Mink, Schmink

PETA was protesting on Fifth Avenue yesterday; they chose the Escada boutique to picket in front of, which I found odd -- I'm sure Escada uses fur, but it's not on prominent display; just two blocks away, Fendi was featuring a huge chinchilla coat and multiple minks in their front window. I would have politely pointed this out to them, but you know those PETA people; they're so... intense, that they really can't hear anything anybody else has to say. (Particularly an opposing point of view. Ahem.)

I respect anyone's right to protest whatever they choose, but I do have to question the effectiveness of PETA's tactics. I seriously doubt that any of the high-falutin' women entering the Escada enclave with the intent to purchase a fur coat suddenly had a change of heart because a PETA protester was screaming at her on the sidewalk. ("Don't speak so loudly, I can't hear you" might be the rejoinder those excitable PETA imps need to listen to.) Frankly, I find that kind of approach so annoying and so counter-productive, I would have bought something in fur just to piss them off.

I know people who, while not nearly as militant as PETA, refuse to wear fur, and I respect their decision; but I often wonder if they honestly believe that the leather for their handbags and shoes came from a cow who martyred herself for the cause, or if the fish or chicken they ate for dinner died of peaceful old age.

As it happened, I had just made a fur purchase a few moments before happening upon the PETA protest: a mink scarf, glossy and long-haired, the color of tawny, turning leaves; thin and discreet enough to tuck inside a sport coat or jacket without appearing ridiculous -- as fur often can on someone of the masculine persuasion. It's beautiful, it's elegant, and I make no apologies.