Faux Fur Pioneers –– An Anti-Fur Campaign From Way Back In 1974

When will the fashion industry listen? This photo features Doris Day, Mary Tyler Moore, Angie Dickinson, Amanda Blake and Jayne Meadows wearing faux fur coats, looking up at a camera with hopeful smiles on their faces. The image was captured for an anti-fur campaign from 1974 for The Fund For Animals, an animal rights group that remains active today.

On its own, the image is misleading. And for anyone aware of the lifelong advocacy of two of the women –– Mary Tyler Moore and Doris Day –– on behalf of animal welfare and animal rights, it's surprising, and prime for speculation. The photo (separated from its original text) has managed to find circulation around the internet, posted by curious passersby on blogs and image-sharing sites like Pinterest. As is typical, the quick, haphazard sharing of content has skewed the actual meaning of what is being shared. Which is a terrible fate for a photo like this one, which holds such a greater ––and entirely opposed –– meaning. The truth can only be known with discernment.

Without the context from the campaign text associated with the image, which appeared in magazines and publications in 1974, it has begun to hold a distressingly erroneous meaning. Many who've shared it thought of it as a fun bit of vintage fashion, simply believing this is a photo of five once-and-still famous ladies wearing real animal fur.                   
Knowing a great deal about both Mary Tyler Moore and Doris Day and their respective lifetimes of advocacy for animals, my intention has been to share the reality of what the photo and campaign actually meant to say. These five women are decidedly NOT wearing real fur because they are actually advocating for an end to the wearing of real fur.

The heart-wrenching truth is that this level of hope, compassion, and possibility for real progress –– the ideal being to get humans to stop being so entitled, to see the suffering they've caused and to end it, finally –– has yet to be realized. Many decades later.

Doris Day, Mary Tyler Moore, and Angie Dickinson at an event for The Fund For Animals

This was a wonderful anti-real-fur/pro-faux-fur campaign. Again, it's from 1974. Why on earth can't the fashion industry stop using real fur once and for all –– finally, after all this time?

Here is the heading: "Five women who could easily afford any fur coat in the world tell why they're proudly wearing fakes." And then: "Fur coats shouldn't be made of fur."

Ideally, this campaign from 1974 should have worked. It would have easily worked for those who actually care about the welfare of animals and all that humans share the planet with –– it should have also worked for those who are simply affected superficially by the fact that these beautiful, rich actresses have stopped wearing real fur (for those to whom making some connection with wealth and fame are important and meaningful factors in their decision-making.)

It should have worked for anyone with a conscience, because the alternative is simply cruel. That this campaign did not work is definitive of how entitled humans have been, continuously, when it comes to decisions that affect others terribly. Other species have no choice but to share this earthly space with humans, and humans continue to be the cruelest and most dangerous animals on the planet. It is truly heart breaking.

People should evolve over time, if humans are as evolved as they tend to believe themselves to be, in that we have minds that absorb and differentiate information and make decisions based on previous experiences –– those of our own, and those of others. Why is this campaign/photograph such a sad indication of how little people really do evolve over time? It is terribly distressing for many reasons.

The fashion industry is at its core a creative industry, one that's ever-evolving while recycling from the past. At its core, it is also a business, and that is what drives many of its participants to do what they do.  But the decision to sell clothing people are willing to buy, without causing horrifying harm to other species, should be an easy one to make.

Why do so many high fashion labels continue the antiquated practice of using real animal fur when alternative synthetic materials that are just as beautiful and warm exist? Popular high-end designer labels like Burberry, Fendi, Louis Vuitton and Gucci still utilize real fur. Despite her own commendably strong stance against using fur and leather in her designs, Stella McCartney's parent company unfortunately is Gucci.

On the other hand, the Arcadia Group, which includes Topshop & Selfridges, has pledged not to sell fur. The Arcadia Group states in its Fashion Footprint FAQ's: "We are committed to not selling any items made of real fur. All our suppliers are required to sign up to our animal welfare declaration as part of their factory set up. In addition, our internet-based test report system automatically reminds suppliers of our animal welfare policy when they are asked to supply goods made from animal sources."

The long list of designers who continue to use real fur is disheartening, and their reluctance to stop the cruelty is both tragic and abhorrent.

