I’m not someone who wears a hat. I get emails all the time from hat makers who want to send me one, but I always decline. Despite my satisfaction with being comfortable wearing many metaphorical hats, I do not much like wearing the genuine thing. I never believed hats suited me. Perhaps it is that I could never find the right one. However, a few months ago I let a hat come into my life.
I met my hat while in Amsterdam. As we do when we’re somewhere new, Calvin and I wander off the beaten path and just “follow our nose”. By that I mean we go where our feet take us without an agenda. In this case, we walked away from Central Station and came upon a very narrow suspension bridge barely big enough for Calvin and me to walk across side by side. We entered a neighborhood that seemed more a village than part of a city. In search of a cafe, what we found instead was a couture hat shop.
Set in-between two green doors that led to the apartments sitting above was an enormous window revealing some hats. Hands cupped alongside our faces to deal with the glare, we peered in the window. The owner looked up from her work, seeing our curiosity and let us in. Entering we found what was more like an artist’s studio walls painted white with worn wooden floors. I saw hat blocks and wood-handled tools left on work tables and a sewing machine stood on the side looking as if it was just used. Scattered about like leaves on the ground were swaths of fabrics. There were workhorse textiles like tweeds, wools, and denim and those more ethereal like silk and netting. Hats of every shape and size hung on the wall, perched on stands, and strewn on antique dressers and shelves alongside headbands made of colored and print silks. Black and white hat boxes stacked like wedding cakes stood at the far end of the room below an open loft space. We had interrupted the owner in her construction of a perfect blush-colored silk rose. Gracious nonetheless she shared with us she was making a hat for a particular stylist requesting it for an issue of Vogue. We chatted and heard the story of how she came to be in Amsterdam from Japan and then I spotted it.
The “it” being what was to become my new hat. Officially known as a skipper cap, somehow the words Dutch Boy cap sprang to mind instead. Perhaps it was because I was in Amsterdam or perhaps it was the emotional day I spent exploring the spaces that my great-grandparents created (More on this in my next post). In that place, I envisioned my grandfather running around tables as a small boy. Or maybe it came from memories of the paint cans with a smiling boy with a cap I saw years ago in hardware stores. The cap is a deep midnight blue wool with a multicolored silk print lining. I imagine my grandfather must have worn one when he went ice-skating on the canals. But for me, the icing on the cake was the wild and unruly veil that fell from under the brim. The hat was who he was and who I am.
The veil offers me the privacy and mystery that has always been so important to me despite my paradoxical public performance. Better than sunglasses, it lets the blue of my eyes be known and seems to make my red lips redder. I am both accessible and inaccessible at the same time. And just like magic, my cap has become imbued with all kinds of stories. Those who read me know that I’m more of a pragmatist than a romantic unless it comes to items of apparel. It still surprised me I said yes to the hat. But it has become one of the loveliest and most meaningful items in my wardrobe.
One of the silver linings of quarantine for me has been having the time to read. By reading, I mean nerdy reading. Books with titles like Emotionally Durable Objects. Books on the impact of technology on your brain. But more so our relationship or in the age of consumerism the lack of relationship with objects, for example, our clothes. On Friday I’ll introduce you to a professor at MIT who has written a beautiful book called Evocative Objects. We’ll have a chat about it.
In the meantime, please share your own story of something in your wardrobe that makes you daydream and remember or that connects you to your past. Always in this time of the coronavirus, please stay safe and well.
I have to write about my jeans jacket. I have had a jeans jacket in my closet since 1975. They basically look all the same, as one wore out, I replaced it with a like model. My first one was a Levi’s one, with the metal buttons. I wore it for years until I outgrew it. For me, no matter what I put on, a dressy dress, nice slacks, waking shorts… the outfit was elevated by that enduring jeans jacket. I think the term “jeans jacket” is old fashioned and out-of-date, but it makes me love it even more.
Yes it feels like something we invented back then!
Nice
Ahhh I love this exercise. After reading your post I went to my closet and found the simple ring I bought on Granville Island in Vancouver many years ago. We had just taken a train from Banff to Vancouver and ate our way through the city. You see, I am a foodie not a fashionista… We went to Granville because I wanted to visit the many markets, which I truly was captivated with. The main market took me to Barcelona and the wonderful cups of aged prosciutto… Then, while walking towards a smell I had to find, we passed by some jewelry makers. I fell in love with the simplest of silver rings. It has a pearl set in the band. I am not a fan of pearls, but this ring called to me. And now, as I sit here with it on my middle finger, I remember that trip, those scents, that energy. Ahhhh. Many thanks.
I have to say recently food has become more a part of my travel carnival of sensory delights. I recently went for a visit to Austin and became a real foodie as I ate my way through the city and the visit.
Love your skipper cap with veil…an unexpected and wonderful combination! It’s the kind of hat that can take you places without traveling…
Thank you for the great story. Just days ago I found a few sun hats that had been packed away when I moved 4years ago. I was surprised by the wonderful memories they brought back.
Protection and memories!
Years ago I bought a lovely used Japanese silk jacket. I have worn that jacket with jeans, both blue and white, trousers, skirts, dresses – you name it. It is reversible, a brilliant blue on one side and a deep red on the other. I paid all of ten dollars for it. It has given me immense pleasure and reminds me that lovely things last when we love them all the more because they are used.
Well said!
I, like you, have never been a hat girl. My hat found me….in New Orleans, off the beaten path, while we were exploring a cute little neighborhood. It’s nice, and frankly ok, to just have that one.
I agree I think this might be my “one”
I love hats and Amsterdam; my husband is Dutch. I’d love to know the address of this magical place you discovered.
It’s called Demure Amsterdam.
Korte Marnixstraat 5,
1013 HT Amsterdam
Your hat suits you beautifully!
So love this hat! It has personality. This piece was beautifully written.
Be well.
Thank you!
I’m not a hat person either. Except for Derby Day. I love your story and you look great in “your” hat! Funny how unexpected experiences touch us just right.
This post really struck a cord with me. I upcycle to create new pieces of clothing, and rarely wear dresses. However, as I wandered through my favorite store where I get ideas for upcycling, An exquisite silk dress spoke to me. It had the most beautiful print of small to tiny impressionist flowers all a brilliant navy background. The flowers were arranged in size and location so that there is a vanishing point on the dress. Wearing it makes me feel like I have donned an impressionist painting, but when movement is added the fullness of the skirt on the dress transforms into a post impressionist piece, like Monet’s “Flowers at Vetheuil” meets Van Gogh’s “Starry Night”.
I feel like you took me for a walk in an art gallery, thank you!
