The rise and fall of mink

Mink keeps you warm. That’s a most acceptable bonus, but its prime function is status. This week, however, the focus on mink has been for an altogether different reason. Denmark, the world’s largest exporter of mink skins, began culling 17 million minks to stop a mutated form of coronavirus. As a precaution, Britain has closed its borders to anyone travelling from Denmark.

There were once three species of mink: American, European and the sea mink of North America. The last went extinct in the early 20th century because of the fur trade. Minks are related to stoats and otters. They’re great swimmers and have evolved a coat to suit their watery lives: a dense underfur overlaid with dark, glossy guard hairs.

They’re carnivores, feeding on fish, small mammals and birds; they’re strongly territorial and seldom far from water. They can dive six metres deep. They played a significant part in modern history: it was the fur-trappers who opened up North America, though mink was not their most important target species.

Fur-trapping continued as a major industry until demand outstripped diminishing supply. But mink had an advantage: it could be farmed. From 1860, farms became the main source of mink pelts. Mink garments began to change; fur was no longer the lining, ostentatious only at the collar and cuff. It was the whole damn thing, a conspicuous display of personal wealth. Mink was supposed to be what every woman wanted: though as Adelaide sang in Guys and Dolls, such a gift could be misinterpreted — ‘Take back your mink! Take back your poils! What made you think that I was one of those goils?’

In the 1920s fur farms stocked with American minks were established in Britain.