Why would anyone choose cruelty and suffering for any reason –– but especially for no reason? It's disheartening to say the very least to see that this campaign from several decades ago did little to change something that's so simple to change. Stop using real fur, fashion industry, please and finally.

Speciesism is in no way more tolerable than racism. If one does not discriminate between species and is willing to look at the suffering of animals all over the world at the hands of humans, it would be made clear that theirs (all animals, apart from humans) is by far worse than any plight that has affected living beings in the history of the world.

Whether or not one chooses to see animals suffering terribly for no reason, these useless practices continue to exist. Whether the end result of that suffering is all that certain humans are willing to experience, the means still exists. And anyone who is willing to make fashion out of real fur, buy fashion made of real fur –– and wear fashion made of real fur –– is also entirely responsible for that very same amount of fur being ripped away from the body of an innocent, helpless & suffering animal who looks far more beautiful wearing it than any human ever could.

These days, some of the fashion industry's greatest ambassadors still plead for the most sensible move each and every label could make, and that's to stop using real fur. Twiggy Lawson, arguably the most famous fashion model of all time, who is also an actress, singer, and entrepreneur, attempts each year to get designers at London Fashion week to listen to this simple message against cruelty.

How many well-intentioned and heartfelt campaigns, and how many fashion plates of note or otherwise, must plead for this to change? And for how long? How many lifetimes of good service by animal welfare advocates will it take for the fashion industry to stop the cruelty?

More about The Fund For Animals' 1974 anti-fur campaign: http://www.fundforanimals.org/about/history.html.
More about Jayne Meadows: http://www.stevedalepetworld.com/print-archive/vintage-stories/animal-stories/359-jayne-meadows.
More about Amanda Blake: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amanda_Blake

(Also published for Vintage Fashion at Examiner.com.)

The New Year, The Boy Friend & The New Francoise

By the time New Year's Eve 2012 came around, I was finally able to complete my edited version of Ken Russell's 'The Boy Friend'. It has been an ongoing quest for me to share this genius vision, something I've elaborated on before. There's been a great response to the video already –– and it was a worthwhile project for me, either way. 

The new year also brought with it a few minor aesthetic changes to Retro Active Critiques. Last week felt like the right time to refresh the look of the site for the first time, which meant another image of Francoise Hardy presiding over things in time for her upcoming birthday.

Happy 2013!

Retrospective: How Technology Tore The Roof Off My Cozy 1960's Fort

I just realized this will be my 60th post since starting this blog! Which only means I should be posting more often. But because the 1960's hold such a major significance to me, I'll celebrate this little milestone by bringing that very fascination and immersion of mine into the spotlight. And what better way than by merging together a small history of this passion with how the internet affected or diverted it?

The rise of the internet is responsible for many great

changes. It's difficult to imagine living without limitless possibilities today –– online, that is, and especially in terms of information. If you had been passionate about something pre-internet, when information was far less accessible, however, you might have had to come to terms with the fact that the cozy existence you'd spent a fair amount of time building on your own –– with considerable effort,  or sacrifice –– is now shared by any and all in a mere instant. This can of course be said for many things, even skills and trades that have become computerized to the extent that anyone might do with the click of a button what others had to be trained to do, prior. Namely in music, filmmaking, photography, etc.

I have always led a sort of double life: one right here in our current time and another fantasizing and being lost in all that is the 1960's. My childhood & youth took place in the 80's/90's but my heart and devotion belonged to the 60's as soon as I had my first inkling that a bygone time was so magnificent. My dedication to knowing everything about the era led to a borderline unhealthy pursuit. In another sense, it was as if I was working towards earning a PhD in a course of study I had created for myself. For what purpose? I wondered then, and I still don't know.

I could have been an 'expert' on the subject if it weren't for the abundance of information at everyone's fingertips now via the internet. I hoped the time I spent in that endeavor would someday reveal itself to be worthwhile, back when the 'work' really started... I fancied I could be a 60's-era style expert for any number of magazines. Or that I could be a filmmaker with 60's flair (I've already written a screenplay based on a late 60's spy thriller which came adequately close to being picked up by the largest creative agency in the business many years ago... I knew the aesthetics and was able to apply them to every page effortlessly.)

