The fitting mirror

An original literary non-fiction-style account of accompanying a friend to a milliner's shop.

My friend had brought a photograph of the outfit she planned to wear. Her mother had brought opinions. Before the milliner had lifted a hat from its stand, the two visitors had agreed that something dramatic was needed. They had not agreed on what dramatic meant.

The milliner placed a broad blue hat on my friend's head and stepped aside. Her mother admired it immediately. My friend turned towards the second mirror, where she could see its side, and asked whether it would stay in place if she looked down. The milliner asked her to try the movement. One hand rose at once to steady the brim.

A smaller hat followed. My friend forgot to touch it while speaking. The milliner noticed and asked whether she would be travelling by car or walking to the event. Her mother began to answer. The milliner waited, still looking at my friend, until my friend explained the route herself.

We spent the next ten minutes moving between the mirrors and the doorway, where the light was different. Nothing was declared perfect. The milliner adjusted a piece of ribbon, took it off again and wrote down two possible changes. She asked my friend which version felt more like her own choice.

At the counter, my friend's mother reached for her purse. The milliner said that the hat was not ready to collect and that another fitting was included in the arrangement. My friend put the photograph back in her bag. For the first time that morning, she began describing the hat without asking either of us whether we agreed.

What do you learn about the milliner's approach to helping her customer?