In order to further this aim, we vonHedwigs have been acquiring and decorating hats as fast as our little paychecks and big imaginations can manage. We began with one ladies topper, on permanent loan from Becky, who got it for the purposes of looking like Marlena Dietrich for an evening. Which was an excellent notion, for now we can all look at this:
I decorated this hat with a scrap of black lace and some curly feathers (from a big box store, I am sorry to say, but the black chickens were not forthcoming during molting season, and object strongly to having their feathers forcibly removed), and now it looks like this:
Then Yuletide arrived, and my dear husband and I exchanged the gift of toppers. I decorated mine with a remarkable decorative metal ribbon that a very artistic friend had given me years ago, and that had been ornamenting the pianoforte until I realized I could wear it. Then I lashed together a long, gorgeous pheasant tail feather (a gift from a hunter of my acquaintance) with some chicken feathers (the Reds were much more generous during molt) and more of the crazy black curly ones to support it.
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For my navy ensemble, I purchased a hat blank at a millinery shop on Duke of Gloucester Street in Williamsburg, Virginia. It is very sturdy felt, and the cause of a) acquisition of millinery needles, and b) various holes in my fingers. I trimmed it with lace and ribbon, and a beautiful bow made for me by Annabelle.
To wear it, I first lift up much of my hair and augment it with a pad (what my mother called a rat’s nest) of hair pulled out of the family’s hairbrushes, saved up and shoved in the foot of an old stocking. Then I pin my own hair over it. At this point I look like a terrifying sixties country singer, only with ringlets. (No, you may not see a picture of this.) Then I (or sometimes a team of sturdy-fingered dressers) shove in as many hatpins as it takes, usually 3-4. As difficult as this dressing regimen may be, I am pleased with the effect.
Feathers improve just about anything!