Two of my very good friends are getting married this year. I am excited about this for two reasons. Firstly, the idea of wearing an Isabella Blow worthy hat. And secondly, the thought of experiencing the joyous moment of seeing people I care about declare their love and commitment to one another in front of family and friends (wow that was a long sentence). But it's mainly the hat thing.
When my friends announced their engagement I always knew I would be donning a hat on the big day. The 21st century really doesn't afford me with enough occasions to wear anything other than a beret on my napper you see. So the plan was to get a massive fuck off hat and sob uncontrollably at the front of the registry office. For many months I have been scouring the globe (OK London) searching for the perfect head adornment. There will certainly be none of this token John Lewis feather fascinator malarkey going on my head! (I would quite like to channel some sort of bird or animal a la Carrie Bradshaw FYI).
However, over the past few weeks I found that this need to wear a huuuuugGGGEeee hat (although still there) has become secondary to sporting a rather fabulous and awe-inspiring hairstyle. A vintage homage to Katherine Hepburn if you will. Picture a thick glossy mane coiled into a croissant shape that boggles the mind with its sheer defiance of the laws of physics! The hat while still important, would not fight for attention with the bouffant, but would compliment it by perching on top perfectly. Of course a trip to the hairdressers will be necessary, but that's OK because it signifies that I truly am a grown up. (I remember when I was a child and attended weddings with my mother, that on the morning of such an occasion the 'ladies' went to the hairdressers had their hair pinned up while I busied myself smoking candy cigarettes)
And then this morning I read this. And it suddenly occurred to me where this hairstyle that I envision so vividly, that has slowly come to fruition in my mind over the past few months, had unconsciously been sparked from. The Polygamic cult in America! GAH!
Unsurprisingly, this is not how I see my life going (who wants to dress in polyester and have only one tenth of a husband?). So it has come to pass that the hat will after all be victorious over the hair (which will be left au naturelle). This however, brings up a very different problem that has nothing to do with God. Where does one find a beautiful hat that every high-street department store hasn't done a knocked off version of? Ebay is the obvious choice, but frustrated after hours of trawling their site and being outbid at the last minute *shakes fist* has lead me to decide that I want to splash out and treat myself.
So, after spending far to many work hours on the internet clicking endlessly on links and looking at some horrendous eyesores, I finally hit gold. Rachel Trevor Morgan has an amazing selection of hats, fascinators and hairpieces that suit all ages and styles. Young, old, conservative, exhibitionist... We are all catered for! And while this is not what I envisioned wearing to my friends wedding, I am particularly fond of this black number that is reminiscent of Dior's New Look. Because if I can't have the hair of that era without looking like a bible-bashing cult member at least I can have the hat.
Both hats shown are from Rachel Trevor Morgan.