The hat is beautiful, and thanks for the reading recommendation. I plan to order the book, Evocative Objects. You asked for a story about an item of clothing, and one of the first to come to mind is a long black cardigan that my late mother purchased for me years ago, at least five years before dementia changed her life …. My mother had recalled that I’d been searching, with no luck, to find “the perfect black cardigan” to wear in the spring. I’d searched high and low for such a sweater, and couldn’t find one I liked, or in my size, etc. My mother was out shopping and found a lovely long black cardigan and bought it for me. She left it at the side door on her way back home from her shopping trip — and I was delighted when I found the surprise package waiting for me. I don’t wear that sweater very often now — I have others that look better on me — but I cannot bring myself to give that sweater away. I keep it hanging in my closet, and I think of my mother’s thoughtfulness every time I see it.
I have a Levi jean jacket that i got at yard sale years ago. On the inside of the collar written in black Sharpie is the name ‘George’. A man named George would later become the father of my child and my first husband, in that order. I imbued the jacket with a white fur collar from the 30’s and a beautiful embroidered butterfly squarely on the back. I cut up old sandals and sewed the Indian embellishments onto the bottom all round. I cut up a washcloth and sewed the words ‘dirty girl’ on the lower back. When one of my prized Cashmere sweaters from the 40’s went south I cut the beautiful pearl and glass droplet design off and attached it to one shoulder. A superwoman and ‘walk in peace’ button top it off. This piece has been with me for over 30 years and evolved along with my life. Irreplaceable.
It’s a novel!
What a beautiful story, thank you for telling it.
I absolutely love it! The hat is elegant, mysterious and classy.
There is a yellow gingham dress that I equate with summer, Chicago, and the early years of my marriage. It’s a vintage piece I found while skipping around Wicker Park with my husband and our herd of small children. It always reminds me of those busy, hectic, overwrought years of finding our place in a new city. It isn’t really summer until I unpack it.
I can just see you in it!
The piece that conjures up the most memories for me is an MS Walkathon sweatshirt. I know it sounds like not much of a fashion statement, but being a person who loves casual wear, it works for me. The reason it is so special, is what it represents for me. On this particular day, the day of the walk, I was in an argument with the boyfriend at the time. He was supposed to go on the walk with me, but because he picked a fight, who knows about what… he wasn’t coming along. This relationship was very abusive and I had little confidence because of it. That being said, I did the walk by myself, walked the entire route of 12 miles and in the end felt so empowered. I know that was a long post, but necessary to convey why the attachment is so strong for the shirt. I no longer can wear the sweatshirt as I’ve gained so much weight, but it is still there, in my drawer and reminds me I am strong every time I see it. Love your post, thank you for sharing yourself with us.
Much Love, Jodi
Yes yes! This is the potential a garment can have to change a life to be an activist instrument. I am so inspired by this right now,
Now that you are a hat enthusiast the wide world of millinery is at your disposal. I’ve been wearing and collecting hats since …. as long as I’ve had a head.
Lovely discovery. Continue to explore and enjoy
I will.
You write so eloquently and beautifully it is a joy to read. I love your hat and it suits you so well. I have bought my first hat ever at the age of 62. I saw an elegant but funky lady in the park shielding from the glare of the sun in a black straw downturned brim hat. I fell in love with the hat and after days of internet searching found one. It has opened up a whole new area of wardrobe possibilities to me. I am delighting in my chapeau!!
A hat has so many functions starting with protection and ending with inspiration as your story reveals
This post took me back a few decades when I met a friend in Georgetown, D.C. After our visit I found a shop to visit and ended up on the top floor trying on vintage clothes and accessories. I must have been there over an hour and no one ever bothered me. Such fun!
Thank you so much for this post. I love your mind! Having lived in India for many years I have a multitude of beautiful, colourful saris and am quite proficient at wearing them, so much so that Indian people have asked who put my sari on for me. I used to wear one almost everyday for seven years! But, my most meaningful is one I picked up in Shantiniketan in West Bengal, India at a mela (outdoor fair) at a little booth selling silk saris made by Mahatma Gandhi’s followers. It is multi shades of orange woven on an old fashioned spinning wheel in a little village hut and made on an old loom by a woman who is poor. I don’t wear it much, but it feels like a fine skin. It is silky, soft, delicate and meaningful. It is so light that I barely feel I am wearing anything. Thank you to Gandhi for letting the world know that handmade items are sacred.
An incredible story and one we should keep thinking and talking about as we envision a sustainable future that is inclusive and respectful of all.
My mother was always impeccably dressed. Much time wass pent in the back room at Loehmans. Objects mattered to her. My mother-in-law was the polar opposite. She felt that objects and clothes had no meaning or signifacance. My mother died 16 years ago. On a bed lay a pile of her magnificent clothes. It was strange – when she was alive, the clothes were hers and they were HER. Now gone, the clothes lay there… just cloth. They had had significance; the embraced her and reflected her out to the world. I have her mink coat. I won’t give that away – on those few occasions I wear it, I am embraced by her.
Yes, I strongly believe what you say is true, there is a unique relationship between an individual and their clothes. Over time they are embodied by that person, just as your mink coat is now.
My dad bought my mom a strand of Mikimoto pearls in 1971 for $139 while he and my mom were living in Okinawa. The pearls were choker length, on the receipt they are called “matinee” length. My mom gave them to me about 15 years ago when I was in my 50’s. I don’t like to have anything around my neck, so I never wore them.
Recently, I went through a jewelry making phase. During that period, I bought some citrine beads to add to the pearls. I found a woman who restrung pearls. I had her restring the pearls with the citrine – 5 pearls, 3 citrine, 1 pearl, 3 citrine, 5 pearls. The strand now hits me mid-chest. I store them in their original red velvet box with the hand-written receipt.
My mom died December, 2019 at age 91.
So sorry about your loss. A wonderful way to have something of hers that you have made yours as well.
I bought a silk blouse on sale last fall at Banana Republic. I wasn’t looking for it, but it found me. I love its loose and luxurious feel; it reminds me of dresses I coveted as a young girl. My mother, a beautiful boho Deutsch girl was generous with buying me dresses, and even back then they had to be comfortable, or I wouldn’t wear them. My Oma would send packages from Germany, and there would always be that one unique sweater, coat, or shoes that I’d wear until it fell apart; I never even thought if it was something my peers would wear. That never occurred to me. I just knew if I loved something, I cherished it, like a pair of golden slippers, mule style, with layers of multicolored, tear drop beads layered across the toe. Absolute bliss when I was nine years old and living in Hawaii. Additionally, I have a newsboy hat I adore. I’d never have thought to wear one, until I saw Lisa @thesilverstylist wearing one. Instant love connection. It’s always lovely to find that treasure that speaks to us and makes us feel in so many ways. And love your hat, too.
