The Costumers for the Folies Bergere

  I got to meet a high schooler, Abib, who lives here just outside Paris, but is staying for 8 weeks in an internship program with the Costumers Caracao. The Atelier (workshop) is downstairs, floors One and Two. (On A side Note, There is also a Jewish Temple here, on another part of Floor Two. The men sing in Hebrew on Friday nights (the Sabbath) Saturday and Wednesdays. It's so wonderful to hear men sing! I love it! My Father used to sing the cheerful strutting songs of China for us when I was little.) Abib is a handsome black boy with medium-short wavy/curly hair. He told me all about his internship, and we struggled with our English as a bridge. He is staying until the 27th of June, and then goes back to his rural area nearby until school starts again.
 The seamstresses are dyeing, cutting, pressing, measuring, sewing, and fitting cloth to make incredibly detailed costumes. The ones I saw included a huge double-breasted black suit jacket that swooped down to two tails that surely swept the floor as the actor sang and danced on stage.
 Every other weekend, the zero level floor space has been reserved for a huge sale. The first one was 'el camino' fabrics from Mexico, words like Mayan and Peruvian thrown in for good measure. A pillowcase is 50 Euros. Lots of money for those imports. The next sale was costumes, and I bought a muslin skirt for 15 Euros (which also came with a lightly dyed muslin tunic and undyed gauze scarf.) The bottom edge of the skirt was like all the others on the rack - it was tie dyed with faint peach and purple to make it look like poor people's stained garments. It was torn to make a bottom edge - no seam - so since it was too long I took it upstairs and tore about a foot off of it. Julia was shocked. "You already shortened it!?" she exclaimed. Some knowledge of the strength of the fabric and how it was sewn helped me to do this. I've been wearing the skirt at home on hot days and it's wonderful, despite how heavy the muslin really is. It still keeps me cool. I wore it to Giverny.
 Abib has continued to find me in the hallway, wave and smile with his big, glowing white teeth. The other seamstresses don't know how to talk to me until I say, "Bonjour!" and then all the worries fade from their face and they quit looking so 'French and shut down.' They smile and like to recognize me. I have to do the greeting most of the time, however.
 At the sale they offer a smoking area (our little shared courtyard) and offer fruit and wine. They also have a marvelous curtained coat room that they separated from the sale area, and also a fitting room. Leave it to a folies seamstress to know about curtains!