Wearing a fur and feeling pleasure in attracting looks, gestures, in provoking sensations.
Wearing a fox, sable, chinchilla, lynx, mink fur in all its variations ( I feel I should also include fake furs, the synthetic ones, obviously if high quality ) also means this: wearing power, attraction, luxury, it means feeling elegant, “improving yourself and accessing a level that is unparalleled to others.
In short, using a well known quote ( and adapting it to the theme ) “Diamonds and fur are a girl’s best friend.”.
You just have to examine the web to understand it: even in the comments of the most fanatic animalists you can read phrases like “I wear synthetic fur, but I realize that it doesn’t feel the same as a real fur.” Or “The quality of a white or silvered fox fur is not under discussion. It makes me feel elegant” or there are even those who admit they have tried on their parents’ or (very true ) their grandparents’ minks.
Personally? Are you wondering what I think on this matter? I’ll tell you a little anecdote that represents a perfect example of what I mean and that gives a snapshot of my passion for furs.
When I saw her I couldn’t believe my eyes.
Nonetheless she, the horrid *****, the most unbearable of my high school classmates, that evening was absolutely marvelous.
I went to get her outside her house.
High heels ( it was her birthday, how could she not wear them? ), semi concealing black tights, mini skirt, the usual curly hair…but a new, splendid black coat with fur collar and cuffs, maybe fox but I’m not sure. A birthday present?
She got in the car and I observed her amazed for a few long seconds. She greeted me with her usual arrogant air that that time had something more, even if I couldn’t understand what.
I restrained myself, I would have wanted to kiss her. Like that, for no reason. She was madly attractive and that’s it.
Then suddenly I got it: “SHE KNOWS she is exciting me”. “SHE KNOWS I desire her”. And she was enjoying herself passing her tapering hands over the thick, black fur, caressing its hair, fixing her hair and a showing me a bit of her cleavage and her neck just behind her ear.
Despite that wonderful evening, the horrid ***** remained so in character, unfortunately. But I did notice one thing, or rather two.
The first: as soon as she took off her coat with fur border, in the restaurant, something magic vanished. A light went out. To my eyes she no longer seemed attractive as she had done a minute ago, in one movement she had totally or nearly totally lost the appeal that up to that moment had destroyed me. She was stripped of her sensuality.
Strange, isn’t it? In a world in which stripping is in reality one of the fundamental requirements for “looking sexy”, I was madly attracted by a completely dressed girl. I desired her collar surrounded by that soft fox, I craved her hands on me with wrists enhanced by fur cuffs. I wanted to feel the softness.
I wanted her, yes, but I wanted her with that coat, not dressed normally. I wanted to nuzzle in that marvelous, soft fur collar and lose myself in its smell, without thinking of anything else.
Was it the fur I desired? I wouldn’t know. That coat was animated with her, it came to life and became irresistible…
The second: ***** knew she was sensual with that fur on. She knew it, her eyes, her words, her gestures spoke foer her. And there is nothing more dangerous than a woman who feels devishly sexy. She was, and I repeat, she knew it.
That coat, better that any complement, flattery, hairstyle or make up, made her feel “feminine” as well as womanly, sure of her own power like never before. Not exactly the power of “Venus in fur” ( it will have come to someone’s mind ) from Leopold von Sachen Masoch’s novel, more connected to submission, rather more similar to the pleasure felt by a gun lover, clutching a golden-bulleted pistol.
Thanks to fur, ***** knew she was irresistible, attractive, strong. Just as, looking to the past, Marilyn also knew, posing for the most famous photographers of the time wearing splendid, white fox stoles and just showing naked shoulders. Or even pop stars like Jennifer Lopez ( apologies for the connection ), Rihanna ( in the video clip “Only Girl” plays with a fur boa, caressing her body and face ) and red carpet Hollywood stars.
Forget petty psychology: fur is sexy. Fur is feminine. It is and that’s it, simply, beyond prejudice and reasoning. And, try to deny it, it will always be, as it has always been.