Like the Black Hat with Pearls, this hat caught my eye while I was Christmas shopping. I was buying a few last-minute items in the little shops in the cute downtown where I lived in the Bay Area. Though I had been practicing frugality, I had just had a financial win—I don’t remember if I had just gotten a raise, or if I had just completed a side editing project, but for some reason I felt I could spend some money on myself. I do remember that I was wearing this multicolored red scarf. I saw this hat in one of the stores and decided I would splurge on it. The clerk asked me if I wanted to wear it instead of taking it in a bag, and I said, “Sure!” Then I was walking down the street on a bright winter’s day, wearing a festive new red hat, feeling happy. A lot of people love berets, but this is the only one I own. For warm hats, I prefer cloches—looser and more comfy. But I always wear this one a few times around the holidays, and recapture that happiness of having a bright new hat on a cold winter’s day. Return to The Hat Project main page.
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The first time I wore this hat was to a “Crazy Socks and Hats” New Year’s Eve party. I was in my 20s. I had bought this hat at a department store, but never worn it (as has been the case with so many of my hats through the years). I figured it was the closest thing I had to a crazy hat. I’m not sure why I disregarded the vintage hats I had at that time, such as The Pink Hat with Roses. They probably would have made more of a splash than this one. Maybe I just wanted an occasion to wear this hat. The people giving the party were friends of my older brother. He lived in the same town as I did, and we used to hang out in bars in downtown Palo Alto together. Sometimes other friends came, but sometimes it was just him and me. He knew bartenders and had made friends with some regulars. In one pub, when a great song came on the jukebox, the group of us would sing along. To this day, Squeeze’s “Tempted” reminds me of the Rose and Crown. I would never have had to courage as a young woman to go to those bars and pubs alone, but with my older brother in the bar I felt safe. So the first time I wore this hat, I was dancing with a bunch of my brother’s friends on New Year’s Eve, shoeless, like everyone else, so I could show off my silver-threaded socks. I’ve worn a few other hats on New Year’s Eve through the years, most recently The Lilac Parkhurst Hat at a scarily huge bonfire in the city park a few years ago. After debuting as New Year’s Hat, this hat over the years has become my Christmas Eve hat. The red plaid band and bow make a subtle Christmas statement, and since it’s wool, it’s a good winter hat. This year I wore it on a rainy Sunday before Christmas. But maybe I’ll wear it again on New Year’s Eve, for auld lang syne. Wishing all of you a happy 2020! Return to The Hat Project main page.
I met my husband on a job interview for a job I didn’t get. As the project lead of that group, he was one of the people interviewing me. Though that group didn’t hire me, they passed along my resume to another manager in the organization, who did hire me as a project lead in her group. So instead of working for my future husband, I became his peer. Since we would never have dated if he was leading my work, I’ve always been grateful I didn’t get the first job I interviewed for. We had known each other for about a year before we started going out. At first, we kept the fact that we were dating quiet. Having seen many workplace romances become a source of gossip, especially when they didn’t work out, I didn’t want to be the subject of speculation. We didn’t leave the office together, or go out to lunch every day, or meet up in the coffee room accidentally on purpose. However, after we had dated a few months, the company got acquired by another, bigger company. We had to decide whether to accept a job with the new company or take a severance package and look for a new job. Both of us decided to quit. As a send-off before the acquisition, the department took a day trip—sailing from Santa Cruz to Monterey on a chartered sailboat, having lunch on the Monterey wharf, and returning to Santa Cruz in a limo. I wore this hat on that trip. Here's a picture of me in this art fair cloche taking the ship’s wheel with a look of nervousness and delight on my face (I kept thinking of the Gilligan’s Island theme). For the first time on this trip, Russ and I were a bit more open about hanging out. After all, we would both be leaving the company soon. We sat next to each other at the group lunch. (A couple of people ordered lobster on the company dime, but as a vegetarian I contented myself with pasta). The next day, back at the office, one of my coworkers commented that Russ and I had spent a lot of time together. “We’re dating,” I told her, the first time I had said it aloud in the office. “I thought you two would get together.” I was surprised. Apart from anything else, I’d had a different boyfriend for part of my time at the company. “You were single; he was single. I thought something would happen.” If only it was that easy to find the right person, I remember thinking. I feel incredibly lucky to have met my husband. Christmas is a time to remember your blessings, and he’s been the greatest blessing of my adult life. This picture is taken in his hometown, in Santa’s Sleigh on the main downtown street. Wishing you happy holidays! PS--In this close up of the hat, you can see that the flower decoration is a detachable pin. I've worn it on the Madame X Hat sometimes to jazz it up. Return to The Hat Project main page.
