In 2012 or 2013, when I was writing my novel, Five Roses, I bought a FARINE FIVE ROSES T-shirt in a shop on St-Laurent. It's not there anymore--the shop, I mean. St-Laurent still is, though it undergoes periodical and sometimes radical face lifts.
If I recall correctly, the shop sold better-than-average Montreal memorabilia. No snow globes, no flags, but other cool stuff like these T-shirts printed with a drawing of the red letters on the scaffolding high above the southwest horizon of Montreal. I got a grey T-shirt because it was the only choice in a size that fit me.
This green T-shirt belonged to a friend's daughter. She left in a give-away pile of belongings now that she's left Montreal to explore farther-off horizons. The T-shirt is worn and soft, but still gives off vibes of fiery hair, roller derby energy, brazen legginess. I like wearing it, though I'm short, my hair is going white, and I'm comfortable at my desk.
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