So here's the situation: I'm a really bad vegetarian. Actually, that's a lie. I just masquerade as one - I'm a pescetarian (or 'hipstertarian' as Cal spells it). The thing is, I discovered smoked salmon so late in my career as an omnivore and there's still so much I want to explore: on blinis, at 1am from
that legendary bagel shop on Brick Lane that never closes, smeared with avocado on potato farls. I'm not ready to give it up, yet.
Let me make it even worse: I love leather. I may squirm about the very notion of a cheeseburger but a pair of soft, leather boots will give me the good kind of shivers. Hypocrisy thy name is Laure.
A few weeks back, I went to coffee with my good ol' vegan friend, M. She leaned over and stroked my grandmother's sheepskin coat with a vague look of disgust.
"That's a pretty weird thing for a vegetarian to wear," M pronounced.
I had to agree she was right.
The majority of my leather is vintage, often stolen from my parents' wardrobes. The rest of it, however, isn't. In my experience, a good leather bag tends to last longer than a pleather one and a pair of shiney brogues fight off the rain so well. I must admit these do sound like the pro-meat arguments I encountered when I first renounced my bacon-eating ways - 'where will you get your protein/iron/vitamin B12/vital life force from?' There are ways around these percieved problems, you just need a bit of a life-style shift, is all.
The list of sins continue. I wear wool. I stole one of my Dad's cashmere jumpers. It's a sticking point that I'm still figuring out.
But where I do draw the line, carefully with a ruler, is fur.
Nope. No way, son. It's just not going to happen.
A few years ago, my sister and I inherited a fur coat from my grandmother's friend. At eighty-years-old, it's more antique than vintage. Apart from it being a few sizes too big and its undeniable musty smell, it's just too
furry, too real, for me to love it. Even as I convinced Cal to put on the infamous fur, or the pimp coat as he calls it, my hands were going clammy.
The notorious cruelty of the fur trade is well documented. (Click
here for PETA's assessment of it.)
Yet somewhere between foxes being skinned alive (and the fact that it sheds), Fur seeps its way back into fashion.
And it's something I just can't wear. I prefer my Cruella de Vil homage faux. And none of that 'good' faux malarky, thank you.Give me super-soft hyper-reality or leopard print or colours that resemble muppet skin. Give me something just as warm, with less guilt.
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{Cal: Coat, Vintage C.1940s. Shirt, Vintage C.1990s.
Jeans, River Island. Socks, Next. Shoes, Vintage C.1990s.
Laure: Coat, New Look. Jumper, Topshop. Skirt, Topshop.
Shoes, H&M.}
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Embrace the inner animal: District 78's
Circle of Life Remix.