Having been raised in the States and hailing most recently from Florida, I was being pushed just to the right of crazy by this late September weather. I’ve always loved it and found the bright blue-and-white-striped awning and matching blue shutters on the windows above to be cheerful, but even they couldn’t defeat the never-ending gloom that seemed to descend upon our section of London. Our shop is nestled in the midst of Portobello Road and takes up the bottom floor of the three-story white building that our grandmother bought over forty years ago. Gray clouds, gray sheets of rain, gray fog filling the streets and alleyways, gray, gray, gray. I stood at the counter of Mim’s Whims, the hat shop my cousin Vivian Tremont and I had inherited from our grandmother Mim, and I gazed out the window.
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