The Experiences of being a Hat Lady

The more we wear our hats, the more we realize the magic they can do...for us and for others.  Here are the stories of just one Hat Lady the week leading up to Easter and Easter weekend.  She is also the Director of Activities at a Sandpiper Convalescent Home, where we were invited for the second year:

"The Hat Ladies of Charleston arrived with smiles, hats, and mirrors.  But most importantly, they rekindled lost memories of romantic days of feminine gentility.   The ladies of the home  prepared for this visit for ten days by decorating their hats; some had to try on their hats after placing each flower--proof that vanity lives forever.

Their coming also touched our male residents.  One gentleman practiced "Easter Parade" for a week in his room.  He then allowed us to move his organ from his bedroom to the dining room.  He played (with his hat on) for thirty minutes before The Hat Ladies arrived.  Significantly he is one who usually stays to himself in his room. 

Their presence encouraged some residents to dance and sing. They stimulated conversation amongst residents who once lived in New York and witnessed the original Easter Parade. The next day brought more reminiscing.  The organist said how much fun he had; another gentleman made an announcement about the lovely day they all had.  One of the ladies showed off the hat graciously given to her by one of The Hat Ladies.

And now onto The Promenade.  I had fallen in love with my hat for the occasion, but I had no idea how good it would make me feel. I have very little time for myself, caring for an ailing Mother (who lives a good distance away), raising three children, and meeting the demands at work.. 

And so, on Saturday morning, I reached for a dress that would fit the hat and be comfortable.  I put on my walking shoes, opted against coffee, and drove off.  I parked my car. Within 200 yards I ran into my first set of tourists. They had read about The Promenade that morning in the paper.  The next notable tourists I met were a Mother and daughter from two different cities, who decided to meet in Charleston because they read about The Promenade over the internet.  They even took my picture. My self-esteem skyrocketed.

Still feeling good, I decided to call my Aunt on Easter Sunday to ask her to send me my Grandmother's old hats--if she could find them.  She was thrilled.  That particular side of the family and I have been distant both emotionally and geographically. Hats provided the bridge to place the call.

The lives touched by a simple hat placed simply upon a not-so-simple head is simply marvelous!

What It Means