Show of hands, please. Who's going to watch the royal wedding next week live starting in the middle of the night our time? I thought so. Any certifiably sane person will be sound asleep.
News flash, folks! Said royal wedding will be repeated ad nauseam on any number of channels as well as on-line. Unless you're actually British, I don't see the point of losing sleep over the nuptials.
Now if you want to make a pajama party out of it, that's different. Gather your girlfriends -- your male friends probably aren't interested unless the bridesmaids are naked. Brew a pot of tea. Warm a few scones. And, most importantly, don the wildest hat you can find.
What is it with the Brits and those hats? Apparently size does matter. The wider the brim the better the hat. What's the protocol when one large hat meets another? Does the larger hat lean to the right or the left? One needs to know these things before delivering an air kiss. Perhaps British girls learn these points of etiquette in school, while we Yanks -- definitely not into the large hat scene --ponder over which fork to use.
Hats perched on the side of the head are particularly interesting. They look like the work of a crazed origami master who was let loose with yards of fabric. Since they appear to defy gravity I wonder what holds them on?
My grandmother used hat pins so large they could pop the Hindenburg. Are they the key? Giant bobby pins -- jeez, does anyone under a certain age know what a bobby pin is? Maybe they're lined with a special adhesive -- kind of like a chapeau post-it, guaranteed not to give you hat-hair.
I'm thankful I wasn't invited to the royal wedding, Too much hat anxiety.
No comments:
Post a Comment