You are talking about someone born with the instinctive s3ense of style and knowledge its not about trends.
The brocade suit I wore for my wedding twenty years ago hung in my closet for many years after it’s singular appearance. The jacket buttons are covered in jet beads and the cuffs are trimmed in fox. The skirt is straight, reaches to a few inches above my ankles and features a long slit which extends from hem to above my knees. I never cared for the skirt. It had occurred to me to have it reworked, but it just hung, unworn, for 15 or so years. I was invited to a cocktail party to honor a friend’s 60th Birthday and wanted something fun and interesting to wear. A couple of trips to favorite shops didn’t produce the desired piece. And there was that suit, still hanging there. Well, a bit of inspiration struck. The jacket came out, was matched with tall black leather boots and black velvet leggings. Fabulous! So many compliments. Since then, the outfit had made many appearances at parties, concerts, ballets, operas, etc. There’s a black velvet miniskirt worn in place of the leggings from time to time. Sadly, the marriage has fallen apart and we are in the midst of a divorce. But that jacket can still make a statement and will see me through many more events.
I love your optimistic attitude and the way you are approaching your upcoming transition. Acknowledging the sadness but showing hope for the future. I can assure you there is life after marriage!
Accidental Icon, ever since I read your first blog and fashionable photo’s, you’ve inspired me even more. Your wardrobe is not only beautiful but exceptional.
I really enjoy reading your articles. Have you thought about writing a book on your personal fashion and travels? I think it would be a beautiful and colorful book called Fashion With Accidental Icon. Look forward to reading about the professor at MIT book.
At the moment I don’t have a website. I’ve had bad experiences with hiring a dependable and honest graphic designer.
Stay Safe and Healthy
Why thank you, perhaps I can write a book like that and include some of the wonderful stories shared by my readers too!
What a wonderful story…I thing that a hat “callls” you…. you don´t choose it.
Indeed I have discovered.
I have never commented on your post (although I read it religiously and am very inspired by you) but your article today struck a nerve. A nostalgic nerve.
My paternal grandmother was quite a character. When I was younger I would always describe her as “eccentric”. She came from a very wealthy family, was very well-traveled and well-read, family friends of the Rothchilds, and an artist and pianist. I learned a tremendous amount from her, despite the fact that she suffered from severe depression most of her life and was often bed-bound.
She would have the most beautiful and interesting clothes and jewelry every time I saw her. She used to make necklaces from beautiful amber beads, paint unusual and interesting still life’s (some of which decorate my home today and are among my favorites), play and write classical piano pieces, and cook the few Czech dishes she remembered from her own childhood. She saw in me, as a young girl, things no one else recognized. I was able to read music at a very young age, so she introduced me to the conductor of the Chicago Symphony and I took lessons from him starting at the age of four. She taught me art and music appreciation, fashion and cooking. We would take long, slow walks together and admire the Chicago architecture. We would attend the opera and she would always have the most delicious and unusual candies that we would sneak out of her bag during the concerts.
But she also designed some clothing…and I have a silk top with gorgeous embroidered trim that has been hanging in my closet since the early eighties. I think I will have to wear in today, even in quarantine, to remind me of the inner beauty that exists in people and how inspired I am by simple lessons of love and art.
I think we shared a grandmother. Yours sounds a treasure.
The Tetra External Drive, containing all photos of me and others before I became 70, crashed, so now I dance the photos in my memory, not so Tetra any longer. But a standout is of a black veiled fedora of me age 45, red lipstick, no eye makeup, mysterious (I hoped) veil. Thank you for bringing this one up on the screen!
Ah that sounds dramatic and wonderful.
I, too have a hat that brings back memories.. While on a trip to Taos, New Mexico, I discovered that I failed to pack a hat. Oh, what to do? The sun was beautiful and bright and just screamed for a hat to block some of the rays. So, yes, I have a hat that is perfect for the sun in Colorado, too. My hat stirs memories of wonderful cuisine and amazing scenery.
A hat born of necessity.
Tener contacto con vos es como un sueño hecho realidad!!!!, te admiro y sos una referente muy importante para las mujeres como yo que estamos en la moda.
My hat’s off to you for going for it, your new chapeau.
During this pandemic, I am wearing my scarves purchased during a variety of business trips from near and far. I think back to my travels and know I will be back on the hunt for that perfect scarf, shawl or wrap that speaks my unique language…
Especially useful in a time when we can’t get haircuts and trims!
I have always thought that hats finish the look of an ensemble. I have many hats but I seldom wear them bevause I feel conspicuous in a world where hats ate seldom worn. Baseball hats are worn, but I am not a jeans person.
I really enjoyed this beautiful story about Amsterdam and the hat! I have been there several times and I love it. I love hats, but very often buy one and at the end do not seem to find an opportunity to wear it! Thanks for sharing your story
During Corona Virus isolation, like so many others, I’ve been organizing my things. I happened upon some small vintage Pucci cotton kerchief/hankies purchased for the equivalent of ten dollars in Florence when I visited as a student in 1974 (I’ve kept the receipt and colorful printed tiny shopping bag). That was was my first trip to Europe, so eye-opening and full of delights, and this purchase was an extravagance at the time! It’s been ages since I’ve used them but, poof -they have become headbands to hold back my untrimmed layers and can easily be pulled down to cover my face. I love that these little treasures have waited so patiently to serve and be enjoyed again.
I am just being swept away by all of these memories that are being shared. What a wonderful artifact to have kept.
You look beautiful in your gorgeous hat. I love the idea of evocative objects. For me, photographs are those objects. As a result, during this quarantine I built a full wall of photos that make me smile and remember (thanks to “Mixtiles”).
What a lovely idea.
I too am not a hat fancier, I think my head is just too large. Love the story of your wandering in Amsterdam and your delightful find. I am yearning to travel again and Europe is calling me. Stay well and happy.
I know Europe has been loudly calling my name. Hope I can go back soon.
I adore this hat!!! It’s simple, stylish and sophisticated at the same time.
My Oscar de la Renta dresses and suits that I often purchased at showings with Oscar, himself assisting me. What a wonderful man he was, as well as, such a talent. I led many charity galas wearing his creations with great memories of the designer himself and the charities that I was helping.
I would sure love to see some of those. I have also heard he was a lovely generous gentleman, lucky you!
I immediately thought of my mother’s two gold bangles, which were a gift from my father when we were living in Mexico and are inscribed with their initials and date (1965). Years later, one of our high-strung dogs decided they were the perfect objects to toss around so they are slightly but perfectly battered. Tooth marks probably.
