The future of fur

Rannva Simonsen sits at a small table, drawing lines down a piece of white rabbit fur to make hair scrunchies (wrapped elastics).

Her demonstration in an open area of Iqaluit’s Unikkaarvik Visitor Centre is part of the Inuit Art Experience, which allows people to watch Inuit art being made first-hand during the summer months.

Simonsen, runs her own business, Rannva Designs, in Apex, but she only started sewing skins two and a half years ago. She took a course from a furrier who was in town, and she hasn’t looked back since.

She received a $5,000 start-up grant to buy a special machine to sew fur and leather, and is now working toward making patterns so she can contract out work and make production move more smoothly and efficiently.

There is one person who helps her at her store, but she would like to train others. Her store has weekend hours and opens by appointment.

“Working with fur is wonderful,” she says. “They are extra elegant and have meaning in this place.”

As she starts to slice the fur along the lines she has drawn with a sharp blade, she explains that using scissors would cut the hair and make the surface look uneven once the ends are sewn.

On a nearby counter, Simonsen has put out some of her wares, including a beautifully crafted sealskin vest, slippers, purses and beaver fur headbands.

“The hardest part is getting a hold of the sealskins,” she says. “It really is the missing link.”

She gets most of her skins from Qikiqtarjuaq, but they are tanned in Newfoundland. She used to bring in furs from Greenland, but since scheduled flights have ended between Nunavut and Greenland, trade has become problematic.

“I would love to buy them locally,” she says, adding that she has heard there may be some available soon.

“There should be more people in the industry so they could support each other,” she says.

Simonsen is passionate about her work. She discusses the recent mining week held in Iqaluit and the amount of publicity and public awareness it caused. She suggests if the sealskin industry followed suit, there would be yet another option for people looking to making their living in Nunavut.

“There’s a market for [sealskin products],” she says, “but it’s been sadly ignored. There are so many skilled people out there.”

Working with sealskin is a viable option for women she says, because it can be done at home and offers a level of independence.

As she begins to thread some artificial sinew, two young girls approach to watch her. She offers each her own band of fur and a needle.

“You make the thread go around,” Simonsen says, showing the girls how she has been working. “When you pull, make sure the hair doesn’t get stuck in the needle because it will pull it through.”

Jennifer Nowdlak, 10, says she made a green cloth wallet at school, so she knows the basics of sewing. Her friend, 11-year-old Wendy Kanayuk, says she learned how to sew kamiit.

“You know, you can make a living from sewing,” Simonsen tells the girls, who are methodically pushing their needles through the rabbit skins.

The girls finish their projects as other people start to arrive and admire Simonsen’s work. Other youngsters try on sealskin hats as Simonsen speaks with adults about what she is doing.

Other artists will be at the visitor centre until the end of August. Schedules can be found posted on bulletin boards throughout Iqaluit.