Like My Hat?

I love hats although I don’t wear many anymore. Times change, age takes over, and necessity alters the need to wear a hat. I grew up when hats were standard fair. I did not always like them and can still feel the snap of elastic under my chin where Mother forgot her own strength with the stretchy band. But as a young woman I fell in love with fedoras and snappy brims.

This last shopping season a book club member and I ran into each other at a local shop. We were both trying on strange new hats. It was fun…we began to laugh…edged each other on. We ended up in buying hats. I felt like a Russian peasant in mine; she looked like a train engineer in hers. But we bought and didn’t stop there. We have continued to wear them and bump into each other in town, laughing all the way.

Isn’t that what clothes and such should do, invite us to play a little, laugh a little, experiment? I am pretty straight and ordinary about my clothes. A body like mine is hard to fit and money was always a problem. I grew up choosing garments that could be worn a hundred times with different accessories in hopes they would appear different at each wearing. I chose standard black, earthy browns and navy blues. These were sturdy colors that were not memorable to others like passionate pink or racy red. The habit is hard to break, and I  feel odd when I get too outlandish in color or fabric choice.

When I lived in Hazelwood, Missouri as a newlywed, the lady who lived in a ranch style house behind us taught me to appreciate color. She lived with oranges, rusts, and rich greens and a dash of lemon yellow. It was the years of green appliances and I lived with green refrigerator and stove for years.  Funny, now black is a common choice for kitchen things.

So this Christmas I bought a shiny red purse, a bright purple sweater and goofy hat. It isn’t much, but it is a start. So maybe this new year will one where I flower in my personal garden!

How do you color your life?