I personally think marks of wear and use make something even more beautiful
In 1998 I purchased a linen shift, Lee Andersen, the designer. It was called the Moon dress I think. The front was black on one side and a mustard on the other with odd stitching and rough applique pocket. Black on the back with a wooden button at the top closed with colorful loop which piped the neck line. It is slit up the sides and maxi lenghth. More than 20 years later I still love that dress. It is best on a hot day as it does not need a foundation garment, as it is opaque and hangs straight touching only the shoulders. I wore that dress a month straight while in Yalapa, Mexico where it was over 100-degrees every day. I washed it in the sink each night. This is my go to when it’s hot. I always get compliments when wearing it. I believe I paid close to $300 for that dress, which I thought was a fortune at the time.
The silhouette sounds gorgeous.
…a lovely, stylish, waist length, wool, three-quarter sleeve sweater…It has sparkling, hand sewn shiny, gold sequins covering every inch. ~Made in the 1950’s~
It belonged to my glamorous mother, Marilou Scharbo, who passed away at age 86. I wore it in my 20’s and 30’s and passed it on to my gorgeous daughter who likes vintage clothing. I felt beautiful and fashionable in that sweater, which had so much meaning to me. It’s a sweater that will not go out of style. Perhaps my daughter will one day pass it on to her daughter.
Stay safe and well.
Praying for us all.
Now that is how to do sustainable fashion!
Lovely . Enjoyed it. I love old hats and with them I daydream that I was in that time wearing them. I am lover of history especially historical fiction. I’ve found hats in all sorts of places. I think they are my favorite possessions besides dishes, linens from my 2 farm wife grandmothers. I was going once a month or so to “flea markets” or resale shops and finding all sorts of hats, brooches, books..of course all that is done for now. I’ve also found some lovely shops in Chichester ,England and Windsor. Quite by accident when “tagging” along with my husband to vintage car events. You brought back many memories. Thanks.
Found objects that a have a story about how we found them are the best/
You look fabulous
Welcome to your new obsession! ( chuckling). I think Hats are ‘the bomb’!
Always have. You remind me of my first conscious choice of a hat. I was five and my outlandish bonnet was a child’s potty seat. You know the kind that fits on top of an adult toilet seat. I thought it was just grand and made me feel so.
That sounds like something my granddaughter would do! You are a clever girl.
Sometimes we are led to a path that will intrigue us enough to change our mind in due time. The right place at the right time. How lovely.
As young people do, I did in my twenties. I wore a navy Borsalino fedora in the spring and fall, waiting for Humphrey Bogart to take notice. Wintertime had my ears tucked under a deep warm Donegal tweed bucket-style walking hat. “A rich eccentric!” my then beau would gleefully pronounce as we strolled our “estate” which then was the slushy city streets of downtown. Middle age claimed me far too early, in my thirties; a lingering health issue and its subsequent job loss had me questioning my self-worth, and the voices in my head were too loud to ignore. Lately, can hear my hats occasionally murmur to me from the coat closet.
“However, a few months ago I let a hat come into my life.”
Perfect. Perhaps, as I near retirement, it’s time for me to listen.
Please do, it sounds like they gave you such pleasure and joy.
The combination of the utilitarian hat with the romance and mystique of the veil is beyond perfect. It suits you beautifully and is a wonderful example of “borrowing” from various styles and periods to create something new and unique. Thanks for sharing this story and image.
Yes, the designer was very. clever indeed.
You may remember, in the 70s, the balloon sleeved blouses. I was in high school and my mother bought me 2 balloon sleeved button down blouses at a discount store. One white and one dark blue. If I remember correctly, there were 3 buttons on each cuff. I loved those blouses! I wore them every chance I could! The white blouse with white pants and my favorite platform sandals when it was warm. I looked good! Worn under sweater vests when it was cool or downright cold. I felt amazing when I wore those blouses with those highly glamorous (to me) sleeves. So baroque! Then the moment was gone and fashion changed and the blouses disappeared for decades. Decades! I was so excited when I saw that high fashion was returning to the statement sleeve and to finally see the balloon/bishop sleeved blouse back in the fashion magazines. But I couldn’t find them in more modest online stores in my size. Finally last week I did a google search and found balloon sleeved tops in my size!! Not blouses, but tees in rayon with some spandex. In multiple colors! I ordered black, white and a mixed print. They arrived yesterday and I am wearing the white one today under a navy and white pinstripe vest today. The sleeves, while slightly gathered at the top drop to the cuffs in that beautiful full balloon drape. I can’t tell you how good it feels to have this item now in my wardrobe to be able to wear it whenever I want!! I no longer have the cute shape I had way back then, but it doesn’t matter! I again have this beautiful (to me), elegant (to me), over the top high fashion item item in my wardrobe again that made me feel so special as a teenager. Is there some “coming full circle” going on here? I suspect so. Your article could not have come at a better time for me to respond.
There is something so luscious about big ballooning sleeves. I share your joy.
Love your insight and ability to let us get to know you. I do love hats and my favorite is the Indiana Jones version in cranberry with leather trim. Brings out the explorer in me when I wear it.
Love to hear what you find during your explorations.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts and experience. Can’t wait to hear about your grandparents! And is it too bold to ask the name of the store/boutique/atelier in Amsterdam? I am/was/will be a regular visitor of that charming and oh so rich place. Thank you.
It’s Demure Amsterdam. She is both on-line and on Instagram.
Sometimes, the synchronicity of small things is best. I love your story. I love your hat. It is marvelous on you.
Thank you.
A lovely read. That hat is very unique!
I am the only one in my family who has pierced ears. Or so I thought. When she was younger, my great grandmother had them too. I never knew until I saw a pair of Chinese gold earrings my grandmother had in a little box. Chinese gold is very soft, and the hooks were easily bent. There were tiny opals in a round setting and a tiny chain dangled to a gold charm in shape of a pomegranate. My grandmother gave me them wear. And I remember them both whenever I wear them out.
Those sound absolutely exquisite.
It was 1998 and it was one of my first trips to the London office of the company I had recently joined. I was traveling with my co-worker and at lunch we decided we want to so some exploring and shopping. The managing director of the London office wore beautiful clothes and she let us know that Joseph’s, one of her favorite stores, was having their yearly sale.
It was a beautiful store, filled with exquisite clothes made from lovely fabrics, and all very fashionable without being over the top. We tried on several things and finally I came to a black tiered, lace skirt with an angled hem line. While lace tiered clothes are now seen everywhere, this was an unusual item for the time. I loved it and my colleague encouraged me to purchase it. It actually was a bit different for me; I was generally more of a classic dresser and this skirt fell outside of my usual genre. We did the math; the skirt was on sale and although I wondered how much I would really wear it, the price was right and I bought it.
