A fur coat used to be a symbol of luxury and success - a loud statement that your man thought a lot of you, and earned enough to show it. It was part of the traditional exchange for a girl's virtue, along with the diamond ring, the poodle and the little flat in Maida Vale. These days, however, ladies who wear fur coats are becoming an endangered species.
The British woman's rejection of furs has been so thorough that department stores owned by the House of Fraser have stopped selling them, as they revealed last week. Only their flagship, Harrods, will keep them in stock. "I think Britain stands pretty well alone in rejecting fur," says Andrew Wyles, spokesman for the store.
The fur coats that do walk around smart areas of London tend to be on the backs of foreign ladies. Furs are still an essential part of the fashionable wardrobe in Milan, New York and Paris. Some aged belles dames are still wearing their pre-war models, complete with the smell of mothballs. But if you see a young British woman clad in fur, well I think one may safely assume that she is the teensiest bit common. "It is really tasteless," says Nilgin Yusuf, fashion writer for the magazine Elle. "Stylish young people don't wear it because it is tacky. If they want the feel and warmth of fur, they go for fakes - there is a lot of great fake fur around."
Twenty years ago, a glossy mink meant real style, and an obvious fake was irredeemably vulgar. Now, the position is reversed. The real stuff still appears on international catwalks, though when the British designer Alistair Blair showed a fur coat in a collection, the audience reportedly received it in such hostile silence that three more furs remained unseen backstage. Bruce Oldfield whose clothes are favoured by the Princess of Wales has designed fur coats, but never includes them in his main fashion shows. Altogether, British fashion pundits are giving fur an unequivocal thumbs down.
Last Wednesday, the British Fur Trade Association made a bid to stay in the style spotlight by holding an open day at the Bond Street furrier Birger Christiansen. But conscience clashed with chic when its model, Melanie Sawyer, wrapped in ú3,000 worth of Persian lamb, rather defeated the object by cheerfully telling reporters she was being paid extra for the "social stigma" of modelling fur.
It's not simply a style statement, but women's new-found green awareness that is turning them against fur. Lynx, the anti-fur pressure group, proudly claims responsibility for the mass boycott. The latest Lynx advertising poster, photographed by green-as-grass Linda McCartney, features a hard-faced woman dressed in red fox, labelled Rich Bitch. Beside her is a dead red fox in a trap, labelled Poor Bitch.
"Wearing fur is now completely out of style in Britain," declares Lynne Kentish, a director of Lynx. "We lead the world in compassion. We are now setting up our campaign in Los Angeles, which we consider the style capital of America, and we hope to have exactly the same effect there."
Naturally, Ruth Parkhouse, spokeswoman for the fur trade association, staunchly denies that furs are out of fashion. "We've had two warm winters in this country. Since the weather has been colder, retailers say they are doing well. Modern styles are young and fun, and definitely not vulgar. And we feel we are very green we don't use endangered species. Fur is natural and doesn't pollute the atmosphere, like some synthetic fabrics. It is also a renewable resource."
The British repudiation of fur can be seen as a triumph for animal rights. However, it can also be seen as a symptom of the average Briton's loathing of people who flaunt their wealth a terrible social crime within our class-ridden shores. Fur is a popular target because it tends to be worn by the rich. A sable coat can cost up to ú60,000, a ranch mink changes hands at ú2,000, even humble rabbits can set you back a few hundred.
I am one of the millions of women who wouldn't be seen dead in a fur coat. But I am also unlikely to be seen either dead or alive behind the wheel of a Rolls, for the very good reason that I can't afford one. No, in principle, I do not wish to wear the skin of a creature which once frolicked in a leafy glade. But principle is as far as it goes, because I have no choice - no man has yet "insulted" me with the offer of a mink. It is awfully easy for us to condemn crimes we will never commit. I will take the whole issue of killing animals for skin more personally when someone spits at me for wearing leather shoes.
