This weekend, I’m off to gay Paris with my lovely hubby on the Eurostar. Not wanting to be smug but I think it’s possibly the best Chrimbo pressie I’ve bought, seeing as it’s a giver in January and I get to enjoy it too. I have no idea what the weather is gonna be like and we all know Paris is notoriously wet when you want a romantic weekend. Judging by the relentless rain in Blighty I don’t have high hopes. BUT… I’d really like to wear my late Nanna Sadie’s mink fur coat.
My Nanna Sadie was so glamorous and although I wasn’t old enough to appreciate this whilst she was alive I was thrilled when my Mum presented me with this last year, but I’m yet to wear it.
I do need to get it reshaped as the box style of the 50’s doesn’t do me any favours, so that’s on the to do list.. yet I know I’m scared to wear it. I like you, shared the post about High Street stores plucking lovely little Angora bunnies. To be honest, I wouldn’t dream of buying fur now. I also know how popular faux is.. But given that this is a piece of history, hung with love in my Mother’s wardrobe for years, accompanied by a vanilla scented coat hanger to lift to strong scent a fur coat carries, surely I’m OK to wear it?
I tweeted a fashionista friend earlier today who I know wears furs to ask her opinion I’m so unsure. Her advice was if anyone challenged me pretend I was Italian or Russian! Now I find myself writing a blog…
My gut says wear it. What’s the worst that can happen? Surely it’s stuff of fiction that I’d offend someone so, that they threw something awful on me once I’d sauntered up the steps of the Sacre Couer on the arm of my beau to pose for a picture…
My imagination is too vivid. I’ll just have to see how I feel on Friday!