When we got back the office, our London colleague asked to see what we bought. I excitedly showed her my skirt and once she looked at it she said oh, my, this is an Alexander McQueen piece. I, not being particularly fashion savvy, said, who is Alexander McQueen? Her reply – he is only the hottest designer in all of Europe right now. Do you mind if I ask how much you paid for this skirt?
I told her the price and she started laughing; no you didn’t, she said. You did the math backward when you converted from pounds to dollars. She then told me the real cost and I almost lost it. That skirt was the single most expensive piece of clothing I had bought in my entire life.
But it was too late; I kept it and to this day still have it. I generally take it out and wear once a year; updating with my choice in footwear and accessories. Every time I wear it I remember the story behind it and I know it’s a piece that someday one of my four granddaughters will love to have as a vintage piece of clothing.
I love this! And how very very lucky you are to own a piece by Alexander McQueen!
Unlike you, I love hats, I fall for hats and I have several of them. One winter day I wore my felt fedora, a man’s hat. I was on the Sablon in Brussels Belgium, as a man murmured but clearly audible: they (women) took everything from us and now our hats also! I am not very witty and didn’t say anything in return but I’ll never forget his remark.
Let’s have aa contest with what we could all say if that happens again!
About 5 years ago on a trip to northern New Mexico we stopped at a trading post. It was a throwback to the past like some old hardware or drug stores I’ve seen – nothing has changed in decades. In the back they had some items on consignment from a Native American (Ute) family. Beautiful items of clothing and accessories that looked handmade and worn for special occasions. On the wall I spotted a hat stuck on a nail. It was hand felted wool with beads, feathers & charms around the hat band. I knew I had to have it as soon as I put it on. I felt transformed and it fit my extra small head, which rarely happens. Now every day I wear my unique hat is a special occasion.
Even more history and stories attached to that hat.
For me it’s not a piece I bought but one I found in the depths of my wardrobe. It’s a full circle Taft skirt my Grandmother made me probably 35 years ago. I remember how she would sit by her sewing machine explaining how she made it. And how I would stand on the middle of the table while she would even out the seam with chalk…
What a great memory.
Hi Lyn, I enjoy reading your blogs and like your straight forward and clear writing style. This article about hats struck may attention in particular. May I ask where in Amsterdam this hat shop is? I live in Holland myself and would like to go there, once the lockdown is over. Thanks.
The name of the shop is Demure Amsterdam and if you google it the address will come up.
Clothing items bought on trips with loved ones always have more meaning, and hold a special place in my heart, and wardrobe. Sometimes, the more unique, the better. Your hat is lovely, unique, and flattering—the reasons one should spend money on clothes, if one can.
and can tell a good story about you.
In the ’70s I was in banking. I had many occasions where I had to be “on top of my game.” On those occasions I had a favorite perfume that I wore. It made me feel competent and powerful. I never wore it any other time except when I needed that extra boost.
I’m curious about what it was I have a magical attachment to perfume myself.
I think you look wonderful in THE HAT!!
I love hats and scarves and have worn them for many years. I will admit on windy days hats present a challenge – especially when one blows off into traffic!
But I bet you run right after it!
I recently bought a hat very similar to yours, but no netting. Mine is dark brown leather.
I recently watched The Marvelous Mrs. Mazel and her promoter was almost never without
her Dutch Boy hat. I had to have one and I got on the internet and purchased one from very
far away. Can’t remember where.
Thanks
Brown leather sounds yummy.
Thank you for sharing the story of your beautiful hat. It has brought to mind so many wonderful memories of exploring Amsterdam. Clothes that have been thoughtfully chosen whilst travelling in far flung places hold a special place in my heart and wardrobe and especially now, make me feel so grateful for having had the opportunity to come upon them when I did, and to enjoy the pleasure they still bring me.
Yes, I think my most troubling thoughts right now relate to the limitations that may be imposed on me because of my age and traveling.
Love your story. Especially taken with your description of the hat studio and all its contents. So glad one of the hats spoke to you! My favorite hat is red felt with a fabulous curlicue by @felthappiness. So much fun!
Stay safe❤️
You too!
Love your emails
Thank you!
I love this hat story! That is definitely the best way to come across great treasures…. just explore where your feet take you with no real agenda. I was young (in my early 20’s) and worked for Christian Dior and Ralph Lauren cosmetics in Pittsburgh. (Yes- Ralph Lauren made cosmetics at one time and they were amazing!) I was invited to a work luncheon and invested in a very cool Plage Tahiti dress dress to wear. It was dark purple, was frayed at the bottom and I wrapped a Kenzo cowboy belt around it. I loved the look. Gloria Vanderbilt was a guest at our luncheon and after making her rounds came over and sat next to me. She told me she always looks for the most interesting person in the room and works hard to sit next to them. Conversation was easy, almost like I knew her my entire life- but most of what she spoke about was her son, Anderson.
What a fabulous, fabulous story! You must be an icon yourself.
You are such a beautiful lady and an inspiration to me. You make me always take care of my skin and dress young and want to be like you. Thanks so much for being you.
I am sure you are amazing being like yourself.
I admire your work and think you are doing an awesome job.
I am currently going through John Casablanca and am the oldest in the classes. You inspired me to do something for me know. A new career move. Can you give me an advice on how to break into this business faster.
Wonderful and congratulations! what career is it you are hoping to find.
What’s in my wardrobe that makes me daydream and remember the past? Maybe it’s not about any fashion item but it’s about the good old scent of detergent 🙂
That was my perfume for many years when raising a young child and working full time!
Hope you’re doing well and stay safe, too!
I worked in London in the beginning of the 80’ies. It was custom to go out for lunch and in my walks I discovered Sout Molton Street. That street held the most fashionable shops ever.
My eyes spotted a pair of caerulean blue peep toe stillettos with black piping. The prize was exorbitant. But everyday I went to have a look at them.
I finally saved up enough money to buy them and loved them for years. They inspired a watercolour, an exibition at my study.
Just waking up to look at them next to my bed, made me happy.
I wish I could see them, I think you will like the Friday post.
