Making Hats in a Little Fabric Shop

For a time, my mother had a fabric shop out in the country. It was an addition added on to our home. The best thing about that little fabric shop was that it provided me hours of creating when I shut the door in the evening. I'd tell my mother I was going to do some homework. I did do homework for a while. But when it came time to do my math, I'd turn my attention to the bolts of fabric and the pattern books, and especially the antique hutch full of items used to make hats. That antique hutch was so much more than a hutch. It was magical. Full of colors and possibilities.

Before I began my creating, I'd take loose leaf paper and scribble some designs. To get the juices going, I'd open the pattern books and look at the sketched models for different ideas and ways to wear the hats. Most of the models on the pages wore hats, especially in Vogue. I guess I thought I was a hat designer. Anyway, hat frames came in different shapes. Once I decided on the frame, the fun began.

In the antique hutch were all sorts of feathers in all kinds of sizes and colors. There were jewels and stones of all shapes and sizes and colors. There were single pearls and pearls on what looked like bobby pins and pearls on picks. There were diamond-like sequins of all colors. Even small buttons made just for hat designing. It was all so much fun. I'd lose track of time, traveling from Paris to London; New York to Los Angeles and back. While I didn't actually glue any of the feathers or jewels or stones onto any hat frames, realizing my mother would have a fit, I pretended I did. Walking around the fabric shop, I pretended I was walking down Fifth Avenue or walking down a runway or into a gala event at the opera or anywhere my feathered creation would fit in to the occasion.

I loved those evenings traveling around the world in my fancy hats. It sure was more fun than doing my math. But sometimes it all caught up to me when report cards came out. For awhile I wasn't allowed to do my homework in the fabric shop. But that was okay. I didn't need to be in the fabric shop to be creative. I realized creating can happen anywhere if you try. And it did as I sat at my desk in my bedroom designing more hats and outfits as my math book sat right there next to me.

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