“As a teenager I fell in love immediately when I got my big aunt fur coat. Very smooth, very beautifully finished … I was immediately sold out. My dress style is weird and you don’t need anything else to stand out with a fur coat.
Proud of Mayila I walk down the street. My parents warned me at the time that enthusiasts might throw paint, but that never stopped me from wearing a fur coat. I have over six now.
In Rotterdam, where I live, I don’t get much judgment. But elsewhere I am sometimes seen off the street. When I was in London, when it turned into an anti-fur demonstration, I quickly ran into a department store.
I understand those enthusiasts, not closing my eyes to the cruelty of animals. In fact, as a meat and fur wearer I think you need to know how steak or such a coat is made.
That’s why I went hunting with the locals in New Zealand. We shot the game for meat and fur. Nothing used. I like it. I like to live in the wilderness and learn to make my own fur coat.
The problem for me is waste: if an animal is killed only for its skin or if people are blindly throwing edible meat into the wheelbarrow. I never buy a new coat with fur, I always go for a vintage one that will give a third or fourth life in the years to come. I wear them until there are holes.
My vegetarian friends sometimes have a hard time loving my fur coat, but they never break their friendship. They know my principles. I will always be an animal lover; I don’t bite myself when I wear fur. “
This piece is in the new VROUW magazine (every Saturday in the Telegraph).
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