Dušan Paunovic is a designer of very particular habits. He has no time for color, has never been tempted by a skirt, and you won’t find a single button on his jackets or coats, even if you come armed with a magnifying glass. “Buttons? No. They destroy every design,” he said while showing his latest collection. The mere mention of “bodycon” makes him cringe; “sexy” and “trendy” fare no better. Fiercely independent and entirely self-funded, he answers to no one, except, perhaps, his uncompromising taste. Fortunately, it’s a standard he can afford to uphold, sourcing only the finest fabrics from the very best producers. The cashmere he favors comes mostly from Scotland, “more compact and tighter than Italian cashmere, which is fluffier and lighter,” he said. “But the Italians are master colorists. In Scotland they haven’t updated the color palette in centuries.” His mentor, Zoran, famously even more cutting in his judgments, would surely be proud.
Paunovic’s favorite color is gray. “I like it because it’s sad,” he said, with the kind of conviction most people reserve for brighter emotions. “It reminds me of the communist uniforms of the Serbian years of my youth.” This season, he flirted—cautiously—with variety. The palette expanded just enough to include nearly invisible shades of moss green and brown, like the tundra in winter: technically different, spiritually still gray. They were beautiful, even if his collections seem tailor-made for the world’s most elegant colorblind clients.
Don’t bother trying to pin him down by asking for a definition of his style. “It’s not minimal—I hate that word. Purist? No. Essential? Doesn’t mean anything.” So the Dušan style remains stubbornly nameless and elusive. It’s practical, but not basic. It’s unfussy, yet extremely sophisticated. It’s luxurious, but very discreet. He has kept doing the same pieces for years, just changing fabrics, adjusting the hue (slightly), adding more texture, or introducing some details—a cashmere trench slit on the sides; a duster lined in rustling taffeta; a loose parka crafted in fine Tasmanian wool; a roomy ribbed jumper with a shawl collar. A sarong skirt is the only skirt he can tolerate, practically an acre of expensive rectangular fabric to be wrapped around the hips. Cashmere denim is made in the most inconspicuous shade of blue. The same daywear pieces can reappear in silk, velvet, or liquid satin: “To go to La Scala, you just have to add a diamond brooch and that’s it,” he said. You never throw away a Dušan; you inherit it from your past self. It lives an eternally chic life in your wardrobe.
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