i was dazzled by the wall-mounted waves of vibrant blues, soft greens, and earth tones when i walked into mr. song millinery. one custom-made hat, light brown and hanging over my eyes, transported me to the world of gosford park. i checked the tag ($70) and transported myself to mass-produced hats in the room's center ($5-10). as i perused, four women came in asking about aretha's inaugural hat.
mrs. song and i chatted at the cash register:
c: so it's been pretty busy, huh?
c: well, congratulations on your recent success.
ms: how did you hear?
i stared at her blankly.
ms: tv? in the paper?...
c: um. everywhere.
she bent down to get a bag, hiding another smile.
c: oh, i don't need one. thanks.
i put on the charcoal gray peddler's cap. mrs. song struggled to find an appropriate response. glancing at my orange pea coat, blue woven purse, 1940's-style house dress, and dark-chocolate-colored tights, she managed:
ms: it looks nice. it...almost...matches.
don't ask me why - that made me love the place twice as much.
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