But alas, any such aspirations were foiled by the internet. Today it's so easy to pull inspiration online and make connections with the past. And anyone who might have dedicated themselves to developing specific knowledge in any given area can be rendered obsolete –– in a sort of 'man replaced by machine' sense –– at least in a culture that works on smaller and smaller time constraints. Knowledge is all about speed. It's another form of consumption and dispensing (not necessarily pertaining to any depth of knowledge.) My own immersion in all that was the 1960's, an appreciation that directed a good portion of my formidable years, can be applied to many other people and any experiences that have been devalued since the development of the internet. Not that this is all a bad thing. It is simply a fact to be observed.

Looking back, I had a feeling as a child that I was reincarnated but had lived in the 60's. This might account for something, but how would anyone really know? I had many odd moments growing up that would point to that as a real possibility –– especially since I didn't even knew what reincarnation meant. Maybe it's not so much that I was drawn to the 60's as much as the era was drawn to me. My first significant relationship was sparked by a mutual and religious love of The Beatles. We met while on a double date (both were with someone else at the time) but when the subject turned to The Beatles, we were goners. I'll never forget the looks on our dates' faces as they inched closer to each other and stared at us in disbelief. One of them actually said, "They found each other." I had found a partner who wouldn't mind joining in a 60's quest.

Biographies helped. By the time I was 19, I had read the biographies of every famous woman who fascinated me who was vital to the era in some way (particularly because of their beauty, style or talent.) Mia Farrow, Catherine Deneuve, Brigitte Bardot, Joan Baez, Jane Fonda, Jean Shrimpton and Ali MacGraw are a few that come to mind. Of course, to Audrey Hepburn I dedicated a whole other part of my existence altogether. I've read bios of the lives of many swinging chicks and fascinating men –– Twiggy Lawson (a.k.a. Leslie Hornby), Grace Kelly, Natalie Wood, Linda Eastman McCartney, Patti Boyd Harrison, Peggy Lipton, Peter Sellers, Roger Vadim, Warren Beatty, James Taylor, Carly Simon, Joni Mitchell (oh, I do love the 70's, too!!) And plenty more. I loved spending time in those other lives for the length of a book. It was a great way to travel in time and visit whatever era they roamed.

And I'd spend hours and hours in libraries scouring old fashion magazines. What a thrill to find the right section and start pulling down those plastic covered issues from long ago. I'd marvel at the funny, male-chauvinistic ads and just melt with love while staring at the images of those women, their hair, their clothes, those designs... It was a private, treasured escape into that other world. Wherever I happened to be, I needed to know where the nearest library was. In fact, it may be interesting to map all the libraries that I'd hit in the various cities I lived and visited. This was the most fun I could possibly have, for years, apart from watching classic movies or listening to music that could allow me to reminisce about what had never even been. At least not for me, in my current lifetime.

I was what one would call a lone wolf. The time I dedicated to individuals found through films and books could have been spent instead on cultivating actual friendships. I realize that. Fortunately, I had a like-minded boyfriend for a good part of my early 20's and didn't have to be completely alone in my odd and potentially lonely fantasy.

Back when I was in college, things were just starting to develop in the online world but the internet was still only used as a means of communication. Email was becoming less of a novelty, but all of those wonderful searches that are possible now hadn't infiltrated our lives yet. Facebook, Google and YouTube were still many years away. Despite being a member of a very social organization, a sorority, I would steal away plenty of time for myself and walk through campus alone –– whether I'd go and watch classic or foreign films in the film department, or look up as many old fashion magazines I could make time for at the library. If anyone wondered what I was up to back then, walking alone, here and there –– now you know.

I managed to maintain friendships (being too balanced a person to be anti-social entirely) but I had my own world to resort to if things weren't keeping my interest in this one. After all, I was becoming incredibly versed on all things 60's, whereas the 90's and 2000's I experienced peripherally. Yes, I was 'one of those' –– I didn't own a TV for nearly all of the 2000's and didn't want to. I was satisfied enough with the cultural world I'd created and had plenty of entertainment derived from our collective archives. This involvement with a bygone era was my only source of entertainment. After college, I predominantly lived in NY, despite a short stint in London and some time spent in LA. I found and bought books and old magazines from the 60's. I'd visit bookstores for photography books –– my favorite being David Bailey, but my best find altogether was a rare first edition copy of one of Linda McCartney's books. I'd even cut out photos I liked and make collages out of them. One collage I attached to cardboard and I would take it with me to any location I moved. These (sad to say, really) were my 'friends' and gave me a sense of comfort. This collage of "friends" traveled with me to several cities.

