MOM'S MINK - To Wear or Not to Wear

Me & Mom's Mink Nobody thinks about fur in L.A. But being away from the glorious warm weather and thrown right into the German winter of my homeland, a seemingly prickly topic I hadn’t thought of popped up: Can you in this day and age openly wear fur without guilt and being shamed as a cruel, unethical bitch? Not an entirely absurd question, indeed. But here’s the thing: The coat in question is myMom’s Mink, a 45 year old elegant beauty (just like my Mom herself was) which she bestowed on me when she died in 2010. I’m not really fond of mink, the status symbol of bourgeoise well-heeledness I so detested as a rather radical 60s chick. Mink meant gloves, pearls, scarves and crocodile bags, it was even a star in a Doris-Day-Movie called ”That Touch of Mink”. And I would have never bought a new anything made of real fur, and never have. I despise designers who show still fur in their collections and hope they get booed on the runway and are visited in their dreams by slaughtered an…

OUR DAILY SEXISM - Beware 'cause it's There!


DEAR YOUNG PEOPLE! Thank you for Marching! Letter from a former Street Fighting Girl

Letter from a former Street Fighting Girl

#TimesUp for Shaming, Blaming and Discrediting the Wisdom of Women over 50

Turning my Back on Ageism
I'm an old feminist, meaning I discovered my identity, my talents and my own importance in my own life when I was very young. It also dawned on me that therefore I would have to take responsibility for everything I do and say. In fact I wanted to! It was another important step towards victory and true independence. I didn't want help or sympathy, not approval or admiration from anybody. I wanted to be my own project, hand-crafted by me alone. Quite a lofty concept without a guarantee for success.
Luckily, I was a young woman in the 60s and 70s - so, time was on my side. Liberation and emancipation were in the air - and most women I knew threw themselves into that new battle with passion and a fair amount of fearlessness. Freedom beckoned, we were in love with it. We fought, we won some, we lost some, but we insisted; we grew impatient, yet we kept on questioning patriarchy and power structures, and also took a close look at ourselves! The fire fizzled…