A Swiss motif was decided upon by the family planning the party for my 80th birthday.
Following a number of long distance calls to Rosemarie Bollier in Kansas City, who in turn called her sister Rita in Switzerland, there arrived as a contribution to my attire from my wife, a handsome Hubertus Botta alpine hat made of green wool felt. The hat had been beautifully adorned by Rita and her husband Hans Huggler with various pins commemorating his military exploits and a striking badger-hair ornament referred to by the Swiss as a "shaving brush."
There was one major difficulty, which added much hilarity to the party but reduced to zero any likely subsequent wearing of the hat: it was M-U-C-H too large! End of story? No, only the beginning; for the months that followed were punctuated by transatlantic calls, letters, exchange of cash, mailings of the hat itself, and the combined efforts of three households in pursuit of a common objective: To get the birthday boy a hat that fit.
The seller having refused an exchange (on grounds that the hat had been out of his possession too long), Miriam and I were left to find our own solution. Not entirely without advice however. Rita, during one of those transatlantic calls, told us to "simply boil the hat and it will shrink"!
The ornaments were removed and the hat was boiled, emerging at length somewhat lumpish from water which more and more began to look like pea soup. Stretched serially over various cooking utensils, on drying the hat was donned. Still much too large; indeed there was scarcely noticeable difference. Should we have first removed the well entrenched hat band? Off with the hat band and back to the pot went the hat for another boil. More pea soup. More drying out over an aluminum pot. Still no noticeable shrinking.
Miriam, by now, being practical and given to look ahead rather than back, counseled cutting losses: a mistake had been made; forget it, and move on. I, touched by my wife's efforts to date, developed an inordinate attachment to the hat, and became increasingly obsessed to do what was necessary to make the hat fit (short of stretching my head of course).
After much walking-with-my-fingers through the Yellow Pages, and countless telephone calls, I located Vince Corvelli of Bethesda, Maryland, who, by appointment, would consult and, for a fee, bring fifty years of experience in remodeling hats to bear upon what had by this time become solely my problem.
Mr. Corvelli greeted me at the door. "Oh, you're the man with the boiled hat. Come in." We spent a very pleasant hour together. We talked of many things while he gave me a tour of a basement where were stored hundreds of wood forms and other equipment used in the now moribund industry of applying sheer artistry to the fashioning of hats.
Yes, he took on the assignment, first asking for time to do some preliminary work which would help me decide if still more money should be spent. Some days later he called with words of encouragement, which led me to tell him to go ahead.
So now, for not much over $100, and barely in time for my 81st, I have a beautifully ornamented, much admired, alpine hat that fits. One that I shall long enjoy wearing, the prize of the festivities which a loving family provided on my 80th birthday.
And more. Having noticed on Mr. Corvelli's wall a chart listing the hat sizes of famous men, I now have the knowledge that, while my cranium does not measure up to John F. Kennedy's, it is precisely the same size as Lincoln's and Churchill's!
Paul Borel
March 15, 1993
Following a number of long distance calls to Rosemarie Bollier in Kansas City, who in turn called her sister Rita in Switzerland, there arrived as a contribution to my attire from my wife, a handsome Hubertus Botta alpine hat made of green wool felt. The hat had been beautifully adorned by Rita and her husband Hans Huggler with various pins commemorating his military exploits and a striking badger-hair ornament referred to by the Swiss as a "shaving brush."
There was one major difficulty, which added much hilarity to the party but reduced to zero any likely subsequent wearing of the hat: it was M-U-C-H too large! End of story? No, only the beginning; for the months that followed were punctuated by transatlantic calls, letters, exchange of cash, mailings of the hat itself, and the combined efforts of three households in pursuit of a common objective: To get the birthday boy a hat that fit.
The seller having refused an exchange (on grounds that the hat had been out of his possession too long), Miriam and I were left to find our own solution. Not entirely without advice however. Rita, during one of those transatlantic calls, told us to "simply boil the hat and it will shrink"!
The ornaments were removed and the hat was boiled, emerging at length somewhat lumpish from water which more and more began to look like pea soup. Stretched serially over various cooking utensils, on drying the hat was donned. Still much too large; indeed there was scarcely noticeable difference. Should we have first removed the well entrenched hat band? Off with the hat band and back to the pot went the hat for another boil. More pea soup. More drying out over an aluminum pot. Still no noticeable shrinking.
Miriam, by now, being practical and given to look ahead rather than back, counseled cutting losses: a mistake had been made; forget it, and move on. I, touched by my wife's efforts to date, developed an inordinate attachment to the hat, and became increasingly obsessed to do what was necessary to make the hat fit (short of stretching my head of course).
After much walking-with-my-fingers through the Yellow Pages, and countless telephone calls, I located Vince Corvelli of Bethesda, Maryland, who, by appointment, would consult and, for a fee, bring fifty years of experience in remodeling hats to bear upon what had by this time become solely my problem.
Mr. Corvelli greeted me at the door. "Oh, you're the man with the boiled hat. Come in." We spent a very pleasant hour together. We talked of many things while he gave me a tour of a basement where were stored hundreds of wood forms and other equipment used in the now moribund industry of applying sheer artistry to the fashioning of hats.
Yes, he took on the assignment, first asking for time to do some preliminary work which would help me decide if still more money should be spent. Some days later he called with words of encouragement, which led me to tell him to go ahead.
So now, for not much over $100, and barely in time for my 81st, I have a beautifully ornamented, much admired, alpine hat that fits. One that I shall long enjoy wearing, the prize of the festivities which a loving family provided on my 80th birthday.
And more. Having noticed on Mr. Corvelli's wall a chart listing the hat sizes of famous men, I now have the knowledge that, while my cranium does not measure up to John F. Kennedy's, it is precisely the same size as Lincoln's and Churchill's!
Paul Borel
March 15, 1993
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