by Sarah Raz
Early one morning, with the dawn mists yet to give way to the plentiful sunshine of the day, a pale Alice was pacing the deck with small uncertain steps. Visibly moved, she discerned a piece of the coast; a low-slung cliff upon which in her mind’s eye she saw Napoleon looking out to sea, planning his conquests.
A horn blast had all the passengers rush to the deck as the boat was approaching the pier, which was a scene of total pandemonium. A crowd of people were waving at their loved ones, while porters were jostling their carts and fighting for the most advantageous places from which to win the disembarking passengers’ favor. A row of carriages waiting to take the newly arrived seafarers to their destinations was visible in the distance. Alice took a deep breath, grabbed hold of the ship’s railing with both hands, cast her gaze forward, and said in a voice whose strength surprised even her, “Asher, you’ll see that everything will be alright. Everything will work out for us here. I believe that if we endured this long journey, we shall not fail. Nothing will stand in our way.” Asher, who, out of concern for Alice’s wellbeing had been in a rather quiet and pensive mood throughout the sea voyage, found a new sense of purpose and confidence. “We shall not fail,” he said.
The porters they had hired did not have much luggage to contend with. Asher had felt that it would not be necessary to bring many belongings as they would be able to buy whatever they needed in France; things that would better suit their evolving needs. Alice felt the same way and now they looked more like a couple of tourists than people who were about to build their lives from scratch in a new place. Asher gave the coach driver the address of his brother’s hat factory. “Surely at this hour of the morning my brother would already be at work, there is no reason to travel to his home,” he said.
The coach made its way rather sanguinely through the bustling city streets and alleyways. Traffic was heavy and the address he had been given was on the road to Lyon, all the way at the northern edge of the city and thus far away from the seaboard. Alice liked the old houses and a few of the streets even reminded her of Sofia. Alice kept an eye out for fashionable ladies and their hats, but found only a few ladies that rather hurriedly went about their business. “It would seem that the kind of ladies that wear hats travel by coach like you are doing now, which is why you don’t see them on the streets,” Asher said seeking to put her mind at peace, as if reading her thoughts.
The coach slowly made its way out of the city and towards the Provencal countryside. Finally, it squeaked to a halt in front of a lopsided wooden shed. “We have arrived,” chimed in the driver. “This is the address you had given me. This is the ‘Fabrique de Chapeaux’”. Barely hiding a chuckle, he leapt down from his perch and began to unload their belongings. Asher lent Alice his arm to help her disembark from the carriage. A walkway made from grey bricks led to the door. Asher and Alice had set upon it, but no one was there to greet them. Asher opened the door and as his eyes were adjusting to the dim light inside, he could just make out the shapes of his brother and sister in law hunched over workbenches with wooden hat molds, big needles in their hands. So preoccupied were they with their work that they had never seen them come in. Asher was left speechless. He saw that Alice was about to faint and hurried over to offer her a chair that he had seen standing nearby. As she sat down, Leon and his wife finally rose to greet them.
The woman, of short stature and rather meager looks, was wearing a grey work smock. Her hair was disheveled and her appearance was quite the opposite of well-kempt. She approached Alice with cries of joy, hugged her and kissed her on both cheeks. Alice offered no response. Leon, a short bald stocky man, whose beer gut was pushing up a sweat-soiled undershirt and whose spectacles were perilously perching at the tip of his nose, was slowly making his way towards them. All Asher, who was much taller than his brother, could do was look down at him and ask, in a soft voice, “where is that factory you had been writing to me about, where is the hat manufacturing business?”
