Talking of weddings (well, a lot of people seem to be) I just love hats. I'm not a dressy person; I spend most of my life in jeans. But hats - they're different. There's something splendid about hats, but all too few occasions upon which I can wear one.
Here in Devizes we have a magnificent hat-hire shop. Inside this charming, low-beamed building there is an entire rainbow of hats; big, small, fluffy, flowery - you name it, Joan has got it. You bring in your outfit, and she finds you the hat. And she's alway right. Having found the hat, she will attach little bit of things - feathers and other fripperies - to match, say, your shoes.
But sadly, apart from a niece's wedding next year (that will be a big hat day), there will be no other occasion in the forseeable future for me to visit Joan and her hats. The only other hat occasion I can think of is a royal garden party, and I would really hate to go to one of those (if anyone royal is reading this, please don't take offence; just invite someone else instead). The idea of having to dress up and trawl into London to have posh tea with hundreds (or is it thousands?) of strangers fills me with horror. That, and the fact that the hat would probably get squashed on the train (well, you can't wear a big hat on a train, can you? There's hardly room for the passengers, without hats).
Never mind. Just remember; if you are in the South West, and need a hat, Joan's your woman. Oh, and please can I come with you to help choose it?