This shop had never been for the faint of heart. It was for
the thrill seeker, the bargain hunter and the adventurer of fashion. Clothing
was displayed upon scores of racks proclaiming themselves to be organised,
although a raincoat may easily be found in the formal wear section, a pair of
shorts in the t-shirts area and the occasional evening dress masqueraded as an
accessory. Beyond that, they were organised roughly by size – were you a size
6, you could guarantee you might fit into something on the left hand side of
the rack, a size 22 might be on the right hand side, and everything else
somewhere in the middle, occasionally huddled together in small groups of
similar size as if herding for protection from marauding shoppers.
Louise was looking for a hat. It was to be a holiday hat –
something to shade her from the sun on the beach, the wind when walking around
and, in a worst case scenario, the rain. She had braved these rails many times
before and more commonly than not she had emerged triumphant and so she felt no
trepidation as she followed the shop worker’s directions to the area known only
as the hat rack.
She turned the final corner; laid out before her was a scene
of carnage. Elsewhere the shop had clear rules which they regularly attempted
to enforce upon the clothes. They had lost that fight here and a millinery war
was underway. Fascinators were strangling berets by means of beads on string,
trilbies had rammed themselves upon sunhats four times larger and any loose
knit hat had been impaled upon the rack with no concern or consideration for
the on-going well being of the other hats that were made witness to such
torture. Was it any wonder they were in revolt?
For Louise there was only one available maneuver. Mentally
rolling up her sleeve, she plunged in. She intended to focus on the sunhats and
only extract others if they would make a sunhat available, but as she reached
out her hand a delicate fluttering of feathers and ribbon brought a fascinator
to her attention. The battle had not yet harmed it, merely left it exhausted,
and the bright red feather sprouting from the black net and beading seemed to
cry out for rescue. She gently disentangled it, freeing two trilbies and a cap
in the process, and then placed it on her head as a triumphant warrior.
The eyes of her reflection flirted coquettishly with her
from beneath the net, but failed to convince her to purchase it. She placed it
tenderly on the left side of the racks, stacked the other three neatly on the
right, and returned to her search for the perfect holiday hat.
Releasing each hat from its bondage took time and, with each
success, she placed it tenderly upon her head and sought the opinion of the
lady in the mirror. By this method she tried on every available hat type –
beret, beanie, trilby, cap, fascinator and of course, sun hats.
It was as she reached for a particularly masculine trilby
that the hand reached past her face and snagged the most frivolous of the
available fascinators. A white and pink confection, with a full complement of
beads, sequins, net and feather, it seemed to be a warning against playing with
glue in a marabou factory. Her eyes captured, she followed the motion of the
hand as it carried the item past her face and up until it perched delicately
among black curls.
“That’s a good look for you” she informed the heavily
bearded behemoth stood beside her. He grinned and whether it was his twinkling
eye or the delicate pink feather bobbing alongside she didn’t know, but she was
immediately interested.
Plucking the trilby from the rack she placed it upon her own
head.
“This hat may make me look good,” he drawled in a gravelly
tone, “but you make that one look great.”
Louise was not the simpering type, but at that point she was
tempted to try it. Both parties having declared their interest, the courting
ritual began in earnest. He suggested she try the mother of the bride
monstrosity which had finally tunneled out from the bottom of the heap. Having
done so, she immediately condemned it to return and hopefully never again see
the light of day. After bonding over their mutual hatred of the worst of the
hats, she explained why she was there and they fell to discussing her holiday.
He seemed disappointed that she wouldn't be around for a few
weeks due to holiday preparations and restarting her life when she got back,
but managed to arrange a meeting on her first full weekend back. After chatting
for about ten minutes, he grabbed a wide brimmed straw affair with thee bright
floppy flowers attached to the ribbon encircling the head. Dropping it onto
her, he suggested she first purchase that one, then join him for coffee
downstairs. She agreed on condition they had cake. He countered that if they
had coffee and cake now, their next date would need to be cocktails and
dessert. She acquiesced and hurried to the counter to pay.
When she met him downstairs he had a bag in his hand too.
“I see you bought your fascinator!” She meant it as a joke
and was stunned when he nodded.
He reached for her and caught her by the hand; “It brought
me luck,” he said then bent down and touched his lips gently and swiftly to
hers.