Leon let out a great rolling peel of laughter. “My brother, every workshop in France is a ‘Fabrique’. But fear not, now that you are here, we shall have us the ‘fabrique’ you had imagined it to be back in Bulgaria.” Asher had now begun to sweat as well. “Surely you understand that all that I had I brought here had been with the understanding that I would be joining a successful going concern. Do you really believe that I would have liquidated all my businesses to start a business of which I know nothing?” Asher grabbed his brother by his upper arms, drew him close, looked at him, and exclaimed “How could you defraud me like this, you, my own flesh and blood?! I trusted that family ties were above all other considerations! You urged me, you never stopped writing, you begged me to come! I trusted you…” his voice broke and he continued in a strange high-pitched voice that Alice had never heard before. “How could I have been so deceived, how could I have failed to heed Jacques’ advice? I, who had built up my own life from nothing with my own two hands, I who had always been so careful, so deliberate in all my choices. I, who had solemnly promised my darling Alice all that the world had to offer! How can I ever look her in the eyes now?!”
The women kept quiet, watching the drama unfolding between the two brothers. Alice felt that she had to support her husband and that had she failed to act at that moment, her whole world would come crashing down around her. She arose from her chair, approached Asher, held his face between the palms of her hands, and, looking him straight in the eye, said in a determined tone of voice, “Asher, had we not brought enough here? Our entire life’s savings, in fact? There is no way back. The four of us must change how things are done here. You and Leon will find another, bigger place in which we can work. A place that can hold four workers, at the very least. We will have to invest in the appropriate machinery so that we can produce more hats. I am certain that with the necessary investment and with Leon’s knowledge we can make a go of it. Already I am full of wonderful new ideas for ladies’ hats. Hats that had never been seen in France to this day.” Alice felt her husband’s blood circulating again in his veins. He sorely needed someone who could shake him up and reawaken in him the confident young man he had always been, the man who had never failed to meet a single challenge, the man she had married. Since she had delivered her speech in Bulgarian, it suddenly dawned on Alice that her French-speaking sister in law had understood nothing. She translated her words and added that behind every successful man there stood a woman who had the power to build him up or bring him down and that together they would be the force that would ensure their husbands’ success. Leon’s wife clapped her hands in excitement, promised to do everything she could to help and invited them to her house. Thus, the workday having only just begun, they closed shop and headed to Leon’s humble abode.
The couple’s home was just across the street, so at least they did not have to travel very far. There were no children, although quite a few years had passed since Leon had married. The house was of a meagre appearance, but clean and warm on the inside. Alice’s sister in law radiated a cozy air, as if letting her know that they were welcome to stay for as long as they liked. It appeared that she had no close family and was in dire need of a friend and a confidant. Alice seemed to her to have had all the necessary traits. Near exhaustion, Alice went looking for a bathroom in which to freshen up, but to no avail. Leon had to explain to her that unlike in Bulgaria, in France one did not bathe every day. Washing one’s face and hands in the sink and spraying some eau de cologne was all it took. Once a week, a great big tub had been brought into the middle of the room and filled with warm water. This was when she could get a full bath. “Oh no,” thought Alice. “Hard work is one thing. I will give it my all. But a daily bath is not on my compromise list.” Out loud she said, “Tomorrow we are going to rent an apartment.” After they had taken some refreshments, Alice’s strength finally failed her and she asked for a place to lie down. Asher and Leon left to start looking for a new location for the business. As she shut her eyes, Alice re
called the story told to her by her aunt Sarah, the story about the House of Lanvin, the poor French girl who with her own two hands built the most famous haute couture house in Paris. “It hadn’t been in vain that my aunts taught me the secrets of sewing and embroidering. Witches, mother had called them. How right she had been…”
On the morrow, Asher had already found a pretty apartment. Far from spacious, but with a full bath, it would do just fine. He purchased a few indispensable pieces of furniture, kitchenware, and of course, a sewing machine, a tool without which he knew Alice would be lost. Asher found the corner flower shop and bought all the lilacs and the violets she had in stock. From the local pet shop, he got two yellow canaries in a little cage that never ceased singing from dawn to dusk. He thought that the vibrant colors and the cheerful birdsong would lift Alice’s spirits. He knew full-well that there could be no comparison between their spacious and well-appointed apartment in Sofia and the humble abode they would have to make do with in Marseille, but he thought that he could make up with love and thoughtfulness where he had fallen short in means. When he brought Alice to their new abode, Asher became quite apprehensive and could not help apologizing. But she saw the flowers and from that moment on she needed nothing else. She gave him her sweet smile, a smile he had not seen for many hours and said, “I was not born in a fancy house and I had never lived a life of luxury until I met you. I am used to a simple life. We will work hard together to make our own way. Your love is what is important to me. You neither asked for nor received a dowry from my father, so I will make everything with my own two hands. I will stand by your side and support you as much I can, so that we may succeed.” This show of support from Alice was all that Asher had needed. He knew that with a woman such as this by his side he would reestablish his reputation and rebuild his life anew.
