Josh Kaplan
In 1960-1961, my aunt and uncle drove from North Cape, Norway, to Capetown, South Africa, in, of all things, a brand new Ford Falcon. The trip was undertaken as part of my uncle’s job as a photographer for LIFE magazine. Ford had donated the vehicle for publicity purposes.
Aunt Lorna had no issue getting down and dirty. such as the time that they had to dig the car out of deep sand they’d accidentally driven into. Or holding naked, screaming babies as doctors gave them anti-malaria shots and other vaccines.
But…she was also, given the right setting, a very beautiful and exceptionally well-dressed woman. And on the very long excursion through Africa, she was able to find numerous pieces of jewelry and dresses that she knew would look terrific in New York City, which was near where they lived.
And there was one other piece that she found, in Kenya as I recall, that she could not wait to show off. It was a cheetah-skin purse. The kind of purse that was popular a few years ago. The “only” difference being that the newer ones were prints of leopard and cheetah skins.
Aunt Lorna’s purse is the actual face and neck of some poor animal that likely gave its life just for the purse. The fur remains in great shape, very smooth and very beautiful. The face, too, is intact right down to the whiskers. The purse manages to be both beautiful and repulsive at the same time. But this is looking at it from our eyes in 2025 with many years of cultural and norm changes since the 1960s.
When Aunt Lorna came back to the US, I can easily imagine her walking with friends down 5th Avenue, dressed to the nines and carrying her purse, which I’m sure was unique, even then.
When she was in her eighties, with health beginning to fail, she gave me, among many other treasures, this purse. She described to me how much she loved it and how she took care of it so that it would last for generations. After many years, she was finally ready to part with it and give it to my daughter.
I did not have the heart to tell her that Lindsey, a vegetarian, would never go near the purse! Rather, I accepted the purse, wrapped it carefully for the plane ride to Minnesota and brought it to my home.
I had (and still have) no idea if it is legal to have in my possession. Buying it now would no doubt be illegal, and I doubt that it could even be brought into the US. But I do keep and treasure it for its memories of my relatives long-since passed. And, to be on the safe side, the purse sits in our closet, keeping an eye on things from the top shelf, waiting for another stroll down 5th Avenue in New York City.