My first Christmas in my first apartment, I bought a tree so tall I had to cut the top off in order to stand it upright in the studio’s one room. That’s how enthusiastic (and clueless) I was, getting my first Christmas tree. I bought lights and more lights for it, distributed the few ornaments I had (gifts from my college roommates, inherited ones from my grandma Alma) and then bought more. I always have a Christmas tree, even when I’m going to be traveling for the holidays. I love the fir’s forest smell, the glow of the lights in a darkened room, the sparkle of ornaments in the sunshine. Though I’ve never again had a tree as big as that first one, I love the process of choosing and decorating a tree. I can reminisce looking at the ornaments—those from my roommates and my grandmother, those first sparkly glass pine cones I bought for myself, and also the mariachi man I bought on my honeymoon in Cancun, the nativity scene in a dried pomegranate from Budapest, the many ornaments given to me by loved ones through the years. A Christmas tree is a connection to my past, to all the years of decorating a tree as a child (even the scrawny living tree we had for years in the seventies), and as an adult. No matter how busy I am, I always want a fresh tree in the house for the holidays. The only year in memory that I failed to have one was the year we were remodeling our kitchen, with the kitchen contents crammed into boxes that took up half the living room. At the same time, we were in escrow on our new home, going through the inspections and repairs. I had to settle for a tabletop model (complete with ornaments and lights) from the grocery store floral department that year. Even last year, when my husband was out of town, I still managed to bring home a tree in my Miata, a much smaller tree than my first tree, but just as beautiful. This red Breton (bumper?) seemed perfect for a tree-hunting expedition. This hat was one in the collection I got from Sandra that included the brown wool hat. Note that in this post originally, I had this down as a bowler, but I never felt comfortable with that identification. I think now it's more of a Breton, so I've changed the designation. Return to The Hat Project main page.
Almost four years ago, my husband and I moved to a new area where we knew no one. After settling in, we started venturing out to explore the area. We went to the local river park (even though the river is dry most of the year), walked the boardwalk along the coastal bluffs, and sampled syrah at local wineries. We also poked our noses into stores beyond the home improvement stores we haunted initially. Probably because the town is a tourist destination, it has several antique stores,including one a little outside of town, right next to a vineyard. One day we decided to check it out. It’s a cramped store with items stacked atop display cases and chairs hanging off the walls to save space. I moved from room to room, examining depression glass, rhinestone jewelry, a jar of old marbles. Then, perched on one of the display cases, I saw this hat. Now, I knew I had a lot of hats. I’d meant to go through them before I moved but had run out of time (lucky for The Hat Project). The boxes had moved from one house’s spare room closet to another house’s. But the new house’s spare bedroom had a bigger closet. So, I thought I could break my hat moratorium and buy this black velvet one. Something about the jaunty way the little bow stood up called to me. It seemed a friendly hat. Though after moving I felt the lack of my old friends and family, I quickly found out that people in this town are very outgoing. Before I learned to relax about it, I’d get impatient when grocery checkers stopped to chat and people waved each other through intersections instead of observing the right-of-way rules. Almost as soon as we hit town, we joined a chorus and started to make friends. We found a church we liked and became members. After the first Easter, the pastor said that next year we’d be up front singing, and we were. I wore this hat at the service the next Easter. as one of the musicians. Here I am singing (actually, rehearsing before the service) on the recent Sunday I wore this hat. I think visitors to our church say, “What a friendly little church!” I hope this friendly little hat makes a good addition. Back to The Hat Project main page.
