Speaking of which, Clio managed to knock one of my hat boxes from off the linen cupboard this morning, reminding me of the fact that I hadn't worn any of my hats in ages. In The Netherlands, hats aren't really much of a ubiquitous fashion accessory, and since moving back here, I've sort of fallen out of the habit of wearing them. But thanks to my cat and her clumsiness, my outfit today, all caramels and chocolate browns, is topped off by my dark brown felt hat with fake fur trimming and and uneven rim pushed back from the front. I got it in Oxford years ago, when Anita took me round to all the best milliner's shops in town, and we ended up having tea in that swanky hotel, what's it called again? Oh yes, The Randolph, in Beaumont St.
I love millinery almost as much as I love handbags and footwear, and am willing to part with exorbitant amounts for a truly beautiful hat. I like them striking, although those that have survived as part of my wardrobe through the years are mostly of the classic variety...and oh no, I'm thinking bad thoughts again! 20 Days from now, I'll be in London...but I.Must.Not.Buy.Anything!
Oh God. I'm doomed.