Not Really a Fashion Blog Either

I lose things incorrigibly. Keys, papers, library books, driver’s licenses; you name it, I’ve lost it. This Sunday I lost my favorite hat. I left it in the taxi on the way to church in Tunis. Sigh. After vainly craning my neck to peer in every taxi that passed by for the rest of the day, I had to face the sad truth. My hat was gone, never to be found again.

I’m not a big sunscreen person. I have sensitive skin prone to break out either in zits or red blotches when stuff gets put on it. And I also wear glasses. They have wide, black frames, so sunglasses won’t fit over them, and if I tried to juggle prescription sunglasses and regular glasses, I’d probably just lose one or both. So hats it is. But I’m a little picky about my hats. Baseball caps won’t do, nor will safari khaki, large flowers, or old lady stripes. The hat I lost on Sunday was my best sun hat ever.  It wasn’t an expensive hat. I think I spent maybe $10 for it at Target. But it matched everything, and it didn’t make me look like a blatant tourist, even when I was. And oh, the places it went!

I wore it on countless sunny days along the Arno River in Florence, where it went beautifully with the requisite black and white that are really the only acceptable colors for clothing, according to Florentines.

In Ireland, the weather was windier, so after a few near escapes into the canal, my hat descended in chic but ascended in practicality with the acquisition of some bright yellow polarfleece “ribbons” left over from the homemade blankets Grammy made my children.

You see it pictured here paired with bright yellow wellies (thrifted), clashing olive-green pants (gift from mother-in-law), brown shirt with overdone silk bow right under the bright yellow hat bow (left over from photo shoot three years ago), and black and red wool sweater that got washed in the wrong way for wool and subsequently shrank in some places and stretched in others (gift from mother, before disastrous washing). Akk!

Next change of scene for my hat came with our move to Tunisia, where it took on its true glory as a beach hat.

It was also here in Tunisia that Tony finally prevailed on me to ditch the yellow polarfleece. I replaced it with some black organza ribbon that I found in the medina in Nabeul for fifty cents per meter. However, my classy new look had not even enough time to be photographed before it was cruelly cut short by  the previously mentioned misplacement in the taxi.

So yesterday we went shopping at a corner store in Hammamet, and I am now the proud owner of a brand new sun hat. Take a look at Tony making me do the obligatory “bashful fashion blogger” pose to show off those two snazzy wooden buttons and hide the kiddie elastic chin band, which I admit still does not look as bad as yellow polarfleece.

I wore it to the beach right after I bought it, and there happened to be a sandstorm. My hat flew off and rolled swiftly down the beach, attempting a dive into the waves before it was overtaken by Tony and restored to my head. However, I think with a little socialization, training, and replacement of the elastic chin band with some more organza, it will turn out to be a very well-bred hat. And oh, the places we’ll go!