At five I was rather shy. Of course, in the way of things, my mother fancied dressing me for a warm spring day in a fine dress from a thrift store. It was washed, hung out to dry and ironed gently. You could tell it was fancy, it had one of those built in crinoline that rattled when I walked. It was white, white as the sun, bright, bold white. The color frightened me. I was afraid I would step onto the school yard stage with a bright white dress and a rattling crinoline; my shy self would be known, and everyone would laugh at me. To my surprise everyone noticed only the tiny clusters of cherries printed on the dress. Your cherry dress is pretty” one girl said. Even my teacher told me I should smile in such a pretty dress all full of lovely cherries. I was no longer shy, I was pretty in a cherry dress and even at that tender age I knew I would adore fashion and have ever since, although I am still told I don’t smile enough.
What a beautiful story so rich in detail. I am going to share it with my granddaughter.
Beautiful hat. The story that goes with it is lovely as well.
Thank you!
Wow! How can we order one? Love it!
The shop is called Demure Amsterdam and you can find it on-line.
My heart sings with the eloquence of this entire piece. And your beautiful “cap”. It is entirely you, with such exquisite countenance.
Praises for sharing with us.
Wear often and in great joy.’
Judy Truex Reed
Thank you for your generous comment!
That is lovely and it makes me sad that when I downsized, I gave nearly everything away. I saved only a few small mementos and of course, my photos.
I was a child of the 60’s and 70’s. When I was a young girl (very much a Tomboy) I longed for a particular deerskin jacket with a double row of fringes that I found at the Deerskin Trading Post. I did extra odd jobs (ironing, housekeeping for others, baby-sitting, raking, mowing lawns) to get this jacket that my mom let me put on ‘lay-away’ (wow – that’s a long gone term).
I saved and saved and finally picked up my jacket. The thing about this jacket was the texture. Most deerskin jackets were stiff to touch, perhaps from the dyes that were used. My jacket was soft, supple and pliable – it smelled absolutely heavenly! It was lined with a silky material right down into the sleeves and the pockets. Somehow I considered the animal that donated it, did so JUST FOR ME and I felt its presence like a holy gift when I wore it. It comforted me in a way I still can’t describe, every time I put it on.
I began having children in 1980 and 1981. I had two sons. When my youngest was about 14 years old he saw my jacket and just had to have it. He wore it proudly for a few years and couldn’t believe I had it as a girl. Unfortunately it was lost in some shuffle of lifestyle changes and woes (divorce, move, depression).
I remember exactly what you describe about the differences in texture. What a lovely story. Perhaps you will need to find something new to make some new memories and stories.
My favorite cousins Daugther 30th birthday was in April. She is in Italy under quarantine. We were asked to wish her happy birthday on a video. Of-course we made a wild one, I used a hat that was given to me on my graduation in Italy by one of my Italian friends. It is burgundy hat, really pointy and with tassels. It was used in really old times for my graduation degree. Using the hat took me back 30 years to Italy and my friends but at the same time gave a wild look to our quarantine time birthday video. Stay safe and well.
That’s so funny, I adore my deep blue velvet doctoral cap with the gold tassel. This is the first year I won’t be wearing it for graduation. More because I retired from teaching.
Wish I could insert a picture, over 40 vintage hats on my bedrooms walls. Others throughout the house. In art school – early 80s I did a project on accessorizing, other students & my family started sending their grandma’s hats & gloves & even a purse or 2. My fave small jeweled purse contained the opera gloves, hankie & ticket stub from a Bob Hope show of 1955 (?) I have worn every hat & pocketbook in my collection. About 20 yrs ago I met my husband and happily combined our love of hats. My older brother got me interested in vintage cat eye glasses in the 90’s ( a whole nother collection!)P.S. I look terrible in ball caps.
The art of the found object.
This is my absolute favorite story of yours. I love your visuals of stumbling upon the artist in her creative element, and your hat waiting there to be found by you. The relationship between a perfect item of clothing and it’s perfect wearer is reciprocal and interdependent. That fabulous hat would look good on a lot of people, but like you said, it is you and you are it, so it looks beyond good on you, it looks ‘meant to be’.
The way I found my favorite piece is far less romantic. We were headed for NY to see Heavenly Bodies, so I wanted something beautiful enough for museums and easy enough for nights out. A black, car length Dries Van Noten coat with orange flowers on blue vines called out to me – on ebay! I knew I looked and felt great in my new score, but what really sealed it was that everywhere we went in NY, people were drawn to me because of it. They were like “Don’t I know you? You look fabulous and I love your coat!” Lord willing, we’ll be together forever!
Dries is my favorite go-to designer when I want to daydream. Those prints are just so colorful and lovely.
I’ve always had a similar problem with hats; most styles look silly on me and almost none of them fit (I have a big head, plus my hair is locked up, making it even harder to find a good fit — only men’s hats are large enough). The style you found is one that also turned out to work well on me. I found my hat at the Village Hat Shop, where they call this style a fiddler’s cap. Their online shop has a very good selection of this style in many colors/materials. (I have no affiliation with them; just like their wares.) The classic Greek Fisherman’s hat is a very similar style. Your hat is more refined; the angle of the visor is more downturned and of course the veil adds a flourish. At the same time, it’s sporty, a stylish tomboy look that fits you well. What a good find — also that you got to meet the woman who made it.
In the years since I bought my cap I allowed my hair to turn silver/white, and now the dark gray/almost black wool doesn’t work as well as it used to. I’ve heard it said that your hat should match, or comport with, your hair color. But your navy hat looks fantastic; maybe because your hair is a reasonable length (mine is very long and kind of takes over). Perhaps I should look for this style in a lighter gray. I shall contemplate the matter. In the meantime, congratulations on finding ‘your’ hat!
Coats seem to be my “thing” despite that I live in Western Australia on the sunny coast! I have a velvet embossed coat my mother made me when I found the luscious material in Singapore on a holiday and brought it home. I have her faux fur coat she wore in the 1930’s and 40’s and has on in countless photos. I also have her mink that my father bought her just after they married in 1955 (wildly expensive in those days) and she adored and wore when they went “out” to special places (rare.) But my favourite is my “Camel” coat that I bought from Kate Spade in New York after seeing it in a magazine while at the hairdressers. It is black with white, yellow and camel coloured camels printed on it, tasseled and 3/4 length. The cost was unbelievable but I HAD to have it as I am a camel tragic – 400 camel related items and counting. My husband and I arrived at our wedding riding camels. I adore this coat and wear it often – my friends all refer to Katie Camel coat with reverence. It will be passed on to my nieces along with my mother’s coats as they have constantly expressed the awe that I also feel for these sentimental but awesome items!!!
What a fabulous fabulous story of a life beautifully designed. Curious to hear what the camels meant to you. Why you admired them so. Perhaps in response to Friday’s post.
Good Evening;
The “Hat” looks gorgeous on you.
I’m a fan of hats and scarves and won’t leave my residence/studios with out both being part of my wardrobe.
