This post was originally published on November 6th, 2010
There
is an old hat factory in Septfond - a small town near the chateau we
rent for our Chateau Getaway. I try to explain this hat factory to
people and I can never get it quite right. I want to tell them how it's
an abandoned factory - how one day, the workday bell rang and everyone
put down exactly what they were working on and walked out. A cigarette,
a half finished crown, the iron - everything is left - exactly where it
was left 50 years ago. There are rooms and rooms filled with old
horsehair braid, crinolin, buckram, unfinished straw hat blanks and
yards and yards of old silk labels for berets. The owner, Guy, doesn't
really think too much of his old warehouse - although pick up the wrong
hat to buy and he will quickly replace it with another - regailing you
with the time Maurice Chevalier came in and was personally fitted with
that particular hat. Lately I find myself crossing my fingers and
hoping that the old hat factory remains untouched until we return next
summer. Not that I am worried about the stock being depleted - but more
so about the character of the rooms being disturbed - I don't want
anything to be cleaned up or tidied - I want time to stand still at this
small secret stash in France.
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