The
fur trade is always a hot topic – with animal activists and fashion addicts
constantly at each other’s throats in the media. Most of us will remember
Sophie-Ellis Bexter holding up a skinned fox for a PETA anti-fur campaign a few
years ago, and we’ve all heard stories about activists throwing red paint over models
in white fur coats.
But
like most people, I’ve never actually taken much notice to these sorts of
things. I always thought it must be exaggerated by do-gooders trying to shock
people into signing petitions. Up until recently, the fur trade was something
that I had considered alongside fox hunting and animal testing – horribly
cruel, yes, but I’m the first to admit that I’d never actively checked a
shampoo bottle to make sure it hadn’t been tested on animals.
Heading
into the depths of Digbeth in the few weeks of my first year, I quickly became
a vintage enthusiast - it’s cheap, it’s different, and it’s usually great
quality if you know what to look for. Shopping was no longer a depressing trawl
around Topshop pining after things I could definitely not afford. But still, as
far as I was concerned, real fur was for the rich and the fabulous – a far cry
from a student like me with barely enough money for a return-ticket to Selly
Oak. The closest I’d ever got to fur was a shaggy pair of moon boots that I had
worn to death in year four.
During
a regular shopping trip, I headed to one of my favourite little shops in the
city centre - Vintage on Ally Street (down the first side road on the left as
you head down Digbeth high street). I picked up a really cool jacket – a denim
splash-dye number that I fell in love with instantly. I tried it on and it
fitted perfectly. Barely even inspecting the collar, I headed to the till and
thrusted a grubby tenner at the lady who owns, and runs, the shop. As I handed
over my money, she casually said: “I should let you know that is real fur on
the collar.” I didn’t think much of it, and proceeded with the transaction. My
reasoning in that moment was that the animal was already dead – and if this
jacket was not worn, it had died in vain. Surely, that was a reasonable
argument to buy it?
For
a fair few months I felt tremendous wearing my jacket. Friends would touch the
fur and ask if it was real, to which I would proudly inform them that it was.
Many recoiled in disgust, but I felt glamorous and fashionable so for some time
that was enough to keep it as a firm wardrobe favourite.
The
tables turned took a dramatic turn recently when I was doing my daily trawl of
my Facebook newsfeed. A friend had shared a video entitled “Olivia Munn exposes
Chinese Fur Trade.” I would advise that anyone who stumbles across this video
should not watch it unless you have a very strong stomach. By the end, I was in
tears and felt physically nauseous after seeing terrified animals being
electrocuted, chocked and even skinned alive. The sheer disgust and anger that
I felt after watching this absolutely revolting and shocking cruelty to such
beautiful, innocent creatures stayed with me for several days. I grabbed my
jacket and when it started malting, I felt like I had blood on my hands.
Since
then, I have researched the fur trade – trawling through websites detailing
some of the appalling realities of the fur trade. But it’s not only the fur
trade that is so disgusting – leather is just as cruel as fur, pulling in £600
million from Great Britain alone annually. Countless campaigns have been set up
by animal-rights activists to abolish huge fur and leather firms, but most of
the time these efforts come to no avail, as the demand for these materials are
still so high. What I found particularly upsetting was that much-loved,
familiar pets such as cats, dogs, rabbits and even guinea-pigs are mercilessly
killed to feed the hungry fur trade – with around 2 million being killed every
year in China alone and being sold on to European traders. I felt sick at the
thought that my fur collar could have come from a puppy.
Typing
“fur trade in Birmingham” into Google, I was surprised to find that there are
so many fur traders in Birmingham who are feeding this terrible industry.
Formally, these businesses are called ‘Furriers’, and most are not based in the
city centre. One in particular that caught my eye was “Madeline Ann” – a small
shop in Solihull that sells fur items.
This shop has been targeted by a local activist group who are
campaigning to stop the shop from selling fur by sending angry letters to the
owners and discouraging locals from entering the shop. I felt a pang of relief
that something was being done, but at the same time a sad realisation that
these efforts would probably come to nothing. Most vintage shops in Birmingham
sell fur coats, and the vintage scene is most certainly thriving. Fur is
fashionable, and unfortunately not enough thrifters are aware of the disgusting
processes behind their ‘bargains.’
However,
I have started doing my bit. I can’t deny that I still love the jacket, but it
mainly lives in the depths of my wardrobe these days. When my grandmother
recently offered me her old fur coat that she wore when she was “a girl... and
a size 10” – the first question that I asked was “Is the fur real?” My fingers
were firmly crossed as I observed the beautiful garment, until she assured me
that it was fake. The coat is my new favourite item of outerwear. When people
ask me if it’s real, I can proudly tell them that I no longer wear real fur,
and that fake is most certainly the way forward.
