The furs be flying

Fur is frowned upon by most (not me). I remember watching my grandma get ready to go out, the finishing touch being a brownish black fur short jacket. It's a wonder she was never paint bombed by the roving packs of protesting environmentalists that populate this city.

Even on my walks around in the city in my one of my grandma's old faux fur coats (how very real it looks! the real one is locked away somewhere beyond my paws), I get frowns from people in their wool and waterproof rain jackets.

I love animals, really I do. I only recycle my grandma's fur and the ones I have bought myself are vintage.
It's not like I harvested hundreds of puppies for them. I promise my cat is in no danger of becoming a pair of earmuffs. But what greater honour after his death would be to become a beloved item of apparel in my wardrobe? I'm kidding. Kind of.

 I adore being wrapped in furry, soft, warm goodness. Maybe I love animals so much, I want to LOOK like one? Scoff at me they will but NO ONE can ever resist petting me.





Ginta Lapina

Frida Gustavsson
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Fur AND red lipstick

fashiontoast blogger

Abby Lee Kershaw




Diane Krueger