Monday, 9 April 2012

I do so love a hat

Age 2

When  I was younger I was definitely hat girl.

Age 3
Age 4

Every day a different hat would be perched on my casually messy head and I would be set. I had so very many. All of them hung on pins on the picture rail around my bedroom. And they were never conventional hats; in fact I believe there was only one baseball cap, an England one natch.

No, these hats were bizarre and vast. They were made of satins and velvets and they came in every colour of the rainbow. I loved them so much. I even wore my red school beret (compulsory for special occasions only) every day for the first year at secondary school.

I have no idea where these hats are now.

Yes, seriously...
It was when I was 15 and transformed my hair from its shoulder length mass to a Winona Ryder crop that suddenly my hats became redundant. It seemed ridiculous to hide my new found coolness and besides, you always running the risk of appearing bald if you cover short hair with a hat. And, at 15, I was certain that boys did not dig bald girls.

But the other day I was thinking, I may just have to start reinvesting. After all, hats make you suddenly feel more enigmatic, engaging and foreign than you were, bare-headed, only a moment prior… and I do have shoulder length hair again...

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