This was true for films, as well. I would rent rare films (on videocassette and later DVD), purchase ones I wanted for my own collection –– and sometimes I'd keep one (after politely paying for it) if I couldn't bring myself to return it to the video store (yes, video!) I also discovered TV shows like 'The Avengers' (with which I developed mad respect for Emma Peel and her kung fu fighting), The Mod Squad, Bewitched, Gidget, etc. I often wondered if all of this would lead to anything or if I was wasting my precious youth. I cannot describe adequately how little I socialized and how very comfortable I was with that fact. At some point I came across the film 'Privilege' and the look I wanted to have for my wedding was thus realized –– several years before I would be married. And when Francoise Hardy made her way into my life, I worked for years to achieve her hairstyle, which I wear today. It took a lot of effort to grow it the right way despite the many bad haircuts I endured at first. It takes a great deal of focus to have one image in mind despite all others that may come to view. And despite incompetent stylists. But again, that was part of my dedication to the 60's I had idealized.

Near the start of the Francoise quest.

My hair now.

All of this holds a very different meaning in today's post-internet culture. A person can be anti-social and still maintain a decent level of social existence by way of social networks. Someone who is as passionate about something –– the way I was about the 1960's for such a significant portion of my life –– will find that any person can access something (that had taken them genuine time and energy to gather and develop over the course of many years) with only a few easy clicks of a search engine. It's instant gratification. The general public can be exposed to what would've taken a great amount of digging, pre-Internet. In a sense, someone like me can feel connected to other like-minded individuals and feel like there is a community for those with similar passions. I refer to it as passion because obsession is much too manic a word for something incorporated so intricately into daily life. A passion that's harmless yet significant enough to be a part of each day is more like a hobby.

In any case, one must indeed have appreciation for how the internet has augmented accessibility to any subject in this universe (and beyond) to anyone and everyone. But to those of us who worked to build a world –– or a cozy, private and fulfilling escape –– that required a lot of commitment, time and effort, all while spending a less than healthy amount time in the company of actual human beings... Well, it can certainly feel a bit like having the roof of your fort lifted right off and your space exposed. Maybe I shouldn't have been hiding in that fort all day long, anyhow. Perhaps I should have just played with everyone in real time. But it was great fun for a cat like me. Of course, the internet allows for finding more 'material' today, with greater ease (wonderful, rare images for example) than when I had searched around in my hard copy days of yore. I appreciate that as much as anyone else. Yet the real gratification is gone to some extent. It is TOO instant. But who has time to go into a library and search old magazines for fun? I've grown up, and technology has changed how things work. I can move on while maintaining the 'happy place' I'd built over the years. (I really have moved on, despite my Francoise Hardy hair.)

Personally, I don't think this is a matter that should concern me –– or anyone, really. Everything has changed so dramatically in the past decade in terms of what people do, and how they do it. So much of what we did a decade ago is now obsolete. People have had to rethink almost everything about how they live their lives. In comparison, my adjustments have been minor. I've always led a fairly simple life and it translates easily to where we are now. I think of this experience as another aspect of that change as we continue to transition into a fully computerized existence.

In fact, at least we're getting somewhat closer to the space-age fantasies of the future that were imagined back in the 60's! 

I'm all for that. And I do still escape to that other great decade of change whenever I need a quick fix.

My Alternate Reality Experience with Ken Russell's 'The Boy Friend' (1971)

It all started back in Greenwich Village, 1998. One evening, I borrowed this funny little movie featuring my beloved Twiggy from the local video store (yes, video) and then never returned it. I wasn't ready to let it go, so I paid to keep it, feigning that it had gone missing. In fact, it was very much present. Every day hence, for about two months. For two months I watched this movie. Even twice a day. At the very least, that is a grand total of 100+ viewings. Before you take pity on the poor soul who might do such a shifty thing, I'll admit that it doesn't seem quite right. But to this day I look back on that obsessive experience with the utmost amusement and fondness. It was so much fun. And I can even explain it to some extent.

