The ethical brigade want a fur-free Britain - but the reality is complicated
This government is looking increasingly fur phobic. First off, Carrie Symonds, the mother of young Wilfred Johnson and No. 10’s ‘first fiancée’ is an animal-rights campaigner who has called people who wear fur ‘sick’. Secondly, Zac Goldsmith, a close friend of Symonds, and a Minister of State for the Environment in the House of Lords, nailed his colours to the mast this week by speaking at an event organised by the Humane Society International calling for a ‘Fur Free Britain’.
Then there was the suggestion last year that the Queen was giving up on fur - though she hasn't actually gone fur free. What she has done is give up buying new fur, but the ermine-trimmed cloak she was crowned in remains firmly in the royal wardrobe. That said, she is unlikely to be busting out her 1960s leopard-skin coat for any outdoor investiture ceremonies any time soon.
The anti-fur brigade hopes that a post-Brexit Britain will be able to introduce a ban on fur imports. The Government merely says that it’ll review the position at the end of the transition period on 31 December with no hint of whether anorak wearers will have to swing away from goose down and rabbit-fur trim and towards polyester and nylon.
Then there's the fact that, as of Tuesday, grouse shooting is specially exempt from the rule of six. This sends a slightly more nuanced message about the Government's attitude to animal rights. Whatever else, it will no doubt annoy Symonds. She's protested against the badger cull and against commercial whaling so is highly unlikely to be pro blood sports.
Prince Harry, who gave up hunting and sold £50,000 of Purdey shotguns earlier this year to please the pacifist Duchess Meghan, is probably also in favour of banning the Queen's Guards' bearskins. And would probably tut tut if Granny emerged from seclusion sporting a floorlength mink. But county types with their pheasant preserves and inherited furs obviously still have a voice in the Conservative Party. So who's likely to be bending Johnson's ear most successfully come December?
Fur is a tricky subject and its ethics are deeply confused and confusing. The fur lobby will tell you that it is natural, biodegradable and, these days, thanks to its own Welfur certification scheme for European mink and fox farms, probably cruelty free.
It also, apparently, contributes over £200m to the economy each year. What's more, rabbit, shearling and calfskin are, or could be, a byproduct of the food industry. The animal would, so the argument goes, have died anyway and throwing away a usable skin is a sinful waste of resources.
However, no one's served me a sable stew recently, so I think we can assume claiming any full-on coat is a by-product isn't going to wash. Even so, the fur friendly also point out that making a fake fur from synthetic fibres is polluting in itself and that once its buyer is sick of it, that shocking pink polyester stole will languish on some giant landfill heap for the rest of recorded time.
There are some fake fur brands such as House of Fluff that pride themselves on their eco credentials, using biodegradable fabrics - and they do look, and feel, incredibly soft and real. But if your fake fur looks too good, you risk just as much abuse on the tube as if you're actually braving the hordes in a floor-length Cruella special.
Read more: Anti-countryside and anti-toff: the week shooting became 'class warfare stuff'
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