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Hello.

I'm Jane McIntyre, a voiceover and writer, formerly an award-winning BBC radio newsreader and producer. My blog covers life, love and loss; travel, coffee and chocolate; with some heartfelt pieces in the mix about my late dad, who had dementia. Just a click away, I'm half of the team behind www.thetimeofourlives.net - two empty nesters who whizzed round the world in 57 days.

Showing posts with label Mother of the Bride. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mother of the Bride. Show all posts

Monday, 2 February 2015

Year of the Hat*



OK..so if I`d been listening to Al Stewart on January 1st I`d probably have written this then.

But it was a combination of a biting winter wind, and the song* (similar title, ok?) popping up on Shuffle that made me think about titfers.

As a mum, you spend your life juggling the `hats` you wear. You`re nurse, teacher, chauffeur, cleaner, entertainer...and sometimes law enforcer to your kids. That`s one busy hatstand.

And then suddenly...they grow up; get engaged, plan a wedding...and you realise you`re months away from being M.o.B. And M.o.B and H.A.T go together like a ...yeh..horse and carriage, or something ...but not really for someone who really doesn`t wear them much in real life. I mean--the bride herself can carry off a hat with aplomb. Mortar boards; that black fedora in Paris; they seem to suit her. But this is new territory for me. So even if I can escape the hat wearing on one side of the pond (it`s a UK-USA relationship- *so good, they`re marrying twice*...)..I might just have to bite the bullet and buy one.

So I`ll call Saturday in Ludlow a dummy run. It was bloody freezing, actually, strolling around town, and I knew that only a hat would fix me. I splashed out a fiver in the Oxfam charity shop for a little black number, donned it, and loved its cosiness. I even took lunch at a table outside Ludlow Cicchetti-- (I reckon it was minus three with the wind chill factor. In fact, the waitress offered me a rug and a few minutes later... a hot water bottle; but no; the hat was working.) (Second thoughts: maybe the hat made me look 89 or something? Sheesh).

Back home; the high shelves remind me of the smiles I`ve had rehoming my late father`s hats. Toppers, a trilby or two, flat caps; reminders of formal state occasions, days out shooting; days at the races. The place is full of them. Sadly--none of them suitable for the M.o.B unless they want me to do a Cabaret number as `the turn` (unlikely).

So...hat wise; this is one big year. In fact...I`ll need some kind of ski number for next week`s trip to see the M.o.H (chief bridesmaid) in Geneva, too, because we`re popping up to the mountains while I`m there. Before that, I`m in London for my cousin`s silver wedding blessing in church. (Hats to those: Does one?) Back home, I might keep my eye open for a big straw number, so I can dream of warm, relaxing summer days ahead. And then there`s the virtual hard hat everyone should keep handy, because, frankly, you never know what a year`s going to throw at you.

So that`s it then; 2015. The year of the hat. With apologies for its late launch. And no.....the one below isn`t the little brimmed number I bought in a charity shop; it`s me showing off on the Royal Yacht in Edinburgh last year. So how about you? Hat or no hat? Pics please...! @janemcintyre12 on Twitter if you`re brave enough.

Happy Monday! :)