There’s something about hats. Even though I love carefree simplicity and am casual by nature, I adore hats. When we cleaned out our parents’ home, after they had died, we discovered a bag of hats belonging to Mom. I have no memory of Mom wearing these hats, but I felt an instant connection to her and claimed the hats.
I love those vintage hats. I have used them often, in displays and presentations. I also claimed Dad’s army hat, and dress hats which I believe belonged to my two Grandfathers. My grandfather’s hats have a spot in a display case in my living room. Mother’s hats were once displayed atop an etegere in my bedroom.
Last summer we added a closet to our bedroom and removed the etegere. Where did the hats end up? It crossed my mind more than once, and yesterday I went on a frantic search because I needed the hats for a skit tonight. To my horror, I found the hats in the garage in two boxes. One box was moist and full of mildew. I almost cried. I cleaned up what I could, and sorrowfully threw two hats away.
I’m not sure what fuels my fascination with hats. I’ve always loved them. Like you, I wear many hats. I wear the mother hat, the sweetheart (wife) hat, the grandma hat, the piano teacher hat, the friend hat, the sister hat, the aunt hat, the writer hat, the speaker hat. I’ve also been known to wear the listener hat, the advice giver hat, the advice taker hat, the learner hat. I’ve often thought about wearing the organizer hat or the clean house hat, but they just don’t make them in my size. Wish they did. Or do I?
Mostly, I wear the hats I love, and I love the way I feel in them. I love being myself. Your hats may be different than mine. If they are right for you, that’s all that matters. Wear the hats you love, and have fun wearing them. Enjoy being yourself. Choose it.
Hats off to you!