Monday, January 12, 2015

~ hats upon hats upon hats ~

One of my favorite parts of having a collection has always been taking inventory - pulling boxes and boxes out of the closet, digging through layers of carefully placed acid-free tissue paper, brushing off any dust that found itself inside the box, straightening out wonky bows, making lists, writing descriptions, and remembering what made me fall in love with each piece in the first place.  Each hat I own has a special place in my heart.  Even if I only wear it once or twice a year, at midnight while listening to Frank Sinatra in my pajamas.

My collection has now reached new heights - over fifty hats, big and small.  1930s, 40s, 50s, and 60s, tiny toppers, enormous 1940s wide-brimmed beach hats, Jackie O' pillboxes, little veiled ones with velvet bows, pink feathered monstrosities with diamonds glued on, woolen berets, etc., etc.

I've found them in antique stores, thrift shops, bookstores, on etsy, in attics, and hatboxes on the top shelf of my grandmother's closet.

Sure, some have moth holes, burn marks, bows that are one harsh movement away from falling off, mysterious stains, and veils that got ripped off by terrible, terrible, horrible kittens (I'm still mad about that), but all in all, I'd say they're holding up pretty well.


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