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born again
Persian lamb coats are selling like hotcakes in local vintage shops, but that's what trend-setters call the death of a fad. Time to move on to the next animal product of choice: feathers. Now I wouldn't call myself a trend-setter per se; I fell into feathers by accident. About two years ago, my mother, who is always raiding aging relatives' closets for my benefit, gave me a black, snug-fitting polyester sweater with marabou feathered wrists and neckline. This was not one of Grandma's; it was from one of her friends - a 50-something suburban accountant. Hmmm. What business did this man, one who deals regularly with the Internal Revenue Service, have owning plumage? Was he a drag queen? Was he hiding a secret, kinky life behind that financial facade? While I wondered about its origins, I tried it out a couple of times, but only at the most flamboyant parties. It was perfect to complete my purring James Bond girl getup on Halloween and to make an ex-lover lament at a Valentine's Day party. Mind you, feathers aren't easy to wear - they require a degree of self-assurance. When I wore it, I could see what people were thinking: "Does she think she's chic or something? Did she kill her parakeet for that sweater? Maybe she just has an extremely hairy chest..." Fur, sequins, beads and other extravagant fashions are revered (just check out the crowd at the Five Spot or Silk City's Rat Pack night and you'll see); why aren't feathers? It hasn't always been like that. Since 1500 b.c., humans have adorned themselves with feathers for decoration and as a symbol of rank. Native Americans wore them as status symbols; ancient civilizations used them for decoration; men and women, from the Middle Ages to the present, have worn them on hats, dresses, handbags, shoes, lingerie - the list goes on. In the late 1800s/early 1900s, the elite usually wore feathers from the rarest of birds: African marabou stork and egret plumage were hot. Those with fewer chickens to barter had to settle for simple turkey and pheasant. But, since the 1920s, aside from filling for blankets, pillows and ski jackets, feather use has been on the decline. · Most of us have our stands on fur (some call it murder), fake fur (it perpetuates the belief that fur is glamorous thus creating demand for real fur, say others) and leather (yeah, but cows and pigs aren't killed just for their hides, some say, while they protest fur shops in leather Doc Martens). But feathers? I mean, feathers are like wool right? The plumage is simply plucked, a haircut of sorts, and the bird grows it back in no time, right? Wrong... sort of. Take the African marabou stork. Now a protected animal, they were nearly killed off just for their feathers. Though the marabou stork is admittedly not as cute as the baby seal, it has a certain somethin' about it. If only the marabou had it as good as the ostrich. The ostrich doesn't have to be murdered for its feathers - it simply gets a haircut two times per year. In the early 1900s, plumage laws were passed to protect species such as the marabou. That's when the feather industry lost its fluff. So if the slaughter of marabou the sale of their feathers is illegal, why are factories still selling - and advertising - them? Bob Davis, manager of New York's Mangrove Feather Company, set me straight. "Hold on a minute. You're mixing apples with pears here and making applesauce of it. Marabou, that's ILLEGAL!" The "marabou" feathers you buy today - in boas, on hats and sweaters, etc. - are actually from turkeys, chickens and pheasants, he told me. Factories, such as Mangrove, buy feathers from "dressing houses," says Davis. Because they get what the slaughterhouses don't use - feathers - they rarely have run-ins with animal rights activists. "We don't kill birds because of their feathers," says Davis. But that doesn't mean animal defenders are pro-boa. Yona Gregory, spokesperson for People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA), says, "You can scrub [the feathers], boil [them], but [they] will always be filthy parts taken from a dead body." How does the fashion world feel about wearing marabou (uh... chicken) feathers these days? Kelly Whalin, owner of Manayunk's Wear It Again Sam vintage clothing shop, says: "They are too flamboyant for me. They look great on hats, but they are not very durable." And she adds, "Nine times out of 10 they end up in the vacuum cleaner." Mira Dieterle, co-owner and designer at Passyunk Avenue's Mira Mira shop, says feathers are not "her style." "They look cute on teenage models," says Dieterle. However, she does predict a comeback.
In my unearthing of ornithic style, I neglected one important source: the 50-something who gave me the sweater. I called him demanding an answer to my original question - "Did you actually wear the sweater?" "No," he laughed. "It was my wife's. She wore them a lot when we were dating, in the early '60s." So they'd be necking in a Ford and the feathers would get stuck all over his shirt. "It shed so much that I would have to pick the feathers off before I took her home." As for me, there are no boa restrictions. |
