Fashion: Fur

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Fur is the shit. There’s something that changes you when you put on a fur. Lights feel brighter, wine tastes better, and if anyone gets in your way they’re like half scared that you’re a prostitute with a switch blade.

I have a rabbit fur coat that I got from Savers in Rochester (MN). It’s second hand fabulous. There are a couple of seam rips and the thing sheds like a dog, but I can’t give it up because some rabbits died and why waste their sacrificed life wearing a fucking Columbia jacket and looking like a bad tipper.

And yeah, every time I think about how a REAL fur coat is made, I feel bad. I love animals. But I also eat meat and live in the waaaaay far north where a fur coat is actually used for it’s warmth. The added coat fierceness is a bonus. But either way, eating meat, wearing fur, having poor asian peasants make our iPhones for 8 cents so we can find the nearest Taco Hut; this world is fucked and we are big assholes. But that’s why faux fur exists: so you can only kind of be a dick human being, instead of a slightly bigger dick of a person. Progress. 

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