We looked at bears dressed in scrubs, train engineer overalls, painter’s smocks and superhero capes. Kate and I started in the main retail space, a career counselor’s office come to life. slot and decided to reverse the customary flow of tour to gift shop to car. On weekends, the excursion is similar but quieter: The sewing machines are silent. (Courtesy of Vermont Teddy Bear Company)ĭuring the week, guests can watch the bear-building process from a few feet away.
Vermont teddy bear company free#
The boy in the striped shirt wears a “button bear,” a free gift to tour-goers. Little visitors can hold the bears, or buy their very own in the gift shop. The company leads tours from four to 11 times a day, depending on the season. Furless faces appeared in wooden cutouts of bride and groom bears. (The state banned billboards in the late 1960s, but mammoth-sized mammals are still permitted.) From the parking lot, we followed paw prints to the main building, a long structure with barn-red accents and a silo as colorful as a lollipop tree. The country’s largest teddy-bear manufacturer, which produces 100,000 bears a year, operates out of a facility in Shelburne, not far from its original site, a pushcart on Church Street in Burlington.ĭriving south from the college town, we spotted our first bear from the road, an oversized teddy built out of hay bales. Vermont Teddy Bear Company fits the profile of local businesses that, despite national success, continue to radiate a down-to-earth charm. Vermont prides itself on its homegrown industry: Ben and Jerry’s, Cabot Creamery, Magic Hat Brewing Company, Bernie Sanders. Kate was speechless, but still could move her limbs, so we set off to replace the bear that no longer had a standing reservation at her tea party. They sat on shelves and sprawled on the floor like guests after a Thanksgiving feast. They hung from the ceiling and covered multitiered tables. Her eyes bugged out as she surveyed the land - teddy bears everywhere. Kate felt no remorse for her former friend as she raced into the Bear Shop and into the arms of a six-foot-tall teddy as squishy as a bean bag.
The back seam had split, cause for expulsion from the Republic of Stuffed Animals.īut the teddy bear factory is no place for regret. A few months before our weekend excursion to the Burlington area, my brother-in-law had thrown out my 8-year-old niece’s Vermont bear, a baby gift from a friend. My sister carried a dark secret into the Vermont Teddy Bear Company.
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