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Umbrellas in Paris: a work of love

At the imposing gates of the Luxembourg Gardens a sign warns of gusting winds and the risk of air-borne branches. A sketch depicts a figure leaning into the wind, coat flapping and umbrella turned inside-out.
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At the imposing gates of the Luxembourg Gardens a sign warns of gusting winds and the risk of air-borne branches. A sketch depicts a figure leaning into the wind, coat flapping and umbrella turned inside-out.

Duly warned, I cross the park and wander along the boulevard Saint Michel. A wrought iron sign marks a shop called Simon, flanked by opened miniature umbrellas, announcing that the shop too is OPEN. I cannot resist entering.

Monsieur Simon seems to understand my curiosity, smiles broadly, and is genuinely glad to talk about his passion. It's no wonder. He is the fourth generation to keep the shop. He shows me a new model, with lace-ups like on a pair of boots. His grandfather opened the shop in 1897 when those who didn't have a carriage walked, and there was an umbrella shop at practically every street corner. In Paris, that meant over 2,500 of them. The cobbled streets were rough on umbrellas and canes, so there were numerous repair shops too.

The Simon family outlasted many a competitor, and Monsieur Simon's mother Chantal Voisin was instrumental in 1958 in reinventing the business with repair service, recovering and creating her own styles. It became her cup of tea, he says.

Monsieur's pride is effusive: the rarity of this specialized business, the service, the quality and beauty of the product are known by word of mouth. Attention to detail confirms the French brand, he says. Besides, it's green to walk now, so everyone needs an umbrella. Prices range from 27 euros to over 200 euros, but of course - he continues - good quality is the best economy. Only six models of any one style are produced, ensuring its exclusivity.

A client enters, inquires about the weight of different models. The lightest weighs only 200g, and is also the most fragile, he warns. In a wind he suggests holding the umbrella at the top of the shaft close to the canopy, and with the other hand pulling down gently on the edge facing the wind. He demonstrates. But, he shrugs throwing up his hands, in a storm don't go out!

The client chooses a collapsible model, Monsieur Simon shows her how to open and close it properly, and invites her to give feedback - for next year's models.

Umbrellas first inspired a business in Paris in 1745. Monsieur and Madame Antoine created "Parapluies Publics," a rental kiosk. They rented umbrellas by the day or night to pedestrians who lingered among the shops on the bridges and squares. Their success led in 1770 to a shop Antoine established in the gardens of the Palais Royal, where elegant society circulated. With the renovations to central Paris created by Baron Haussmann in 1885, the Antoine family moved their store to the new location in the grand Avenue de l'Opera, and this is where I found it in 2009. Now the prosperous shop features canes, gloves and scarves along with umbrellas.

Alexandra Sojfer is situated on the fashionable boulevard Saint Germain. Again, it is a family affair, this time dating from 1834. The umbrellas in the shop window are magnificent. Ms Sojfer herself is there, and I am permitted to browse, under her watchful eye. These are works of art, made by hand and decorated with embroidery, lace, beadwork and even Swarovski crystals. It is here, apparently, that the lined canopy was invented. A great deal of the work is done by Madame herself. The dome of the umbrella is said to represent the dome of the cosmos. And the prices here are truly cosmic. Nevertheless the guest book is full of expressions of appreciation and love for Madame's creations.

Umbrellas are not to be thrown away, confirms Thierry Millet. He is the owner of Pep's, an umbrella repair shop nestled in the historic Passage de l'Ancre in the ancient Marais district. The most beautiful gift I can give to a person is to repair their umbrella for them, he says with feeling.

Monsieur Millet is a repairer of umbrellas, or more accurately, the repairer of umbrellas for all of Paris, and for all of France. This career was not part of his DNA. After a lengthy executive career he bought Pep's from the owner of 40 years. He trained in the umbrella program of the Boule Trade School and now he says he dreams of nothing but umbrellas. They represent an object of quality, he explains - a beautiful accessory that we are fond of.

In the end the disposable is more expensive and besides, umbrellas are not recyclable. He repairs 10,000 annually, from as far away as Australia. In the morning he repairs up to 20 daily, and in the afternoon he attends to his customers. When it rains and others say " quel mauvais temps, " he says " quel beau temps !" The rain does bring in the business.

The telephone rings, Monsieur listens and replies: "I am sorry, I have no ducks at the moment..." A glance around reveals geese, dogs and rabbits emerging from an umbrella stand, the handles of several handsome models.

A client enters saying she has just discovered his shop. She exclaimed she didn't even know there was a repairer of umbrellas. Two ribs and the handle are broken. M. Millet estimates the damage: that would be 22 euros. She hesitates, that's too much: " il a veçu ." It has lived a full life. He nods understandingly. She chooses a new red plaid collapsible and exits.

Monsieur Millet continues. We must have feeling for an object that passes from one generation to another. There is sentimental value in an umbrella in good condition.

He is reminded of a story: Field Marshal Delattre de Tassigny had a close childhood friend from his native village. They went to school together and always kept in touch. During the war this friend served under his command. Years later the two friends met again at a ceremony in a cemetery. Here the Field Marshal gave his friend his umbrella as a token of their friendship.
The friend's son had brought this famous umbrella in dilapidated state to Pep's for repair. Pep's is up to the task. " Aussitot dit, aussitot fait! " says M. Millet. No sooner said than done. Now this umbrella with great sentimental value is as good as new, but still retains its historic character and charm.

Another client enters: "I have a sick umbrella..."

It's time for me to find my long way back to the Luxembourg Gardens. The wind has picked up and it's raining. Ahead of me a Parisienne is leaning into the wind, firmly holding the edge of her umbrella.