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The fur industry maintains that mink, which account for 75% of U.S. fur coats, are treated humanely and killed painlessly. Fur, the industry points out, is a natural fabric whose production does not pollute the environment or use fossil fuels, as does the creation of acrylic fibers. Nonetheless, U.S. fur sales have remained stagnant -- at an annual level of about $1.8 billion -- over the past three years; during the Christmas season, many department stores are slashing prices to move their furs. To meet the animal-rights threat, the Fur Information Council of America last month launched an ad campaign stressing freedom of choice: "Today fur. Tomorrow leather. Then wool. Then meat." Bernard Groger, co-publisher of the trade magazine Fur World, says, "Nobody can tell the American woman what to wear." Warns Seattle furrier Nicholas Benson: "You're seeing signs of terrorism. People are afraid to wear furs on the streets because of what might happen."
Many women -- and fur-wearing men too -- are starting to think twice before they shrug on a fur and nip off to the office or the grocery store. Ever since she was called "animal killer" on the street, Susan Singer, a Manhattan executive, has been ambivalent about wearing her fur coat. So is New York department-store employee Suzanne Pandjiris, who still wears her mink but fears attacks by protesters. "It makes me nervous," she says.
Moved by ethical concerns, a number of former fur lovers have defected to the other side. Davida Terry, a Lincolnshire, Ill., advertising executive, has kept her eight fur coats hidden in a closet ever since a chiding by an animal- rights supporter caused her to have a change of heart. "How could anyone wear a fur coat?" she now says. "How these animals have to suffer!" Last week, as a gesture of support, Chicago secretary Kathi Hodowal turned over her eight-year-old mink coat to Trans-Species, which uses such donations to stage mock funerals with fur-filled coffins. Explains Hodowal: "I just decided to give up my fur coat. It's so cruel to animals."
Other women stubbornly refuse to be intimidated. Chicago art-gallery owner Eva-Maria Worthington, for instance, does not hesitate to wrap herself in beaver against the winds on the Magnificent Mile. "If they're so concerned about animals," she sniffs, "I think they should go to a pound and clean cages and take care of the dogs and cats. Some people have replaced their religion with animal rights." But it's a jungle out there: even women who have switched to fake furs to assuage their conscience do not feel comfortable. Many protectively wear large buttons that proclaim NO FUR or REAL PEOPLE WEAR FAKE FUR.