I was walking down my local high street to the shops, one day this week. It was a typical, cold, damp, February afternoon, with no glimmer of hope and I was wearing my floor length, real fur coat. Yes, it’s real - judge me if you like but hear me out; it had belonged to my grandmother and it’s at least fifty years old. I would never buy a new real fur coat.
Anyway, as I was walking down the road, two girls were walking behind me. I overheard one say to the other“that fur coat is sick, totally sick”. Panic sank in and I froze. I’d been caught out, they knew it was real. I wasn’t in the most salubrious of neighbourhoods and I begun to fear for my own safety. These girls would soon be chasing me down the high street, pelting me with eggs, screaming “murderer , murderer”! Shopkeepers and onlookers would throw me dark looks and I’d outlawed from town. As I began to speed up, the conversation behind had not abated. “Look at it” I heard one say, “ it’s real oright, it’s so sick man, totally sick”. I started to look into the eyes of shopkeepers, standing in their door ways – my eyes begging for mercy “it’s a really old coat” I pleaded, “it used to belong to my grandmother and I was feeling so cold today - please no eggs”! As I planned in my head my Lara Croft style getaway (something along the lines of several back flips and parkour over the roof tops), it hit me that these girls were actually paying me a compliment. They weren’t bothered that it was real or fake, my ‘sick’ fur coat was apparently really cool.
This little fur anaecdote got me thinking - whilst faux fur continues to proudlly fluff its feathers in the the ethical limelight, how green are your faux fur cushions and throws really? http://www.stylenv.co.uk/blogs/blogEntry.cfm?b=62
No comments:
Post a Comment