Days passed. Asher and Leon had found a new location for the factory. They bought modern state-of-the-art machines, hired a few employees and started production. Asher knew nothing about millinery, but when it came to business, he could make all the right decisions. Leon traveled to Paris to bring back samples of all the newest fashions in ladies’ hat design. The fashion magazines were full of bombast. The designs that graced their pages were full of over the top decorations; flowery ribbons, combs, chains, and pins, all seemingly destined to showcase the wealth of the wearer. Ladies took to wearing enormous cylinder hats, emulating the gentlemen fashions. Rather than pile their braids on top of their heads, they now wore their hair down in soft cascading waves.
Alice recalled the knitted hats that her aunts had made in Plovdiv and thought that something foreign is often viewed as exotic and desirable. She mustered her sewing skills and made several knit hats with intricate embroidery offset by colorful beading. She possessed a special knack for making flowers out of felt and she made those the pieces de resistance of her creations. Her hats were not too big or imposing and the raw materials were inexpensive. Alice believed that they would help her win the hearts of the working class women of Marseille who could not afford Parisian fashions.
Indeed, these were unusual hats that, like any innovation, had to be aggressively marketed. The little factory soon began to fill up with inventory of unsold product. That was when Alice had decided to try her hand at sales promotion. She put on a fashionable skirt ensemble, told Asher to wear his finest, perched one of her own hats on her head, and together with her husband departed for one of the best-known and most expensive restaurants in Marseille.
Disembarking from their carriage, Alice thrust forward her chin and, supported by Asher’s arm, stepped into the brightly lit restaurant. Immediately as they were crossing the vestibule, the young couple became the center of attention. Her long tresses were gathered behind her nape and complimented the contours of her unusual hat. Their golden hue perfectly clashed with and offset the cerulean blue of her hat, which had been adorned with a pink ribbon. A single felt flower, also pink, had been tastefully pinned to the right side of the hat. Together, the impression was one of a familiar Parisian motif that had been somehow refreshed, made more modern, more suitable to the rapidly changing times.
Asher reveled in her ability to surprise him. He adored her daring do and believed that with a woman such as that by his side he could conquer the world. As he was ordering from the rather presumptuous menu, Alice had been eyeing a young couple seated at a table adjacent to their own. She closed her eyes, focused her mind, and addressed her thoughts to the young woman. “Presently, you will ask me about my amazing hat and then you will join us at our table.” The woman hastened to do just that. She rose from her place, approached Alice, and said, “It has been quite a while since I had seen someone as well turned out as you. I am about to depart for Vienna and I simply must know where you have purchased such an unusual hat.” Alice smiled at her, “why don’t you and you companion join us for dinner and I would be thrilled to tell you all about it,” she replied.
