My paternal grandma died in 2003, and a year or so ago this box came to me from my cousin Jackie. For those in the Carolinas, Lazarus was Ohio’s Ivey’s, the department store for more upscale clothing and furnishings. Even our smaller regional store in the mall had a fine restaurant, fancier than the counter at Woolworth’s.

The flagship store in Columbus had a Secret Santa Shoppe at Christmas so children could buy gifts for their parents. I remember going one year, entering through a child-sized door with my money, eager to buy a special gift for Mom and Dad, and possibly my sisters too. Inside, a personal shopper walked with me along tables of housewares, jewelry, and clothing–like scarves and socks while I picked out just the right gifts. Of course, I got to pay ‘all by myself!’ … with money Mom and Dad had given me. Elves wrapped the gifts so they’d be a surprise on Christmas morning.

Lazarus was also famous for its Christmas window displays. My Uncle Roy and Aunt Myrtle, who lived in Columbus, took us one year. It must’ve been one of the last years because when I asked my uncle to take us again a year or two later, the store no longer created the elaborate displays they once did. I was more than a little disappointed.

It wasn’t Christmas when I received this box, but it felt like it. I knew it was a hat box–who sees those these days? Inside was Grandma’s black/blue cloche, with the feather detail. Research tells me this style came into vogue in the early 1900s. The crown on this one has decorative folds, not simply a smooth rounded top. The folds add just a touch of character and elegance. Grandma would’ve been a young woman in the 1920s so the perfect age for her to be stylish. I couldn’t believe it was still in the original box. I don’t remember ever seeing Grandma wear it, but I can imagine.

I don’t remember hat boxes in my mom’s closet, though I do remember her wearing real hats on Easter. A red one stands out and I always thought she looked so pretty and dressed up when she wore it. What I remember most about Mom’s headwear, and those of my classmates’ moms, are the chiffon headscarves in various colors. Mom folded the square fabric into a triangle and knotted it under her chin. Both my grandmas wore them too; they still used hat pins with them, but Mom didn’t. At least not that I recall.

I rarely see women in ‘couture’ hats these days. Those that I do are the Black women on Sunday. Their hats are more than couture, they’re works of art with the shapes, colors, netting, flowers, and other decorations. The men are often in hats too, and those are just as eye-catching. I admit to a bit of hat envy and let them know I admire theirs. There’s often a look of pleasant surprise but also a look of pride and a ‘thank you.’

So of course I had to try on Grandma’s. I lifted it gingerly out of the box, not sure of its condition, even having been in the box.

 It fit.

I’ve worn the hat several times this winter. I feel different when I do. Not prettier or fancier, but maybe finished or polished? I know I stand a little straighter–and not just to keep it from falling off. It’s been interesting seeing people’s reaction–they pause, then smile, “Love your hat!” When I tell them it belonged to my grandma, that brings another smile. ‘That makes it true vintage!’ It’s not just women who take notice; men also remark on it. Even my son seemed pleasantly surprised when he saw me.

Yet, it’s more than simply acknowledging the hat. There’s a courtesy extended. Even in those brief exchanges, the connections and politeness are heightened. Had the men been wearing hats I wouldn’t have been surprised to see them tipping it. Age doesn’t matter; I’ve gotten the same reactions from a high school student seating Hubby and me for breakfast one morning. I know there are tons of studies on how clothing not only affects how we feel, but also how others react to us by what we’re wearing. I never realized those social cues were so sensitive that merely wearing a hat made a noticeable difference. Something for me to think about the next time I walk out the door.

With the cloche, Jackie also passed along two of Grandpa’s Stetsons; his name still written inside. Even though slightly too big, I wear them too.

But then, I guess I’ve always loved hats

On Saturday Hubby and I went to our local MLK parade. We were surprised there were so few people lined up to watch but glad we were among them. Some of those in the parade looked surprised to see two white people along the sidelines. It saddened me that 62 years after King’s, I Have a Dream speech, we were still an anomaly at a parade in his honor. But the smiles, enthusiastic waves, and ‘Thank you for coming out!’ from those in the cars were welcoming and matched Hubby’s and my smiles and waves from the sidewalk. Unexpected gifts for all of us. (Some of the women and men wore magnificent hats.)

We had snow Tuesday night–another unexpected gift! Not enough to make snow angels and it’s gone now, but it was enough to make that distinctive crunch when we walked on it yesterday morning. My Ohio heart would’ve liked several more inches of the beautiful stuff, but it’ll take what we got. I hope you’re staying warm as this frigid air continues to sweep through. I’ll be back on Monday with a new book to share.