I watched a movie tonight with a southern setting, timeframe of the ‘60s. The women wore gloves and hats. One character was cleaning house in a nice dress and—are you ready for this—heels.
Now, I don’t know about you, but I don’t even wear shoes most of the time in my house. The only gloves I wear are Latex—when I clean the toilet. The only hats I wear are—well, okay, I don’t wear any.
But here’s a deep dark secret I’ve never shared with anyone before. You won’t repeat it, right?
I love hats. I’m not talking red hats. But an assortment works for me, big, little, fat, fluffy, feathers—well, maybe not feathers. I’m not exactly Carmen Miranda material (I’d rather eat my fruit than wear it), but I could go for a classy hat. It’s a shame no one wears them around here--unless we’re at a baseball game.
Just one time I’d like to go out for high tea and dress up with gloves, hats, the whole bit. I know you find that amazing coming from me. I mean, all I care about is chocolate, right? And well, we all know I can’t eat M&Ms with gloves on. Contrary to popular belief, they DO melt in your hands.
Still, it would be fun to dress up to the nines. Maybe even sport one of those snazzy purses like Kristin buys.
Am I the only one who secretly likes hats?