Animal instinct
A wild history of our obsession with all things animal print.
MOOdboard!
We don’t discriminate. This trend is not cow-print-exclusive.
It’s tough being right. No, really. Back in 2025, I predicted pony hair would be THE texture of 2026. And—feeling a little frisky in the lead-up to Christmas, with a yacht vacay in [redacted] on the cards—I wrote, “this is a pony your feet want to ride.
And what do you know? From Fred Flintstone to Hailey Bieber, the animal print aesthetic is creeping out of the (100% historically accurate) Stone Age and into a shoedrobe near you.
Ugh. I thought animal print was for faux mob-wives on TikTok. Are you sure?
Yes. This isn’t another flash-in-the-pan-relegated-to-the-back-of-your-wardrobe-until-you-sell-it-on-Depop situation. Animal print has been around since the dawn of time. Invest now, stalk/gallop/slither forever.
Fur was a key ingredient in the mob wife ziti bake for one reason. Animal prints = opulence. Ever since the Roman emperor Honorius forbade his court from wearing fur to ensure its exclusivity, the material has roared wealth and status.
If it’s good enough for an emperor, it’s good enough for TikTok.
Um, why? Dressing up like an animal feels a little Mean Girls Halloween.
It’s kind of counter-intuitive.
Humans have adorned themselves with animal hides since the dawn of time (to be very specific, the Paleolithic Era). We snuggled into the warmth and protection of patterned skins. Capes, shoes, shelter. Animal print was a functional byproduct of survival.
A historically accurate reference.
Spot Fred Flintstone’s prehistoric “sabretooth” print.
Skip forward a few millenia. Animal hide was believed to imbue the wearer with its qualities; say, the ferocity of a lion or the cunning of a fox. Seshat, ancient Egyptian goddess of wisdom, was adorned in leopard or cheetah skin. Xiwangmu, Queen Mother of the West in Chinese mythology, was believed to bare the teeth of a tiger and swish the tail of a leopard. Greek god of hedonism, Dionysus, went nowhere without a leopard skin.
Animal print was untamed. Wild. And of course, very, very expensive.
The trend roared into the mainstream in Christian Dior’s 1947 “Jungle” collection.
The master couturier adopted leopard print as a house code from his very first show. Draped in dappled spots, strapped in at the waist, his muse Mizza Bricard struck an alluring femme fatale. Dior wrote, “To wear leopard you must have a kind of femininity which is a little bit sophisticated… If you’re fair and sweet, don’t wear it.”
Why is this costume a code of the sex symbol? Why not, say, of the fair and sweet? Let’s not beat around the bush. The leopard is a predator. A primal beast, roaming where it will and hunting what may. By adopting its spots, the wearer channels these primal urges.
40s pin-up model Bettie Page and 50s bombshells Marilyn Monroe and Ava Gardner cemented its fate. Animal print was glamorous, daring and hot. Live cheetah optional.
The coat that killed a thousand cats.
Was Jackie Kennedy the OG influencer? What she wore, the rest of the world copied. Her 1962 fur coat spawned such demand that thousands of leopards were killed for their skins.
We’ve all heard the saying, “beauty is pain”. But there’s no need for an animal to suffer in the name of fashion.
The Endangered Species Act was passed in 1969. Our own Australian Fashion Week is fur-free. In 2022, Copenhagen Fashion Week banned fur from its shows even though Denmark was historically a major fur exporter. CEO Cecilie Thorsmark described the decision as, “A good example of positive change coming from the bottom up.”
Now? Faux fur makes it easy to project animal attitude.
All the It-Girls are wearing it.
For sure: fur was a cornerstone of the Mob Wife trend. See below.
Faux or no, the mob wives of TikTok have spoken. Animal print is a must.
But ask Lisa, KATSEYE or Hailey Bieber. Viva la animal. See below (again).
So, how can you dip a toe in the jungle?
A practical guide to uncaging your inner animal.
My secret style tip: animal prints are practically neutrals.
Break it down: they’re basically brown, black, grey and white. (Tate McRae’s blue snakeskin moment is an exception.)
Option 1: a soft slither.
Shed your skin. Slide into snake. If you identify as a minimalist girlie, animal print makes a clean white or neutral outfit a little bit less… tame.
Option 2: still earning your stripes.
Denim is a classic. But feel like stepping into some attitude? Slip on a zebra slide.
Sneakers say I-could-walk-all-day. Zebra knows how to gallop.
Option 3: loud and proud.
You dress down enough. Sometimes, you want to roar (if you will).
Loud. Proud. Unapologetic. Zebra print refuses to blend into the background.
There’s no need to do a full Kim K on the red carpet. Pair a zebra heel with whatever you can find in your wardrobe, and you have a statement that’s visible from across the street.
Sure, you could blend into the background. But why not be the main character?
Animal print is bold. Unapologetic. Ferocious. Just like you, jostling to the front of the morning rush coffee queue.
Stylist Mickey Freeman says, “animal prints are synonymous with the desire to abscond, to experience the energy of exotic lands and their climates.”
Abscond away.
From your shoe tragic,
Betty xx
Shoes change everything.