By the time I completed my coyote pelt hat last year, the weather was turning too warm to wear it. It sat in the dark of my closet until today, when a class III polar heckhole descended upon our region.
I realize not everyone shares my sensibilities about fur and killing and/or eating animals, but I wasn’t quite ready for the attention this hat got today. Nor was I prepared for the way it induced people to divulge their views on the subject to me.
First off, I need to say that I’m not comfortable being the center of attention. I don’t like it for multiple reasons, even when it’s for something commendable. I just never seem to know what to do with my hands or what to say. I guess it was my own naivety that had me thinking I could walk into a place of business with the fur of a varmint on my head without hearing feedback.
Around lunch time, I went to the grocery store to pick up a few things. I had four hat-centric interactions, but two I’ll share because they are on complete opposite ends of the spectrum.
One older guy by the bananas (there was not a ripe one to be had) immediately asked if I killed it. I told him that I had found it, then tanned and sewed the pelt into a hat. He said it was awesome and if anyone gave me trouble about fur being murder, they were idiots anyway. I said that car bumpers are murder, but he didn’t have the backstory to really appreciate the comment.
Then, shopping for a non-boring power bar (which doesn’t exist), a female employee who looked to be in her twenties, stocking shelves 20 feet away, out of nowhere said, “Are you just trying to get attention or something?”
Not wanting to assume she was talking to me or about the hat, but knowing she was, I asked, “Me? You mean the hat? It’s awful cold out and it’s super warm.”
“Is it real?”
“Yep. I skinned, tanned and sewed it up myself.”
“Poor coyote.”
“What was poor about it?” — No answer.
“Kind of an interesting thing to wear, don’t you think?”
At this point, I began to doubt that she was interested in anything I had to say, but since I was wearing the hat, I supposed I had become a de facto apologist for anyone who both respects and uses animals responsibly. I had brought this on myself so I played along politely.
“Well I put a lot of time into it, and it’s the perfect day to wear it, so if that makes it an interesting choice, then sure.”
“Can I touch it?”
Um, this was an unexpected turn. I was thinking this lady was just abrupt. She was forward too.
I bowed slightly and allowed her to run her hand through the coyote’s fur twice. She said it was beautiful. I agreed.
She muttered something about how she’d never kill an animal just to wear it, so I took the opportunity to tell her that this one had been killed by a car and would have rotted alongside the road had I not salvaged it. I’m not sure if that had any traction with her, since she walked away about as smoothly as she began our conversation.
Trapping and furs built St. Louis, but that history is lost on many. Just like people used to grow victory gardens during the World Wars, having your own garden is becoming sophisticated again. I’ll admit that eating tomatoes out of your backyard is currently more socially acceptable than sporting a varmint’s hide on your person, but someone’s got to be out there pushing the edges of fashion…and maybe I’m just the guy to do it.
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