The Uziels were too preoccupied with their new startup to have much time for socializing and making new friends; most of their time was spent in the company of Leon and his wife whose social circle had been nonexistent. Alice and Asher, used as they were to a very active social life in Sofia, to going out on the town and frequenting house parties, had no trouble winning the hearts of their new dinner companions, the couple Rosette and Pierre Bonalli. The Bonallis were among the city’s richest, the owners of a shipping company. Childless, the couple had spent most of its time outside of the borders of France. As the conversation flowed, the food took second place. Alice regaled their new acquaintances with their entire family history and Asher recounted his business life back in Bulgaria. Alice explained to Rosette that she had designed her hat herself and invited her to tour their hat factory. Every so often, the conversation was interrupted by people who stopped by to pay their respects to the Bonallis and they never failed to introduce Alice and Asher as their new friends. It certainly appeared that their dinner companions had known everyone worth knowing in town.
The next morning Alice came to work having spent the entire night adding flowerets and beading of all kinds to ten different hats, so that she could have a line of product to show her new friend. Seeing her with all the boxes, Leon could not believe his eyes; Alice had spoiled all of his “Parisian” hats! He had purchased the newest fashions, carefully curated, and she, who knew nothing of millinery, dared to alter them. Leon raised his voice at Alice, causing Asher to come to her defense and ask him to stop. It was then, with the air in the shop full of tension, that Rosette had made her appearance. Seeing the hats that had been enhanced by Alice, she bought them all on the spot and ordered ten more as gifts to her family in Vienna. Leon kept quiet. It had been a week since he had sold a single hat and Alice just sold twenty. Having taken her leave from Rosette, Alice confronted Leon. “Look here, dear brother. You might be an artisan, but I am a woman and I know what women like to wear on their heads. You make the hats and I will sell them, if that’s alright by you. I never want to hear from you again that I ruin your precious designs. From now on, I will be the designer and I will tell you which models to make.” Asher had no problem with Alice’s words to his brother.
Alice ornamented hair bows made out of bone with bright crochet work. These creations had no functionality beyond holding the ladies hair in place and adding a splash of color, but they were inexpensive and could be worn by women of all classes. For this product line she hired female workers who worked side by side with the men who made the more elaborate full-size hats. All products went through her for final quality control. Commercial success soon followed. Rosette had shared the “secret” of the new factory with her many lady-friends and they all were soon at Alice’s door. The little bows were purchased wholesale by small retailers on main street and in the markets. Costs of production had gone down and profits grew. The Uziels had cause to celebrate.
One night after a busy day, as they sat down for their customary cup of Turkish co
ffee, Alice recalled her Tanti Sarah’s story about Lanvin, the French girl who had founded one of the great fashion houses of Paris. She recounted the saga to Asher, finding in it much in common with their own developing story. Yet again, she reflected on how her life’s path had already been seemingly predetermined all the way back in Plovdiv… she stopped short of boring Asher with coffee reading; that was a matter for women only.
The next morning saw Alice feeling weak and nauseous. Asher, beside himself with worry, called for the doctor and paced the hall while he Alice was being examined. As he was leaving the room, the doctor gave him a smile. “You should expect a little heir in eight months or so,” he said. Asher was beside himself with joy. Radiant, he entered the room in which Alice had been resting. Through her pallor, she was also beaming with happiness. The moment was perfect. Alice prayed for a girl.
The first months of Alice’s pregnancy had not been easy. She suffered from morning sickness, but was determined that nothing would hold her back from fulfilling the strong demand for her creations. She dedicated all of her time to work. Asher hired a household manager to help with housekeeping duties and made sure that Alice had nothing to worry about on the home front. As she spent her time in designing and marketing her line of ladies millinery, Asher had learned to prepare tasty meals for her. Now he had time to pamper her as she had pampered him back in Sofia. Their love seemed to know no limit. They had begun frequenting once again the homes of their new acquaintances. Rosette made sure to introduce Alice to all the society ladies of Marseille. Though none of them had to work for a living, they had all been highly appreciative of Alice’s needs and made sure to adjust their schedules to hers. During one of these ladies’ soirees Alice decided to have some fun and disclosed to her hosts her coffee reading abilities. “Yes, exactly like the Gypsy women”, she said. Rosette lost no time in boiling a pot of water and Alice taught them how to make the strong black coffee needed for the reading.
