Who Is That Woman In the Chic Chapeau?

Posted by on Apr 22, 2010 in Blog Posts | 3 comments

Today’s post is filled with recent tales of life in a hat.

I am incognito to most people.  If I didn’t open my mouth, most people would wonder how they know this flitting bird wearing hats on her head swooping through grocery aisles to fill the fridge in her nest. 

They look.  I nod. 

They smile.  I smile back. 

They do a double take.  They ponder in a nano-second, “Who IS that under that hat brim smiling back at me?”

I could just end it at that, but I know they’ll eventually figure it out by the time they get to the cash register at Publix or Target, or to their table at Panera.  In so doing, they’ll realize that I knew all along who they were but chose to not speak to them.  How rude!

So, I end their capped conundrum and speak.  The voice of someone is a sure giveaway as to their identity, most times.

The mystery is solved.  They are relieved to know who I am and that they are not crazy.

I tell you this because I have come to realize that we humans  do indeed rely on someone’s locks as a serious point of recognition.  [Side note:  Our oldest dachshund was such a creature.  Once, I made the mistake of “going back to my natural color” in one appointment.  Upon arriving home, she growled at me to the point I was afraid she would lurch and bite.  I had to speak to help her realize I was her favorite person in the whole wide world.]  Without their hair, we just aren’t sure who people are when we have grown accustomed to them sporting sprouts from their heads.  Even those who are always sprout-less (aka bald) are recognizable to us.  (Insert shout out here to Robert’s roommate’s dad, Marty).

But, when we abruptly change our appearance, toss in a lack of being seen by some for awhile, then throw in a sighting…well, it can be unnerving to the poor soul who should recognize the one under the brim, but is at a loss.  Throw in my penchant for wanted to change my hat style and color from day to day, and boy, that is a sure recipe for confusion for the sight-er viewing the sight-ee (me).

Recently, I met a friend at Panera.  It was my first day in Columbus with a hat.  I noticed a dad of one of David’s friends and I spoke to him.  He looked confused.  I had called him by name, after all, and he knew not who I was.  He could not figure it out.  He stood in the middle of the restaurant as if he had forgotten what he was supposed to do next.  Because he was the first to see me and not recognize me, I was not really paying attention to why he paused so long.  Now I know.  Now I will be more helpful.  He waited for me to be doctoring my green tea (remember coffee is just not tasting that good right now) so he could approach my friend and ask her if I was with her, and if so, what was my name.  He was stumped to figure it out.  She told me all this later and said that she was a bit anxious about giving away my personal info to a stranger.  She didn’t know him.  She didn’t know I knew him.  She pondered if he was “interested” and felt the need to protect my marriage and my heart.  He, on the other hand, just needed to find out who the mysterious woman in the hat was who obviously knew him.  He came back and spoke and said he was so sorry about my cancer.  He was so kind. 

It was a scene from a comedy.  I got so tickled in her retelling from her point of view, that I almost washed her in green tea spittle.

Some who do know I’m donning a different daily hat each week are still taken aback when I run into them. 

So, I’ve decided that as news of my adopted fashion statement reaches fresh ears, more will be aware of the hats and in an effort to surprise everyone, I may just have to branch out into more “Delilahs” although I have a feeling that with the heat of summer coming, that would not be such a wonderful idea.  I’d hate to yank the thing off at a red light in hopes of cooling off.  Why, that could lead to a whole other post with tales of shocked expressions, my own included.


  1. Love your stories Amy. You make us laugh and
    remember similar stories in our past. It makes for interesting days. Keep posting!!

  2. Think about this….a topic of a later post….Upon your sporting a luxurious head of hair in the aftermath of chemo, and not a hat or Delilah, will people recognize you? Thank you for sharing your funny moments!

  3. I’m laughing, I’m crying. I presume you do both in this situation. I love you and your spirit so much. You are such a great example. Kimberly Wright wants to send you a bandana…if she doesn’t, you can get cute ones at Hobby Lobby. That has to be one of your getups. Praying for you daily. love, danielle

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