Hats

While watching (yet again) one of my favorite movies, You’ve Got Mail, I re-heard one of my favorite lines…

Kathleen Kelly: “Once I read a story about a butterfly in the subway, and today, I saw one. It got on at 42nd, and off at 59th, where, I assume it was going to Bloomingdales to buy a hat that will turn out to be a mistake – as almost all hats are.”

…and it reminded me of how many hats I have in my home.  Some from beach trips, a few from jobs where I have worked, and many – in fact a LOT, from a sweet friend, Miriam.  A woman, from Baltimore, who always wore a hat to church on Sunday.   Not just, I came to know, because she was a pastor’s wife, but truly from a love of hats.

      

They bring me back to my childhood when my mom wore hats … all women wore hats… Hats were in.  Hats, to me, stated the dignity of that time.

I don’t wear these hats in my home.   I happen to agree with the line, that most hats almost always turn out to be a mistake.  They stay hung up and remind me of days that were different, of  joy from the past.