In France it seems festive. People come in from the cold, smiling, in the winter sleet and snow, and order cafe cremes and blow through the door with blowing wind, smiling. And there are bells on the doors, and when the door opens and closes everyone gets cold for a minute- a rush of freezing winter air- but then the door closes and they are still happy and warm and this is all part of it. On these nights, people eat boeuf bourguignon and talk about designs late into the night. Or, if it is morning they drink cafe cremes and rush to their studios. There, the forms await them and outside there is snow and pigeons and stone benches covered in snow. They turn on some music and design some things in the light, airy studios that are lit with natural light, but in France it is prettier.
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