The New Yorker, March 14, 1953 P. 23
A woman who works hard & unceasingly for a better world, went and bought herself a cashmere sweater, as a sort of reward for having to live & work & pray in so chilly a century. The sweater itself was soft and beautiful, but attached to it she found an illustrated booklet showing cashmere goats in their native haunts & and stating "most of today's cashmere fleece comes from China, Inner Mongolia, Manchuria & Tibet. When she realized that she had unwittingly contributed to the support of Communist economy, all the pleasure went out of the garment for her. Luckily, she finished reading the booklet, and learned that the cashmere goat is never sheared much of the wool is collected from shrubs on which the animal scratches itself. The woman owns a smooth-haired fox terrier with a tendency to shed and she hopes to make her own sweaters from hairs picked up in the living room.