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Ermine (chinchilla and fox) furs adorn the imperious. 🐆
Finished up the gray fox scarf and I'm actually very pleased with how it turned out! I thought moving up from working with rabbit to working with fox was going to be a daunting task, but I liked working with these pelts much MUCH more, way less finicky. (I'll take photos of the rabbit and leather scarf I made for myself earlier in the year soon.) Probably poured way more hours into it than needed, but I was learning and nitpicking.
Last photo is a comparison between this scarf and my red fox scarf that I bought at 🚨retail price🚨 (entirely too much) from Henig Furs like 13~ years ago. It doesn't use the full pelts, and instead has a black satin backer. I don't regret the purchase at all, I absolutely love my red fox scarf, but now I feel like I could have made something myself that I'd be very happy with for a fraction of the price. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I really wanted to work with full pelts for this gray fox scarf, and alter, sew, and condition them from scratch on my own. It's also important to me that I know they're sourced from sustainable trapping rather than a fur farm. Definitely want to work with more fur in the future. For now, I just gotta hide this from Mom until Christmas and not be tempted to steal it from her.
Minneapolis, circa 1910. "Hotel Dyckman and Sixth Street." Absolutely fire proof.
TEARING THE SKIN She ran, ran to the kindergarten, Her coat was torn. As she was jumping among the grasses, someone tore Kozhushynka's skin. As she climbed down from the tree - Maybe a predatory fox ran with her. Maybe a wolf, or maybe a dog Gav Tore her gray coat. Although the hole is small, you need to look for a furrier. That furrier is a glorious hedgehog, He sewed a fur coat with a needle. For work, checking in the garden Yabluchok will shake the hedgehog.
furrier #4
Field Trip
When I was growing up, my father owned and operated Joseph Palanker & Sons, a fur salon on Main Street just outside of Buffalo, NY. (Dad and Uncle Bernie comprised the “& Sons” portion of the title.)
My Grandfather came from Russia and specialized in fur hats. As one might imagine, both Russians and Buffalonians are prone to cold ears.
I was always entirely proud of my Dad while also possessing no natural interest in fashion and less inclination to wear fur. My friends were fascinated by his inventory and my Dad encouraged me to try things on.
I would often say, “Dad, I don’t want to be the only kid at camp with a mink stole.” The salon used humane practices and my Dad would make the point that fur is natural, while the manufacture of synthetics pollutes the environment. He would also say that the fur trade is the world’s oldest profession.
I would tell him, “Second oldest. First the prostitutes and then their pimps needed fur coats.” Still, for two reasons it wasn’t for me: 1) The animals and 2) Way too fancy.
During one especially frigid winter, I got into my Mom’s car coatless, slipped on a fur in the back seat, and thought, “OK, yeah. This thing is warm!”
For reasons which remain unclear to me, my fourth-grade class took a field trip to my Dad’s store. It must have been a big deal. The kid in the back is wearing a blazer!
My Dad was a craftsman and he loved the intersection of art and commerce. He explained and demonstrated his process to the whole class.
I was up front, sitting right next to my Mom and my teacher, thinking about the original occupant of that fur while at once being thrilled to share my parents and my Uncle Bernie with my classmates.
You never know what from childhood will be interesting to others. What’s a special memory you carry with you today from way back when?