The post that I lost on 7 January has been found. It was published as a whole page instead of a post on my blog. Between CONTACT and BLOG, there appeared the title of the blog, Hat Head, as though it had enough clout to warrant a top tab on the website. I copied the writing and deleted the page. Tonight, since I’m close to sleep and it’s my last night in Plett, I’m going to cheat a little and paste what I wrote on 7 January 2023 for today’s post. The photograph is from today – all sky and sea.
Here’s that lost and found piece:
A few months ago before bed, I looked in the mirror and I had a lot of mascara running down my face. I told Jess I was upset that we’d spent a whole evening together and she hadn’t told me about the mascara.
“If you don’t tell me, who will?”
Granted, we were at home in our pjs and spent most of the evening following a one year old around and the mascara wasn’t on the top of Jess’ list to worry about. But she apologised and said she’d tell me next time.
Today I got ready for the wedding in my parents’ room because Jess and Kit were having a nap in our room and because I was leaning heavily on my moms closet since I brought ‘civvies’ on holiday. The first item I tried on was a lilac suite. Moira, my mom, likes match matchy. For her, if she can wear everything of the same color (and even tone within that color), it’s a good day.
The lilac suite was a lot and I knew it was a lot. What I didn’t know was whether it was a lot in a good way – fashion forward. I messaged Jess: Are you awake? I need fashion advice.
Jess came into the room and told me that the suite wasn’t ‘me’. I looked at Jess’ pants. Jess saw me looking at her pants, and offered, “Do you want to try these?”
Jess sat on my parents bed with no pants on while I tried on her black linen pants. She sat like that as I tried on various jackets, telling me what looked best. After a while, I offered my tracksuit pants to Jess said, “Thanks, I felt quite exposed”.
Jess then went back downstairs while I riffled in my mother’s exquisitely neat draw for some base. When applying the base, I thought it looked a bit dark for my mom but reasoned if it works for her, it would work for me.
When Jess next saw me, it took her all of three seconds to tell me my base was far too orange. I then used Jess’ base, which is lighter than my skin tone, asking her whether she thought it best to take off the orange base and then apply the lighter one or just apply the lighter one on top. I went with the latter option. And something about it, I tell you, it just worked.
Arriving at Alkira, in Knysna, I noticed that most people had a white hat on. For a moment I thought I had somehow missed a dress-code but looked closer and saw that they all had the exact same kind of hat on.
Soon I located the basket with hats, put one on and then went to the bathroom – not to go to the loo but to check my hair was okay under the hat. I knew the hat worked. I knew because I look good in any hat that fits. I have what is known in my family as a hat head. A head that looks exceptional in hats – all hats.
One afternoon when Jess and I were newly dating, Jess sat on my bed and tried to claim the title of hat head (only three held it at the time). She proceeded to prove her hat head worthiness by trying on all the hats available – there were quite a few because why wouldn’t I have a lot of them when I look good in them. Let me tell you – she looked sensational in every single hat. Sensational. But I couldn’t tell her that. I had to keep that information to myself, pretend that the verdict was still out. How could I give her a title in the first month? No. She would have to try on A LOT more hats to earn that.
The caveat – any hat that fits – is necessary in my case because I also have the largest woman’s head in pretty much any room (I talking circumference here). I’ve tested it before with an adjustable cap. My head doesn’t look big but it is big.
The hat at today’s wedding was up to the task and so for the first time, I did a ceremony with a hat on. The hat wasn’t the best part of the ceremony. The best parts of the ceremony, in no particular order, were these:
*Kent cried on seeing Charlotte walking down the aisle. I know this because I saw it and also because I had to remove a tiny bit of tissue on his face (only I could see it due to the way we were standing).
*Charlotte giggles when she’s nervous – she told me this and I heard her mom mention it to Kent before he came down the aisle. True to form somewhere in the middle of the second reading she started to giggle and I called her out on it and then lost my place. We laughed.
*When Charlotte’s bridesmaid, Steff came up to do her reading and her phone refused to unlock and she blamed Siri.
*On the ‘repeat-after-me’s Kent was meant to say ‘my faith in our strength together’ but said ‘my face in our strength together’ instead, and so when it was Charlotte’s turn, she also said ‘my face in our strength together’ to make sure her vows were they same as Kent’s.
*Although Charlotte and Kent have made a home in London, it is Knysna that has their hearts which is why they chose to get married here.
The magic in ceremonies happens when you allow the unplanned room – when you greet it and make space for it and giggle about it.