I grew up in the era of diminishing hat sightings. Men and women of my grandparents’ generation and for many generations before that wore hats – hats for work, hats for dress-up, hats for every occasion. There were dunce caps, night caps, and thinking caps. You measured a person’s character by the set of his cap or whether he wore a black hat or white.
And then there are all those expressions like “throw your hat in the ring” and “it’s old hat” and “at the drop of a hat.” The sayings linger and we understand their meanings, but the hats, themselves, are but a memory or, at the very most, costume pieces. You just don’t see men in bowlers or top hats or boaters these days except on stage or in a movie or maybe at a Halloween party. Same with picture hats and cloches and pillboxes for women.
As I remember, by the 1950s, hats were on their way out. Some women, like my mother, remained resolute in their dedication to hats at least for special occasions. They wore hats to church for Easter and, occasionally, they wore hats when they went out to a Ladies’ Luncheon. But, my generation discarded the custom right along with girdles, gloves, and eventually dresses (except in extreme circumstances,)
So, it always comes as a surprise to me when I am drawn into a hat shop and, unbidden, begin trying on the merchandise. It must be some genetic holdover. I like myself in hats but I don’t often buy one, mostly because I know I won’t wear it enough to get my money’s worth. Yesterday, however, I threw that practical notion out the window and brought a conservative little number (a beret) home with me from ‘the big city.’
Even as I write, I wonder where I will wear it and when. But it truly doesn’t matter. There’s just something about having a new hat…
Sooooo cute! Soooo Sydney….Total perfection: Beret slightly above the face framing hair…new specs on eyes…my favorite sweater below, books behind….”She walks in beauty…..”
I remember that your mother usually wore a hat when she was leading the vespers. She was an icon as are you.
I wish hats would come back. I was born in the wrong century. I always loved your mom and her hats.
I like hats, Sydney. I was coming of age during the Kennedy Administration when Jackie set the trend with pillbox hats and my mother and I had plenty to wear to chruch. I got out of the habit of wearing a hat during the late ’60s, but falling in love with going to tea I rediscovered hats. I just wish the beautiful ones were not so expensive. My cousin’s husband says that she can never be in a bad mood in a red hat.
I too love hats and recently began wearing them occasionally, even if I do feel a bit self-conscious. A woman I met at a luncheon who was wearing a hat and looked fabulous in it told me, “Well, a hat is a commitment.” I asked her what she meant. She said that once you put the hat on, you can’t take it off because your hair will be all smashed. I always remembered that. Unless you have lovely straight hair, a hat certainly is a commitment. Oh, and by the way, you look FABULOUS in your new fabulous hat, Sydney!
Love hats. Used to wear them and got a lot of compliments. Now they collect dust on my hat rack. But I still love them.