To Two Different Hats at a Christening

In the very top shelf of the wardrobe

I have several iconic handbags

from the seventies;

a soft lemon; a tan leather; embossed.

But have I a hat? I don’t know

if I kept a single one

from the days when hats were

the ‘in” thing. Though for nostalgia

and hoarding of memorabilia

I almost wish I had.


Looking back even further

Yep, year ‘fifty five’

a photograph with the in-laws.

Nan holds her cherished grand-daughter;

a child christening photo-op.

My dress has a seeping stain.

Need I tell you it was near (whisper)

her feeding time.


Oh, the hats.

Something like an upside down fruit

bowl with a wide sloping brim

makes Nan’s face look sterner

than stern. (Which she bloody well was.)

And being almost a recluse, it was most unusual

to have her accompany us that day.

Perhaps she felt a little less

revealed under that stern brim.


Yes, I too wore a hat;

a little shaped black; clapped close

over mid-skull and held in place

with a pearl tipped hat pin; minimal

for a hat even in those times.

Obviously I want

to show my curls,

so unusual for me.

(Like leaking milk, the curls;

another of the temporary changes

during child bearing years.)

But really I’m not a hat person.

Nan, I think, was.

I have few stories about hats.

But I’m about to raid the top wardrobe shelf

and check if I actually did keep the burgundy

robin hood with it’s small feather.


And talking of feathers,

I have a small fascinator

that I seek out from time to time.

I can hear Nan scoffing at that.

Benita H. Kape (c) 16.3.2022

A conversation about hats tonight. Thanks Mish. I got a little carried away when I started out thinking I could go nowhere with this. But that’s poetry. Meant to surprise us even as we write.