A Furreal Deal
Fair warning to anyone reading this Sunday short story: If you are completely against fur or are an avid PETA supporter, this may not be the read for you. I fully support other people’s beliefs, and I think everyone has a right to their opinion, but you just may want to skip ahead to next week’s tale if faux is more up your alley. To each his own!
Now, it may come as a surprise to many, but at the top of my husband’s list of favorite things are fur coats. Yes, those who know him may view this contradicting for my avid outdoorsman, may-or may-not- have had a shower recently, commercial construction, blue- collar loving husband. You see, Taylor, was a “happy surprise” for his family during the early eighties. This is a polite way of saying that my mother-in-law accidentally got pregnant after she had a nine and ten year old at home. Poor thing was in the mindset that she was done having children, and I honestly pray this occurrence and “happy surprise” is not something that runs in the family. She likes to say Taylor was raised by wolves and was toted along for the ride wherever they went, since they were obviously over the infant and baby stage of parenting.
It is a fun fact that fur peaked in fashion during the eighties-long before Peta (probably rightfully so) stepped in. And it was during this height of extravagance in winter wardrobes, that any given winter weekend night in Nashville, Tennessee, little toddler Taylor could be found snuggled up on top of multiple full length minks strewn on a perfectly made guest bed during an elegant dinner party. This is where I believe my husband’s love of fur started. When we were dating, I drug him into Saks Fifth Avenue in New Orleans to look at the beautiful dresses, only to get separated and later find him wrapped up in the chinchilla coats in the fur department. The poor saleswoman didn’t know whether to ask if she could help him or call the police when she noticed the bearded, disheveled young man petting all the coats like they were new born puppies.
Fast forward to a Sunday afternoon in 2020, right as the pandemic was starting to take shape. Things weren’t fully shut down yet (just New York), and no one knew which direction the world was headed. I had a strong willed, three-year-old daughter and a busy seven-year-old son that were exhausting every ounce of energy I had by the minute. Taylor offered to let me have the house to myself while he took the kids to his mother’s as he could see that I was about to lose my mind at any given second. Smelling the danger getting closer and closer like a grumbling volcano about to erupt, he packed the two of them and our Labrador retriever into his messy truck as I settled into the couch and pulled up a recently recorded episode of The Real Housewives of wherever on the television. Finally- I had a few hours of peace and quiet. To my dismay, my phone rang about fifteen minutes after their departure- just as I was drifting off into a restful sleep to the filler-filled women’s voices on the TV screen.
“Hello?” I annoyingly said.
Taylor’s excited voice came through the line, “Get off the couch, and go to the yard sale around the corner immediately.”
“UGH…Why the hell would I do that? I was just about to fall asleep.”
“Trust me. You have to go to this house. They have a huge tent of fur coats set up, and you have to go try one on. I just did.”
I wiped my eyes and sat up straight on the couch. “You just went and tried on fur coats at a yard sale? Have you lost your mind? Did anyone see you?”
Taylor became more serious by the second, “I am telling you. I saw the light hit that fur from the street and turned my truck around as fast as I could. These aren’t yard sale furs…these are the legit, real-deal minks. Some man is having a trunk show there or something.”
My mind tried to understand what was happening. I tried to picture Taylor’s loud diesel truck with two crazy kids and a hassling lab hanging out the window, pulling into this yard sale/ pop-up-shop then jumping out and trying on floor length furs in the driveway. I secretly hoped no one we knew drove by when my husband was standing out on the edge of Granny White Pike looking like a bearded Joan Collins from Dynasty.
As I gathered my thoughts, Taylor spoke firmly to me again, “Get off the couch, and go buy yourself a fur coat.”
That’s when it clicked. My female brain immediately reacted to that statement. I knew right then and there I may never hear those words uttered to me in my life again, and that no matter how tired I was from young children exhaustion, that I better high-tail it to the yard sale. “Okay. I’m going.”
I threw my hair into a messy ponytail, wiped my smudged mascara from underneath my eyes, and jumped into my car. As I rounded the corner, I caught a glimmer of the sheen on the sun-soaked furs hanging in the driveway. Taylor was right. He had unexpectedly come across an estate sale of a couple who had just passed, and a friend of theirs who just happened to be a well-known clothier had set up shop right in the driveway. There was even a man hired to direct traffic because so many Nashvillians were popping in to try on the elegant coats.
As I was directed to my parking spot, I scoped out a couple I wanted to try immediately- one long, one short. An older, extremely well-dressed gentleman greeted me as I walked up to the racks, and I introduced myself, “Hello, my husband was just here. He said he was trying on these furs?” The question sounded ridiculous as I heard the words come out of my mouth.
The gentleman’s eyes lit up. “Oh yes! Taylor was his name? He particularly liked this one,” he said as he showed me a mid-length, dark gray mink.
I reached out to touch the sleeve and felt the soft, real fur, “That is gorgeous.”
“Isn’t it? He sure does have an eye for them. You can tell he knows what he’s doing.”
I thought about toddler Taylor asleep on all the fancy fur coats during the eighties dinner parties and laughed as I replied, “Isn’t it so surprising?”
I formed a fast friendship with the lovely man, and quickly worked out a deal. I found out that the furs had just come from a place in New York that couldn’t sell them due to the recent lock down. The local furrier was simply doing them a favor by taking them off their hands. (At least that is the story he sold me… and the story I fully believed).
I eventually headed back home, and being the cold-natured girl I am, I finally took my nap, wrapped up in a new, mid- length, dark gray mink that fit me perfectly … and that was dirt cheap. I awoke a couple of hours later to my children petting my arms, quickly forming a love for the feel of fur-just like their father had at a young age.
As Taylor walked in, he looked at me with a big smile on his face and said, “Is that the one you got?”
I rubbed my eyes, then broke the news to him, “it’s one of the ones I got.”
So, in conclusion, when you see a yard sale in the middle of a drive way on a sleepy, southern Sunday afternoon, don’t forget to check it out. You never know- you just might find yourself a furreal deal.
Young Taylor during the eighties wrapped up in someone’s luxurious fur.
These adorable slippers from MeMoi make the perfect gift. They are actually faux, making them quite affordable. One of my dearest friends gave me these, and I absolutely love them because they are so comfortable. Perhaps someone in your life needs them for Mother’s Day?
These fingerless rabbit gloves from Bergdorf Goodman are incredible. I was skeptical when I received these as a gift, wondering why my fingers wouldn’t need to be covered if it were cold outside. Let me tell you, I wear them any chance I can get when it’s cold. They’re perfect for driving or when you need to use your phone. They come in an array of colors as well. Nashvillians- check out The Perfect Pair when the weather turns colder. They always have an assortment of colors (and at a lower price than Bergdorfs!)
Need a more inexpensive option? These faux fur gloves are available at Nordstrom and are on sale for a great price. They may not be as soft as the real deal, but they still do the trick.
Need a refreshing cocktail option this spring? Try the Undercover Mink. It’s sure to be a crowd pleaser with its combination of lemon, honey, and Chambord. Enjoy!