Picture two willowy ladies of indeterminate age, although judging from their carefully dyed hair, and the fact they are wearing calf length mink coats we could probably safely say they were between the ages of 75 and 85. An age when you can unrepentantly rock any look you like.
I saw them in Palm Springs exiting a restaurant over the holidays.
I have a mink coat. It lives in my closet. I have it professionally cleaned and packed every year and then it goes on to live its long life in storage. It was my mother’s. Look, I don’t wear it because I don’t think it ever gets cold enough in Southern California to wrap myself in pelts, but if I lived in Chicago I sure as hell would. I’m not a vegan, I wear leather shoes, hence…
My mother, who was born in Chicago, told me there was nothing on earth as warm as fur and when I went to college in the frigid North East she gave me the coat she wore in college, it was mouton lamb and blizzard worthy.
Where am I going with this? It seems I feel compelled to tell you why I associate fur coats with a feeling of security, family and warmth – and why I treasure a garment I’ll never wear.
Gary Merrill, Barbara Sherry Davis (a happy looking kid, who later wrote a virulent biography of her mother. Mother-daughter relationships can be complex, yes?) , and Bette Davis – 1950
Bette Davis, accompanied to the premiere of “All About Eve” by her mother – 1950