The Fur Coat

my fur coat on the hanger

Is is a widely know fact, among those who frequent Vienna, or live here, or have anything at all to do with the city, that every real Wienerin owns a fur coat. It is a rite of passage, a mark of class and sophistication. A woman goes from being a "Fräulein" (or, if age has already exacted its toll, from being a "Frau") to being a "Dame" once she owns a fur coat.


Now, these coats come in all shapes and sizes. There are full-length mink, beaver, ermine; there are fur-trimmed wool coats, half-length rabbit or raccoon, or simple stoles to be worn at the opera - in the balcony. Or front row center. The choices are endless, even if the bank account isn't. For those of you interested, a floor-length mink costs about €10,000, and was most likely caught and bludgeoned to death in Siberia. The killing of animals for the fur trade is illegal in Austria, but the selling of furs is perfectly legit, provided the animals died and were sewn together in a different country. And the demand is high, obviously.


I have my own fur-trimmed winter coat, and, since I packed it and brought it all the way from Wisconsin, I'm glad this year I've gotten to wear it quite a bit, what with the extremely cold month of February we've been having in Europe. And I honestly don't get the excuse to wear it in the USA I do here; besides, it's such a beautiful coat.

At this point, many of my loyal readers (who?) might be scratching their head right now. Really? you could be thinking. Vanessa? The vegetarian? Owning a fur? That doesn't sound right. Why would she have anything to do with fur? Let me tell you. It's an interesting story, which is why I thought it would make an interesting blog post.

in front of elevator in my building

It all started my freshman year at Lawrence. The drama department was having a costume sale in the Voyager room across from the old Grill in the Union. There wasn't much all that exciting up for grabs, except this coat, which was sitting humbly (yet provocatively) on a hanger. Price? $10. I realized then that it would become mine.


I have no idea why no one else wanted it. Perhaps it was destined for me, perhaps I was the first one to get down to the sale that day. Perhaps all the other hippy-vegan darlings of my alma mater were too principled to lay down ten bucks for something that was once an animal. It doesn't really matter. As soon as I laid down my ten dollar bill, I secured the coat against my person and dashed back to my dorm. I did a little dance in the stairwell before getting to my room and opening the door to my roommate, who was on Facebook when she should have been studying for art history.


To me, it was obviously vintage - at that point, I didn't quite know how vintage - and by that sheer fact made even better.  Being vintage, whatever animal it had been was obviously murdered before my lifetime, and therefore pardonable, in my code of ethics. I've been wearing vintage outfits, and specifically, vintage coats (my great-grandmother's until it fell apart, and then ones from second-hand shops), since high school.

fur cuff - the other side is disintegrating :(

Unfortunately, this year, as I have worn the coat like a winter coat (its intended purpose) and have not been very gentle, the fur on the cuffs first started to shed, and then started to come out in clumps. It's like my coat is going through chemotherapy. Luckily, the collar is as good as new (basically) and the cuffs are detachable, so my project for next winter is to get them off and find a suitable, attractive replacement. 


Noticing how badly the fur is falling apart prompted me to do a Google search on it, to see if I could figure out a few more things about it. I've thought about taking it to a furrier in Vienna to have it appraised, but since it's no longer in the best condition, and the furrier might chide me about not taking good care of it, I balked. That's probably the only way to know for certain what kind of fur it is, however.

The only clue the coat itself has given me is the tag in the lining: THE PETTIBONE & PEABODY CO. it reads. I asked my dad about it, since he grew up in Appleton and he remembers there being such a store when he was a little boy. His mother shopped there. It is there no longer, much like many of the old department stores of yesteryear, being bought up or run out of business by chain stores and the like. Amazon.com, perhaps. Anyway, my Google search came up with some very interesting results, particularly this blog and this souvenir book sold by the company before its demise. It appears that Pettibone and Peabody was one of the oldest retailers in the state of Wisconsin, and opened in 1865. It was Appleton's premier retailer until it H.C. Prange Co. (now Younker's) bought it out in 1946. Thus, for the tag to still read "Pettibone & Peabody Co." it must be at least 65 years old, any may be even older. No wonder the fur is disintegrating, right?

Regardless, I'm pretty tickled about this. Not only is it super vintage, it's my favorite era - I was guessing realistically that it was from the 1960s or later (and donated post mortem by some Lawrence aluma/us) - but in my heart of hearts, I knew the style screamed 1940s - and I was totally right. Maybe even 1930s, but I won't get ahead of myself. 

For those  of you unconvinced, please please  follow my links! And this one while you're at it. And then if you're still not convince, that's not my problem. 'Cause haters gonna hate.

FLOHMARKT

Oh, autumn! The most wonderful thing about autumn is the harvest - as it is getting closer to Thanksgiving, my American upbringing is kicking in and I am getting excited about stuffing and pumpkin pie! Here in Austria, the focus is not exactly on turkey and stuffing yourself until you explode, but quite a few seasonal delicacies have sprung up at the Naschmarkt, including mushrooms (it's mushroom season and a favorite Austrian pasttime is picking your own...) and Kürbis (translated as both "squash" and "pumpkin"). I've been experimenting with both ingredients, and since I decided to make a chantrelle (Eierschawmmerl) goulash for dinner, I thought I would flavor it with another favored Austrian autumn classic, a new wine! I made a little trip to Wein & Co. and then decided, while I was in the neighborhood, to visit the Naschmarkt and Flohmarkt.

Woman with Balloon-dog

I would count the Naschmarkt/Flohmarkt as one of the most wonderful things about living in Vienna. Yes, with all the tourist influx, the prices are a bit inflated and the stalls are a tad crowded on Saturdays, but still! I can't think of a bad thing to say about flea markets! To me, they are wondrous. And it is even more wondrous to me to look around the Flohmarkt in Vienna to see things that would never be sold in the United States!

For example (bad example, but a cultural example), the last time I was there (on my wine/Kürbis/mushroom trip) I saw a plaque for sale which said " Was würde der Führer sagen?" (What would the Führer say?) as well as a working 1900's gramophone, faux Oscar Kokoschkas and Franz Marcs, lace tablecloths and brass buttons (I did buy the buttons - and got a deal, too!). It seems to me, though this may be just some nostalgia kick and a "let's be down on America" thing - I try really hard to curb those, but sometimes they're really tempting, especially when you're abroad! - but seeing how many antiques are actually salvageable, and how interested Austrians are in preserving antiques, culture, and other signals of pre-now, pre-21st century. Yes, there was life before 2000! And the technology boom! And plastics! And people did reuse things at one point in history! America is a throwaway culture. There's no denying it. but there should be some steps taken to appreciate the past, and along with that, appreciate the present and the future - and the natural world!

I think because Austria has such a tangible and accessible history, it's easier to put things in perspective here. People still live in 400-year-old houses and have adapted their lives to fit with the lives lived by their ancestors. Instead of destroying and building anew, they build around. This, I think, is one of the more fascinating aspects of Europe, one Americans just don't get to experience typically, which awes them. 

Instead of thinking "Wow, Europe is so cool and old - " I think Americans should start thinking, "What can we share and preserve that is of cultural significance?" There's got to be something besides the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence.