An ode to ye olde haberdasher

The Royal Wedding was the big thing last week.  You all know that unless you’ve been living in a vacuum.  The Sisters were completely sold on the idea.  Ava and her son even got up at the ungodly hour of 4am to watch.  I watched a replay while the kids and I got ready for work and school.  All of us agreed that Kate looked lovely in her dress, even if she did have on more makeup than necessary.  Her gown was dreamy and such a departure from Diana’s frothy nightmare.  William and Harry looked very handsome in their uniforms.  I thought the Queen looked like a tub of margarine in her head to toe yellow, and I still find Prince Charles and Camilla leave a nasty taste in my mouth.

But none of that was my favorite thing about watching the wedding.  Neither were the kisses on the balcony or their sweet ride in Will’s convertible.

By far, my favorite thing, and indeed it may rank up there in my list of all time favorite English things right there with Irish accents, David Beckham, Jane Austen, rolling green hills and sheep, is hats.  HATS!  Holy mother of God was there some outstanding head gear at that wedding.  I really wanna start wearing hats.

Let’s take a look, shall we.

This is my favorite by far.  It’s completely and totally insane – but fun, which is what I understand Beatrice is full of.  When I imagine wearing this hat, I see myself batting at imaginary bugs or dodging from imaginary birds because the shadows would fall on your face all day.  I’d forget I was wearing a hat and I’d give myself a black eye. 

This next one makes me worry that if there was a strong wind, she’d break her neck. And black, really?  It seems a bit dour for a royal spring wedding.

This one is especially delightful because she’s matched the feathers with her hair so you can’t be 100% sure where her hair ends and the insanity begins.  I love this.  Here in the US if you’re having a bad hair day, you don a boring old baseball cap.  Not in jolly old England apparently.  The Brits celebrate the bad hair by marrying it up with a chicken.

I love the way this lady is throwing a look over her shoulder that seems to say, “I know,  Crazy right?”  This hat is a good example of another odd thing about hats over there.  They all seem to sit on one side of the head or the other. At some point, don’t these ladies feel their necks tilting to the opposite side in order to compensate?  I worry about this.  Do you suppose it’s a conspiracy with the millinars and the chiropractors of Great Britan?

This one is the worst.  I don’t even find anything funny about it.  This is atrocious – blue on blue on blue on blue.  And she has a canoe on her head.  **shudder**

This final hat I totally want to own.  It’s crazy and big and red and flowery and fabulous.  Now this net crap she has wound all over herself, I don’t know about.  That just looks stupid.