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  • Rarely have I felt as much of an alien as I did walking into here, "Fabric World" in Wynberg.

    I found myself shrinking into a corner, content to take a picture or two, as my wife and her helper searched through roll after roll of exquisite cloth to find two matching pieces.

    Not my world at all. After a while, though, the sheer beauty of the textiles began to seduce me.

    Why shouldn't I be a man in a fabric shop?
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