One of my special hats is a former black fisherman’s hat similar to yours but I had my tailor remove the brim and trim the rest of the round hat along the bottom in black leather.
I wear it a lot and get a lot of compliments about it.
Thought I might share my love of hats and scarves.
Any way please be safe and well
Regards
John-David (JD)
I can envision it and it gives the hat a very cool vibe.
I’m someone for whom almost every piece of clothing has to be distinctive in some way, so I feel closely bonded with almost all my clothes. But I’m haunted by “the one that got away”: a beloved dress I wore throughout the ‘80s but finally donated about 10 years ago, thinking it was time to let go of it. How I wish I had it back! It wasn’t of distinguished provenance—Maggie London, as I recall—but it was of a sumptuously weighty, silky weave, black, printed with whimsical, Miro-like figures in various colors; and the styling seemed to me to be quintessentially French, particularly the generous squared-off Peter Pan collar. It was midi length, and I wore it with black fishnets and black patent-leather Mary Janes. I felt beautiful and dashing every time I had it on.
Ah, a story to remember as I am going through my closet for recycling purposes
shoes — hats …. DIVINE…. you carry yourself differently, with confidence, with an air of beauty. I love both, a love handed down to me from my Great-Aunt Pearl and my Mother Drusilla. Awesome long long pointed toes, black, sleek strap sides, closed in the back .. skinny heel, that were my Mom’s from the 60’s.. I feel so great when i wear them, and I get to tell her story as they are so unique. Isn’t that all part of it ? We get to tell the story … share our love of the feeling, the memories, and allow them live on through this act. The hats are all vintage, elaborate. When i wear these things i am transported to a time when they were first worn – as if they carried the vibration of time and era gone by. As you say it is not so much about the item itself .. but all it represents to us personally. Thank you for being an inspiration .. and provoking us to think beyond …..
Thank you for sharing such a lovely descriptive comment.
I have studied hat placement recently. My findings: Place hat on head, pull brim down in front about brow level. Then tilt hat or brim EVER SO SLIGHTLY. Gets a wow reaction every time. Your hat is magnificent and iconic.
Hi Love the hat and the story!
Could you put more photos? I enjoy seeing your photos styling clothes that are fun to look at.
Roxana
I usually use my Instagram for photos and styling. My blog is where I like to write and engage. Hop on to @iconaccidental for lots more photos of clothes.
I certainly enjoyed your hat story! And it is perfect on you. You brought back a memory from years past when I was still a young woman and my Mom was still kickin’ it. We were trying on hats and laughing at ourselves and each other because we didn’t believe we looked right with any of them! We left that store hatless!
I’ve been sporting a cap with hot air balloons on it for several years; it’s my dog-walking hat and it hangs in the garage with the leash. It is beyond worn out, torn and ratty looking. And even though I’ve replaced it, I can’t seem to be able to part with it; I always choose it over the new hat that hangs next to it!
Hello! I’ve been following you for many year and love your IG. Love your hat story. And love the hat your chose because the veil makes it very unique and mysterious. I am obsessed with hats and have a collection of over 100 hats. I am also obsessed with shoes, boots, suspenders, capes, and now chokers and glamorous wigs. I am the Author of a book named — Ageless Bride. I wrote it for the woman that marries at over the age 50. It is my first book and I self-published in 2017 at the age 58. I am a late bloomer haha. My mantra is: Love is ageless, and so is the over 50 bride! Stay safe! Gigi Schilling
Congratulations on your book and the message.
Hi Gigi! I am 64 with my 1st published book!! As a lifelong poet, several of my pieces are published so to have a book that was a vision become reality is awesome! Congratulations on yours! Shelley J. Evans
Your hat is lovely and suits you. It is special because it has part of your family history woven in.
I daydream with the scent of Chanel no. 5. When I was 13 years old my first bottle was given to me by my two grandmothers. Even now as I near 70 years old I remember those sweet ladies as I spritz it on.
That’s going to be a whole other exploration, perfume as something we dream with
I love the hat on you. Lyn, I saw your new GoDaddy ad on TV and you look beautiful! My mother recently passed away and I have some of her sweaters now. I recently wore her off-white jewelneck sweater with sparkly sequins and someone asked if I was going dancing later that night. I said that maybe I should! It smelled of her Pefume fragrance, too. I felt special wearing it, and felt embraced by my Mom. The same with jewelry and scarves. Memories surface regarding the items.
You’ll relate to my next post. Not sure if it’s my imagination, wishful thinking, or perhaps it’s true but I feel I can smell my grandmother’s perfume on her silk kimona I have.
I too look terrible in baseball caps. However, ALL kinds of other hats make me feel glamorous. At one time I had so many hats that my women’s club at church all wore my hats to service to encourage other women to join–such fun to see so many women in hats (a rarity these days. The oldest hat I have is from the 1890s. I have hats cover with feathers, even one with a fake bird on it. So many hats–so little time. I even made a mink hat with fur that I bought a second-hand store that matched my mink coat. Thanks for all the permission you give to older women to be bold as they enjoy enjoy the delights of not being invisible.
My pleasure! I felt pretty glamorous in my hat too.
I spent my twenties in New Orleans, a poor graduate student living on bartender’s wages. On Sundays I loved to wander the French Quarter, and there was a hat store on Royal I especially loved. These hats, made right there, cost hundreds of dollars and I thought I would never be able to afford such a luxury. Thirty years later, I was visiting my darling New Orleans and found this hat store in a new location. My husband of 17 years had died a few months before (I am always drawn back to this city when personal tragedy strikes) and I threw monetary caution to the wind and bought a hat. A black top hat-shaped straw number with magnificent feathers and ribbon. The milliner was there and she graciously signed the inside ribbon. I wore that hat that day, with many compliments (“Nice hat, dahlin’.”) Now I live in New England where it seems that drawing attention to yourself with unusual clothing is frowned upon. But I still wear it now and then, with that soft southern compliment floating in my head.
I absolutely love how she signed the inside of the band. Wonderful stories.
I am not a hat person, or I thought I was not, until three years ago, when while window shopping in Gallarate (Lombardia , Italy) I came across a beautiful and huge black hat (like breakfast at Tiffany style).
I just had to try it on. It looked great on me! I saw myself like a Diva!
It was the end of the season sale and it was the last one left, so I decided to take it.
As I was going to the cashier to pay, I saw another hat, same type, size and model, but in a warm and hot curry color. Tried that one too.
Looked Amazing! Well, I bought them both. The curry color I used at the beach and it was a success. The black one is still unused, resting at the top shelf of my wardrobe but I try it on many times at home, when I imagine myself all dressed up for a big occasion. In the meantime, I made a decision: as soon as this virus thing is over I will wear it ! Not special occasion needed. The occasion is now, Life is now !!