I recently realized that “hat lady” rhymes with “cat lady.” The way some people can’t resist a box labeled “Free Kittens,” I can’t resist a box of free hats. I want to give them a good home. I want them to be appreciated and worn. OK, I just want them. Several months ago, my friend Katheryn let me know that a friend of a friend was looking to donate a collection of hats that had been her mother’s. The woman, Sandra, hoped to give them to a local theater company, but hadn’t gotten any interest. Would I be interested? Free Kittens? Of course! We made connections, and soon Susan was pulling up in my driveway, passing off a box of hats. When I brought them inside and unpacked them, I discovered that they were all winter hats, made of wool and velvet. Some were probably from the early sixties, and some might be more recent (perhaps as late as the eighties). Hats are difficult to date, especially classic hat shapes without labels inside. Like my grandmother’s hats, these hats were in basic colors, but those basics included bright red, as well as black and white. Among the black, white, and red hats was this one brown hat. I’m guessing it’s from the sixties based on its shape, veil, and union label, but I don’t know for sure. I thought this would be a perfect hat for a fall day along with the vintage Pendelton coat given to me by my friend and fellow JewelTone Jeanne. And where did I wear it, besides around town to take pictures? I went to Bruce Munro's Field of Light installation. Back to The Hat Project main page.
Every year, my church has a gratitude service and pie social on the Sunday before Thanksgiving. So, of course, I had to wear the pie dress. Here I am posing with the pie I baked, before heading to the service. I’m grateful for so many gifts this Thanksgiving, starting with my wonderful, supportive husband. In addition to his many other great qualities, he’s the photographer for all these hat project pictures of me. He learned long ago that he'd get a big smile from me if I was near a dessert. I’m thankful I have food and shelter. I’m thankful for my friends and family. And I’m especially thankful to everyone who spends a little time reading The Hat Project. I can’t tell you what it means to me. I got this burgundy fascinator a couple of years ago when I was visiting the Bay Area, hanging out with some of my old JewelTones friends. Betsy (aka Rosie the Riveter) had generously planned a gathering, and we sat around catching up and reminiscing about old gigs (the time we sang at a 100th birthday party; the time we were hired because “Tony Bennet wasn’t available;” the time the power went out in a windowless room, and when we opened a door for light, the wind blew all the music off the piano). Bonnie, the costumer, brought out this fascinator, which she’d decided wasn’t right for the JewelTones and was giving away. I actually restrained myself for a full second or two to give someone else a chance before leaping up and trying it on. Then, of course, everyone said I could have it. I’m also thankful for my many generous friends who have passed on hats to me. My best wishes to all of you for a lovely Thanksgiving! Back to The Hat Project main page.
I waited in the wings while Terry started the sprightly piano intro and the other JewelTones sang “All aboard!” My cue. I strode out front with the JewelTones' vintage suitcase, singing, “Pardon me, boy, is that the Chattanooga Choo Choo?” That song opened many JewelTones shows, and I had the little opening solo. I loved doing that bit because I got to mime looking around and being puzzled. Backing into line with the other JewelTones, I shifted to the background while Betsy, dressed as Rosie the Riveter, told stories of the past, and the other JewelTones took their turns out front in other songs. I was lucky to be able to sing with the group for about ten years (literally--Lucky was my nom de Jewel). Those gigs were some of the best times of my life. Most of the performances weren’t glamorous—we sang in a lot of church social halls and community centers and backyards—but we tried to make every gig special, and the audience, usually older people, loved hearing our vintage songs. Though we had other outfits, our forties costumes were the most popular, as were that era's songs. Our costumer, Bonnie, found me this wonderful forties-style outfit, including this red hat with black feathers. Joining the JewelTones was like gaining nine sisters and one brother (the pianist). We'd spend rehearsals singing "Sentimental Journey" and "Java Jive," eating Deanne's famous chocolate chip cookies, and laughing together. They were the friends who would loan me space heaters when my furnace went out, provide chairs and tables for a big party, bring me an apple pie when I was recovering from surgery. When I left the Bay Area, I left the group, one of the heartbreaking things for me about moving. I did go back and sing a few pieces with them at their 15th anniversary party (you can spot me in a few videos on their web site), but aside from that, I haven't been performing those wonderful old songs, and my JewelTones hat has been sitting in a box in the closet. Recently, a friend who has a small theater put on a double bill of radio plays: The Third Man, and an episode of Fibber McGee and Molly. He suggested attending the performance dressed up, which I decided made it the perfect occasion to wear the JewelTones hat. Rather than wear the entire outfit, I re-purposed some other items from my closet, but I did wear the hat and shoes. (Those forties shoes are so cool, while I was posing for this picture, a woman passing by on the street asked me where I'd gotten them). The plays were a lot of fun, and during Fibber McGee, my friend, Brent, sang a couple of forties solos, including “Embraceable You.” That song was the first JewelTones song I (nervously) soloed in, with a lot of encouragement. So watching my new friend, I thought about my old friends, my JewelTones family, far away but close to my heart. Return to The Hat Project main page.
