Who Gets The China?

When a coat is much more than a “coat”

Sometime in the early 80’s, my dad brought home an extravagant gift in a big box for my mom. It was probably around the holidays, or close enough, as the Connecticut weather started to turn cold and gray. I have a vague recollection of the air of mystery and intrigue around the big box as it entered the house. 

He brought it into the living room and we watched over my mother’s shoulder as the large box top was carefully removed. Inside was a large, beautiful, sable-brown mink coat. They are shockingly soft, yet heavy and gleam in the light. Not that I knew much about fur coats, but I understood them to be luxurious, extravagant and warm. This wasn’t just any old gift. The 80s saw the rise of “Yuppie culture”. For men, the Ralph Lauren polo player or the Izod alligator symbolized status and prestige. For women, furs were right up there. It was a symbol that you’d worked hard and achieved a certain level of financial status.

The inside was monogrammed with my mom’s initials and the Lord & Taylor label was hidden on the inside pocket. It was floor length with the requisite big, puffy shoulders we rocked in the ‘80s. I loved to run my hands across the fur, especially on a cold night in the car headed somewhere fancy. A mink coat wasn’t for trips to FoodMart or Caldor. If the fur came out, we were headed somewhere special.

Before mink coats were controversial

Back then, fur coats weren’t controversial or contentious. Anti-fur protests hadn’t started and no one looked askance. At least not in Connecticut. You didn’t have to fear for your safety or that of the coat when you headed out into the snow in a fur.

In fact, one year, we were out for a holiday celebration in New York CIty and we were running late, as always. My dad found a “lucky” parking place and we headed into the theater. When we came out, our car was gone and a blizzard had begun. We had to head to the New York City impound lot to retrieve our station wagon. My mom must have been warm and toasty in her fur but it was just a little out of place in the trailer of the impound lot while my dad paid the price for his great parking spot.

Here is the thing about a fur coat like this: it is a LOT of material. It takes between 60 to 80 minks to make a coat like this. If I didn’t already feel a bit guilty, I really do now. The coat is big, bulky, and very heavy. They require heavy duty hangers and you can’t just throw them on for any old outing. Honestly, they are one-time status symbols to be brought out for certain occasions and when the weather is tundra-cold. 

Who needs a fur in California?

When my parents migrated from the cold East Coast to the warm West Coast, what would one do with the fur? You are definitely not going to need it in Southern California. But don’t you worry, it was not left behind. It went to California and eventually it made its way to my house in Colorado. I have really no idea how or why it got here. It’s not something my sister or I asked for. Sure, it’s colder here, but rarely that cold. And these days, fur is more likely to be an environmental lightning rod so you have to be mindful of where you wear it.  

There were a handful of  zero-degree days over the last 24 years when I wore it to walk to the bus stop – feeling a little ridiculous but warm. I wore it to the occasional holiday party or my friend’s “red carpet” Oscar party when it was a cold night. Mostly, it hangs in an oversize garment bag in a closet, taking up physical and mental space, waiting for opportunities to see the light.

What is a fur coat even worth anymore?

I went down an online consignment rabbit hole researching what to do with this coat. The coat is maybe worth $500 online. Ouch! It hardly feels worth the effort to ship it anywhere which will probably cost at least $100. I somehow had the idea these coats cost thousands making $500 feel insulting. When I asked my dad, he estimated more like $3,000 and my mom dug up the receipt to prove it. (Of course!) So, maybe $500 isn’t too shabby after 40 years!

Friends suggested that I  have it re-styled into car blankets or vests for me and my sister, but I haven’t gotten around to that. 

As with so many sentimental, hard-to-give-away objects, they symbolize something important. Maybe that we’ve made it financially or we’re an artist or we created something worth showcasing. We hold on to them because giving them away or selling them feels wrong. Or because they’re worth something to our parents but you can’t find a buyer or a willing recipient. They take up mental, emotional, and closet space because of a sense of duty or guilt you feel to hold onto it, too.

When your dog comes to the emotional rescue

So last winter, on a freezing but bright sunny day after a snowfall, I thought what the heck? So I took my dog, Rookie, for a walk in the park and wore the damn fur coat. As we strolled along through the snow, warm and cozy, the park ranger truck came towards us. It drove on the walking path, eventually stopping right next to me. As a consummate rule follower, my heart was beating extra fast. Had I done something wrong? Was I getting a ticket? My dog was on a leash, so it wasn’t that. Oh my god, I told myself, this animal protection specialist was going to chastise me for wearing a fur coat! Of course! I wanted to turn away in shame but it was too late for that.

It was a female park ranger, about my age. She called out “That is a stunning fur coat! It’s absolutely beautiful and I had to come tell you. I’m glad you’re wearing it. My mom left me hers and I never know what to do with it. You’ve inspired me to take mine out and wear it!” We chatted for a while and my heart was oddly full.

Making new memories and connections

I was dumbfounded. I hadn’t expected that at all. But for a short moment, I made a special connection with a stranger and it made wearing it all the more worthwhile.