With the uber-availability of fast fashion and the endless buffet of aesthetics (from Korean Cozy Beige to Female Horror Game Protagonist), it is almost impossible not to take color and pattern for granted. Fabrics and faux leathers now arrive in countless shades at a velocity that rivals AI image generation. Yet Miranda Priestley’s voice lingers in the cultural ether—”…that sweater is not just blue, it’s not turquoise, it’s not lapis, it’s actually cerulean.” Color, as arbitrary as it may seem in a world of limitless options, has a history, and that history matters. Far from being mere hex codes, color—and the means by which it was acquired, often at great cost—has shaped economics, law, and society.
Color beats from the heart of humanity, so what better place to begin than with the shade of literal blood? Today’s focus: oxblood. The term began as a descriptor for a deep, rich red that mirrored actual ox blood. Historically, ox blood was used to dye fabrics, paints, and leathers. Fresh oxblood was a bright, potent red that oxidized into the darker, brownish-red tone we now associate with the name. Even rural architecture bears its mark—many farms owe their signature red siding to oxblood mixed with linseed oil and rust to protect wood from rot and moisture.
The hue also appears in ceramics, known by its French name sang de boeuf. This copper-oxide glaze features prominently in 18th-century Chinese pottery, created in homage to the sacrificial red glazes of the Ming dynasty. Its depth and luminosity made it one of the most coveted ceramic finishes in history. In fact, the technique carried beyond pottery: in the early 1900s, architect Leslie Green used sang-de-boeuf glazed terracotta tiles to clad many of the first buildings of the London Underground—most famously Maida Vale station, whose oxblood façade remains a visual landmark.
The term oxblood first appeared between 1695 and 1705, and now refers to a dark red with undertones that can skew brown, purple, or blue. Compared to burgundy, oxblood reads warmer, with less purple and more brown; next to maroon, oxblood appears darker and more grounded. Its most recognizable modern expression is in leather, which explains its proximity to cordovan, a horse hide leather from Cordoba often stained in deep oxblood red.
Oxblood in Modern Fashion: Fall Winter 2013/2014
Oxblood had a particularly strong moment during the Fall/Winter 2013 season. The color added depth to more modern snakeskins and sequins while adding sensuality to dapper and religious themes.
The color was featured as a prominent background for multiple Fendi campaigns and is rich enough to add a touch of luxury to the utilitarian puffer jacket.
From skirts to leathers bags, oxblood provided a oxblood provided warmth to desaturated, almost grungy campaigns while standing out with its velveteen shine against an impossibly black background.
The beauty industry followed suit. Oxblood migrated onto faces and fingertips, but made itself most known on lips.
From there, oxblood filtered into the high street as the trend democratized.
These brands produced pieces in oxblood tones—from apparel to accessories—bringing the color into mainstream retail.
The color, and its close variants such as burgundy and deep berry, also saturated much of the 2015-2016 fashion blog-o-sphere, with oxblood splashed across button down skirts over knee highs, cocoon cardigans, skinny jeans, and the knot dress.
I suspect oxblood’s popularity eventually trickled down to Pantone’s 2015 color of the year, Marsala, which reads like oxblood with half of its saturation.
Oxblood in Interior Design
Recently, oxblood has re-emerged in interior design. As millennial minimalism recedes, richer tones have started to return, creating room for colors with more visual substance. Oxblood appears in upholstery, wall finishes, furniture, and architectural details across both residential and commercial interiors, including the Villa Marquis Meliá Collection hotel in Paris, renovated in 2021, which incorporates deep red upholstery and finishes within its public interiors, and the Rouge Room in Las Vegas, redesigned between 2022 and 2023, where deep red textiles and lacquered surfaces are used throughout the space.
Oxblood has moved through agriculture, ceramics, fashion, cosmetics, and interiors in different forms. Its origins may be literal, but modern chemical variations have expanded it into a range of deep reds that work across materials—on lips, on the lacquered surface of a leather shoe, or across the facade of a century-old train station. Oxblood’s cultural impact grows the same way its pigment does—deeper and more defined with time.
xx
Nona