beats dr dre ebay named hand first opened it on a downtown boston street

Boston's glad hatter plies an almost This is a good beaver hat, '' says mr.Stephens, twirling it over the knuckles of one hand.He will spend the next hour or so in loving restoration of dr dre another man's favorite hat. For 54 years, inside a narrow lagrange street shop darkened by time and steam, and filled with the rakishness of hats on pegs everywhere, stephens has plied beats by dre best buy the almost forgotten art of a hatter.Like a poet polishing verbs, stephens makes, restores, and repairs fine hats.During the halfcentury he has been motivated by the axiom a man doesn't looked dressed unless he wears a hat.'' My sisters were hat trimmers, '' he says proudly, ready to nurture just about any stained, drooping hat into new sheen and bearing.My father was a hatter, and my brothers were hatters, too.See, i like what i'm doing.You gotta like what you're doing.I'm 80 going on 81. Arthur stephens is the only bona fide, artforthesakeofart hatter left in boston.Once there were dozens.Ernesto marrone has been a customer for 10 years.You can't get this kind of service anywhere else,'' he says, not even in new york.I wear hats because i grew up in an old italian neighborhood where hats were customary.'' Long before stephens bought the shop on lagrange, a man beats dr dre ebay named hand first opened it on a downtown boston street.The year was 1860, the year abraham lincoln was elected president, and mr.Hand proclaimed his shop hand the hatter.'' The shop thrived down one century to another, satisfying bostonian gentlemen who wore homburgs, panamas, top hats, trilbies, derbys, westerns, fedoras, and even boaters.And when the young and ambitious stephens bought the shop in 1934, he kept the name. Today, above the door, slightly weathered and melancholy, a blackandwhite sign still says, hand the hatter.'' The small shop window protected by a steel grate is so dusty and gray there is no seeing through it.One step up and through the open door and into the musty shop, and you have entered a time warp sliced from a faded calendar, circa 1930, with hats, hats, and more hats. You walk in here and say, how come all this junk is here?''' says Stephens, a small man with rounded shoulders and a gruff, sentimental voice.But everything is ready for any kind of hat.You never know when you're going to use this stuff.'' This stuff'' lying about is a noah's ark of the hatter's craft.Shelves and tables full of wooden hat blocks, shelves full of wooden flanges to shape brims, a 40yearold hissing copper boiler(Steam for steaming the hats), ancient cans of luring'' grease(To bring out the sheen of hats), an old ironing'' machine that heats and shapes the crown of hat while it spins slowly on a block, and off in one corner a bulbous, heated sand'' machine(A flannel bag filled with heated beach sand)To lower over a hat on a flange to shape or reshape the brim.