I was jonesing for a new hat. I had started The Hat Project a month or two previously, and I don’t think it had really sunk in, how many hats I had, how long this project would take. Or maybe I’m fooling myself—I did know I had a lot more hats to wear and didn’t care: I still wanted a new hat. Recently I had bought three ring hats in an auction lot at shopgoodwill.com. The lot included The First Yellow Ring Hat and the White Bonus Ring Hat. The yellow hat appeared practically unworn; the white hat was a little crushed, but that had been apparent in the listing. And they were so cheap! I was the only one who bid on them. Buoyed by that experience, I started trolling the Goodwill online auctions. It was about a week till Easter, and though I didn’t think about it, it was the prime buying time for hats. I found a black hat I really liked, and it had one cent shipping (with Goodwill hats, often the shipping costs as much as or more than the hat itself). I bid a few times, but was continually outbid. Since I couldn’t inspect the hat’s condition in person, I was unwilling to pay a premium. I looked around again and found another cute hat with one cent shipping, this blue and purple hat. I put in a bid, hoping this hat would not be such a hot item. Alas, someone did outbid me. I raised my bid, and fortunately, my second bid was enough to win the auction. When the package arrived, I tore it open, then sat back, disappointed. The hat was a darker blue that it had appeared in the picture, was dusty, and worse, the feather shaft was almost broken—it was only holding together by the proverbial thread. The long part of the feather that emerged from the bow flapped with the slightest motion. It stopped being an exciting new hat and became a project. I brushed the dust from the hat and dabbed it with a barely damp cloth. Then I went to work on the feather. I tried to delicately apply glue to the nearly severed part of the quill and succeeded only in breaking it off completely. Once the feather was broken, the job actually became easier. I could line up the broken piece with the rest of the feather, apply glue, and shove it under the bow, hiding the mending job. (I meant to take a before picture of the repair but completely forgot). And though I worried about my repair, the feather didn’t fall off when I wore the hat to church. This hat wasn’t my first choice, and was a bit of a project, but I ended up liking it quite a bit. Certainly I had nothing like it in my collection! After I bought this hat, my husband said, “You could have a policy: for every new hat you buy, you get rid of a hat.” I didn’t dignify that statement with an answer. Return to The Hat Project main page.
When I bought this hat, I thought I would wear it a lot. Like The Floppy Red Hat, it's a good hat for a cold but clear day, when you want your head warm but also need a bit of a sun shield. It was made by the same milliner who made The MVP Hat. At first, I wore this black velvet hat often, especially in colder conditions. So, what happened? I made the mistake of wearing this hat at a particularly bad time of my life. I had tennis elbow in both arms and wore braces continually. My arms were weak and painful, and I wondered how much longer I could carry on working on a computer keyboard. One cool evening I wore this hat while doing yardwork. I was picking up the fruit that had fallen off our big Santa Rosa plum tree in our front yard. We were buried in plums, unable to eat as many as we had, yet I still felt I had to bring them in the house, where the majority of them rotted on the counter before I could do anything with them. A miasma of fermenting fruit pervaded the house. The tree hung over the sidewalk, making a sticky, slippery mess. I raked up fruit and hosed off the cement so passersby wouldn't slip and fall. I lugged armloads of smelly, half-rotten plums in the garbage. My arms were killing me and I felt close to despair. Of course, my situation improved. My arms got better with time and rest. A lady knocked on our door the following year and asked if she could trade flowers for our excess plums. She took them to make jam, and since she was a florist, gave me lilacs and gerbera daisies and Christmastime holly. Yet, this hat still felt stained to me. Every time I looked at it, I remembered the dark time. But when I started this blog, I said every hat. I chose a particularly happy day to wear it again; a trip to the ocean with my visiting mother. And, we went to see sea otters, which I often do when feeling down. They are a sure-fire mood lifter. You can see them in the first picture, blurred out lumps in the ocean behind me. So now I can look at this hat, remember otters, and smile. And, in case you need cheering up, here's an otter video I took that day. Return to The Hat Project main page.
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AuthorAnn Hillesland writes fiction and nonfiction and collects hats. In this blog she vows to wear (not just model, but wear out of the house) every one of her hats, blogging about their histories and their meanings for her. Archives
March 2024
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