Waiting for me at the wardrobe there is also a hand made silk japanese kimono, in a floral and bright colors of yellow….
What a wonderful way to celebrate going back out into the world!
Está precioso tu sombrero a mí también me gustan los sobreros y gorras, las uso tanto en verano como en Invierno, cambio de modelo en cada temporada, siento a veces que me da un toque deportivo o juvenil y en otras ocasiones lo uso para pasar desapercibida, cuando no quiero mirar a la gente también en alguna ocasión te puede dar un toque de elegancia con los sombreros que usan en la realeza británica para ocasiones especiales. Gracias por el artículo.
When I was a young girl the fashionable item was a poncho,
I beg for one. My mother had a friend of hers crotchet one for me. Well it wasn’t they one I wanted. However one day I did wear it to school and my friends were so in love with it, it made me treasure it from then on. That was also when I started to learn cloths mattered. 50 years later I still have it just as a reminder?
A fabulous story, one that shows going outside the box can make you stand out.
oh lyn! what a beautiful hat and story. always enjoy your blogs and IG. when my beautiful aunt passed, just 4 years ago, i inherited so many of her beautiful things. these bring memories of my visits to new york from when i was a little girl to now. from our first visit to orbachs for my first party dress to shopping excursions throughout the city for many years after. i barely had to pack anything but underwear for my trips, as i would have all the clothes from her closet to wear. we weren’t the same size – but most things worked! it was about the style! i was so lucky to have her in my life on so many levels. we were more friends than relatives or sisters, really.
A long time ago when I was just a little girl my grandma brought my sister and I silk pajamas with cropped pants. They had beautiful designs, stitching, and embroidery on them. I slept and dreamed wonderfully in them and they were the softest clothes I had ever owned. I wore them until I could not fit in them anymore. I fell in love with silk because of those pajamas. The same grandma also gave me a lovely chocolate brown velvet beret with a ribbon on it and I still collect and wear berets today.
I love hearing these stories. The beauty of upcycling is that you could have taken those pajamas and incorporated them into a new garment that you could wear.
I am in my mid 60’s and have still not found a hat that suits my head or lifestyle. You have inspired me to go down that path again and see if there is something out there to suit me.
Such a beautiful hat! Caps and fedoras are my favourite styles of hat. The veil is a fabulous addition to this classic style.
Emma xxx
http://www.style-splash.com
Lyn,
What an immense inspiration you have been for me, especially at this ‘reinvention’ station in my life. As l rechannel my still-vibrant energy towards whatever organically comes next after the Slinky (of always knowing comes what’s next in traditional life expectations) hits the bottom of the stairwell landing. Still, in contemplation, but not stuck – just idle.
As a former shoe (& continuous on many mediums) designer who paused my professional career to gratefully raise 3 human and 2 massive shelter ‘boys’ for 25+ years, l am finally returning to my more refined roots…tossing the practical4the moment soccer-sidelines clothing (that no longer ‘spark joy’) of a mom who raised her always-active&busy boys like an intuitive artist. I intentionally directed them to discover who they were as individuals of one gender – to find their inner peace, impactful purpose, altruistic fulfillment of deeply meaningful lives (happily, the special sauce to that recipe was having all 3 become feminists!). BTW, I believe boys will not keep being boys if you don’t raise them to become gentle-men…respectful, kind & considerate of all living things.
I so humbly appreciate you representing a stellar example of all ‘stealthly’ strong & quietly powerful women, in hopes of carrying on the same baton to future generations!
M
y
This hat looks terrific on you! Especially with that veil! I am also not a big fan of hats, but I use to wear headscarves. Anyway, look terrific, as always! Kisses!
Lilly from http://fashioncanons.com
I have a pink and gray wool boucle swing jacket my mother made from a Vogue pattern in the 1950s. She acquired the fabric in Germany and made a warm stylish jacket with a gray crepe lining. Since, I live in southern CA I don’t need a heavy coat very often so I find that this jacket is just right for most cool nights out.
I love that it fits me, she made it and after 50+ years its still going strong! Well made quality objects last a long time when taken care of!
AWH! I knew I felt a connection to you in addition to the love of fashion and sustainability. Maybe our shared Dutch heritage. Ironically my Polish grandmother wanted to move to NYC to become a Milner…she was ahead of her time…I love hats and have quite a collection. I lost my favorite one that I found in a small shop by the seaside in Ireland…at least it was lost in Paris so hopefully it found a good home. Thank you for your love and wisdom.
I keep at least one prized item from almost every decade to remind me of something that happened then…some are now vintage, some were vintage when purchased and some have zero value except to my memory bank.
That is such a brilliant idea, documenting the decades with evocative objects.
Isn’t it lovely to have evocative clothes! I love wearing memories. They take you on mental journeys and bring smiles to your face. Sometimes it’s like having and keeping a secret no one would ever guess. I think I’ll now refer to the residents of my closet as “My mysterious wardrobe.”
And, by the way, I LOVE your hat!!
My treasured wardrobe item is a J.Crew coat I bought in a color dubbed peacock green. My things are hats and coats. This green coat nets me compliments everywhere I go. Even a homeless person had told me: “That’s an attractive coat.”
You feel great when you dress well. Dressing well is a form of healing how you feel. In the time of quarantine I place the next day’s clothes on the bed at night to be able to grab an outfit to wear. You can feel down in the dumps wearing pajamas at noon.
Over the years I’ve had critics of my love of clothes. Reading your blog is like getting a shot in the arm of confidence from a like-minded Fashionista.
I have a dress that was my grandmothers that looks like Minnie Mouse’s. Red with big white polka dots. She wasn’t much for camp, but she did love a fashion moment.
Being a nerd for animation, it is bother her and me and I have worn it for a costume as Minnie Mouse.
Mine is a pair of shoes. They are 40 years old. Birkenstock sandals. I have never, ever seen another pair like them. They were once vivid teal and pink, now they are faded and worn into a subtle shift of color, they lace up on the side. Re-corked and re-soled several times. I have walked and worked many many many miles in them. They have taken the trip of living my years with me.
I have a knit hat that I love for several reasons, first is that it keeps me warm just enough as I live in the south and winter is scarce, the color is a lovely mix of clove brown and cream and the best thing is that it is one of the first items that my daughter Mandy sold from her small design company located in Brooklyn. The bravery behind her move to work for herself along with the beautiful workmanship make it my favorite winter accessory. People always ask about it which leads me to wonder if the appeal is all about the look or if my love of the hat shows when I wear it.