It might be a sizeable claim to make but I may well be faux furs biggest fan. Looking through my wardrobe it seems like every other item I own is fur trimmed. This only proves an issue when the low temperatures of the new arctic (Nottingham) require multiple layers of outerwear. Suddenly my individually gorgeous items of clothing combine to transform me into the love child of the Michelin Man and Chewbacca.
In an attempt to delay the onset of heating bills, my housemates and I congregated in the living room wearing every item of clothing that we could get our hands on. With the aforementioned fur collection in tow, the controversial animal rights debate ensued. An issue that I, naively, hadn’t considered was the image that faux fur fans are portraying. This matter was bought to the attention of one fur-clad housemate whilst walking across town when she was approached by a man who turned out to be an extremely passionate animal rights protester. Not the ideal unexpected rendezvous in such furry attire.
My attic at home contains many a treasure (if Polly Pockets and baby grows count). The one untouched box of inherited heirlooms is my grandmas collection of furs. Generations apart, her favourite stole does little other than give me a serious case of the creeps. When it comes to animal rights debates, I’ve tended to struggle with working out where I stand. Times have changed dramatically and, although my grandmother was one of the most glamorous women I've ever known I would certainly not feel comfortable draping her favourite fox around my neck like was done a few generations ago. However, I cannot pretend that I don’t go weak at the knees at the site of the faux fur draped mannequins in every shop window.
So should I feel remorseful for the image that I may be promoting? While no amount of money could make me wear the treasured furs passed down through the family, when it comes to faux fur, its going to take more than a guilt-trip from a stranger to make me throw out my ever-growing collection.
