This was the view from my mother's hat store on the Main Street of my youth. We were on the second floor. The lawn on that white bank with all the stairs was always perfectly manicured like an illustration in a fairy tale book. It was always the same length. I don't recall ever seeing anyone mowing it.
The store had a huge bank of large windows across the front. There was step up platform in front of them wide enough to stage a five piece band. We used it to stage the fancy hats on clear acrylic art deco hat racks. And to hold the custom mades awaiting pick up.
Sometimes when I looked out I would see our best customer on the steps of that bank. Her signature color was chatreuse. And by that I mean, every ensemble she wore was chatreuse. All chatruese. All the time. It suited her. I want to say she also had at least one little dog, maybe two, also dressed in little chatreuse coats. But I may be making that up.
[Photos are better if you click on them to embiggen.]
Labels: Scenes from my past