It was a good day today once I walked by the furrier down the street from where I work, Davidé Fur — I guess they're French or something — and saw the place emptied out, except for a few bare coat racks and some naked legless mannequins. I believe that if you wear fur, either you're an Eskimo or you're a horrible human being, but the 29th Street fur district is rotten even by the standards of people who club baby seals for a living.

All the fur stores in the neighborhood have the same window display, and I know the picture's not that good but, yes, those are adorable little stuffed animals lining the window sill. And yes, that appears to be a pink chinchilla overcoat. Could they make that poor animal's death any less dignified, maybe painting it with leopard spots or something? It's the teddy bears that are really egregious, though, because those little bundles of cuteness are what they're freaking skinning! It's like taking that "it puts the lotion on its skin" guy from Silence of the Lambs and hiring Victoria's Secret models to pose outside his house.

Davidé Fur was the worst of the worst because their window-dressing cuddly taxidermy was fucking life-size. They were pretty much inviting you, "Hey, you think this Siberian tiger cub is cute? How about you wear it home?" Maybe, maybe if they removed the stuffing and just laid out the animals' felt skin in the shape of a distorted, surreal Pound Puppy or something. It would still be despicable, but at least it would be honest.