Fur and Fashion.

I still have two of my mother’s fur coats that I picked up from her house after she died. I’ve never known quite what to with them. I dislike the mentality that lies behind their production, but simply destroying them seemed disrespectful in more ways than one.

Today I was told of a dress agency in Ashbourne which might take them, so I went and enquired. The woman who runs it says that she does sell fur coats, but she doesn’t put them in the window because she ‘doesn’t want the extremists to know about them.’

‘Extremists.’ 

Being sensitive to the suffering of animals, and not wanting them to be farmed or trapped merely to provide a fashion accessory, makes you an extremist. I decided to take them in. If they sell and I get a commission, I’ll give it to the local animal rescue centre.

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And talking of fashion, I was intrigued by a headline on Yahoo, which asked

Why are we so excited about NYFW?

I didn’t know what NYFW meant, so I clicked to find out.

New York Fashion Week.

Ah, right. The article included pictures, which began with a thin woman wearing a very ordinary black dress. It continued with another thin woman wearing a very ordinary red dress. Next up was a very ordinary woman wearing jeans, tee shirt, and a black jerkin. I didn’t get excited.

The article waxed eloquent about the wonders of fashion design and the revelation that is Victoria Beckham. Is one supposed to laugh, cry, or just switch off?