At the time, I was also displaying dedication and focus to something else: a back problem I had since I was a wee one (could be described as a type of minor scoliosis, with deeply imbedded tension, that had its share of discomfort.) I was beginning to work on curing the problem on my own. With relentless effort, will-power and a lot visualizing, I resolved it completely in the course of about three years. It was hard work and something I am proud of. But back to "The Boy Friend", it really wasn't so strange to me at the time to be consumed by it. I was a recent graduate who had moved to NY with my own boyfriend. We lived in a great apartment, both considering what to do in the entertainment field, and had plenty of time to do as we pleased. I worked a few nights at the nearby hotspot, so during the day I was starting with this personalized back recovery and had time to myself.

I suppose that still doesn't explain why twice a day I'd want to spend time with Ken Russell's creation. It's all due to its own merits. This film is so brilliant. Silly, funny, charming. It is set in the 1930's and based on Sandy Dennis' famous stage play and musical of the same name from the 1920's. From an outside perspective, one would think it is a film adaptation of the play. But the mind of Ken Russell took this quite a bit further. There are three separate dimensions to this version: the musical play, in a matinee performance; what's happening off the stage with the performers, and each one's motivation; and their own crazy imaginations, often inspired by the play. It is so genius. The characters themselves live in these alternate realities. Each character is on his or her own 'trip' off the stage and each one corresponds with his or her stage character. It's funny to watch, a sort of organized chaos. Not to mention that the film is visually stunning.

I was captivated the first time, and just had to see it again and again. And what I started to do was create a fourth dimension -- me, as a lowly audience member in the audience deprived theater. To this point,Twiggy's character Polly Brown, the assistant stage manager thrust onto the stage at the last minute when the star literally breaks her leg (because after all, the ASM is the understudy for every role) looks out from behind the curtain and says in her cockney accent: "Bligh me! There's more on stage than in the bloomin' audience." Priceless. And one of my favorite film quotes because it's so true in life, as well.

Part of the fun was just that... you see the seats, and they're nearly empty, and there's the occasional sparse clapping from one or two loners in the audience. I loved being part of this bad matinee performance, and in a way it was fun to revisit because I felt part of the group, the monotony of being at a matinee and performing each day to a near empty theater. It was as though I'd embarked on the pathetic and hilarious journey with these characters. It was a bit like "Groundhog Day" too, because each day I learned something new. Of course I memorized all the lines, the songs and the dances. I indulged in that rare luxury of pure entertainment, and this continuous escapism was my own alternate reality... an extended retreat within the fourth dimension to the film's other three.

A month or so after my bizarre marathon with "The Boy Friend", I found myself at a Broadway singing class in a sort of fascination, out of curiosity, wanting to observe. But the vocal coach told me as long as I was there I should do some scales. I didn't want to but he insisted, so in front of class full of Broadway hopefuls I went through the scales, higher and higher, and with little to no effort. I hadn't any idea I could sing like that, but "The Boy Friend" must have brought that out. The singing coach told me I'm a 'pure soprano', that with training I could sing anything on Broadway. Anything Julie Andrews sang, he said, for example -- as he was an older gentleman who would equate any proper soprano singing with her. Oddly enough, though, Julie Andrews' Broadway debut was in the role of Polly Browne in – you guessed it -- The Boy Friend! Chilling what a little focus can do, isn't it? This merely enhanced what was already an enjoyable experience. I did not want to pursue a career on Broadway, but I'll always know someone believed I could. And that's, again, all thanks to "The Boy Friend".

I've since wondered why I watched it so many times, deliberately. I prefer for there to be some purpose in my actions and behavior. I'd have been fine keeping it all to myself as a funny little secret. It never occurred to me then I'd have any reason to share it, if not for  this blog. It's definitely in keeping with Retro Activity. And in fact, if there is any one film I'd dedicate this entire blog to, it would be "The Boy Friend."

Here is one scene I could find from Ken Russell's madcap masterpiece. The film is a rare gem, unfortunately, having never even been released on DVD:

Note: Ken Russell sadly passed away today, November 28, 2011. 

When I first wrote this in 2009, a DVD version of "The Boy Friend" hadn't been released yet. It's good to know there has been a release of it, finally. Here is a more recent clip from YouTube. I might have to create an homage to "The Boy Friend" to share, myself.