Interview With A Hat
Who would have thought that a complex concept such as reincarnation could be considered alongside such a mundane object as a hat?
That is how Evelyn’s monologue, ‘Interview With A Hat’ starts; no straight forward opening statement here, but simply ‘Of course I believe in reincarnation, all hats do…..’ and so the reader is drawn into the insights of people, some rich, some famous, and some considerably less-so. All from the point of view of a hat.
And the hat itself refers to its own reincarnations, as a headscarf, a cap, an Easter bonnet etc., during its fifty or so lifetimes. We are given a perspective on headgear that perhaps most people have not considered, and perhaps points to us giving more thought to what our head coverings see and hear as we go about our daily lives. We might wonder too what our own headgear would say about our lives, should we have an opportunity to have that conversation with them.
And the hat is happy to share the high points and low points of its own life; from being the cap of a rather seedy ‘performance artist’ in the Victorian era, to being a headscarf on a head of Royalty, or a bonnet worn by Judy Garland on the film Easter Parade. Immediately, this hat has a personality and a life of its own. We want to know more!
We are left at the end with a bit of ‘hat philosophy’; the hat realises it is in danger of becoming indiscrete, and leaves us with the often used but seldom observed, ‘keep it under your hat’, although translated into a different wording from a hat’s perspective; ‘sit on it and keep your stitching buttoned’.
This monologue would have been written in the 2000’s, and has no doubt been performed in any of Evelyn’s many shows written for amateur dramatic groups or workshops, but there is no formal record of performances on the manuscript.
Simon Hood
Interview With A Hat; A Monologue by Evelyn Hood
Of course I believe in reincarnation- all hats do, because we’re constantly moving through the generations. How long does anyone- women in particular- keep a hat?
You headgear-wearers can stay in one life for at least fifty of my lifetimes and frankly, I can’t understand how you cope with the boredom. A hat’s life is much more interesting! We travel the world on the heads of people from ordinaries to crowned heads. And we see and hear so much more than you do.
I myself have been around long enough to have seen and heard many things from many people. I look on myself as a sophisticated, world-travelled hat, having survived through many generations. I’m regarded with a certain reverence in the headgear world.
No, I’ve never been a crown- that’s a privilege given to much older hats than I, though I have been on some famous heads. You may recall a film called ‘Easter Parade’; I was the Easter bonnet atop Judy Garland’s head. I found her to be a very pleasant and talented lady, although I can’t say that I enjoyed film work, the lights are very hot and we hats all had to fight the temptation to wilt.
My favourite hat? You’ll probably be surprised to hear that my happiest years were as a headscarf to the present queen. I was her companion during the more relaxed and personal side of her life, when we holidayed in one or other of her country homes, walking, through the gardens or on horseback through woodland with the wind teasingly trying to pull me off. Such good days for us both- a happy woman and her happy headscarf.
I don’t really care to talk about the lowest point of my existence, but since you insist….. it was for only one night during the Victorian years, but it was an extremely degrading episode. I was a cap at the time, on the head of an absolutely disgusting man who was- even speaking the word makes me shiver…. A male entertainer in one of these nasty old pubs that street folk drunk stout in.
He sang (very tunelessly, I might add) a song about being only an ordinary working man as anyone there could see, and during the song he kept taking his clothes off. I was the last item to go- and the most degraded! When there was nothing else left but me, and the drunken women in the audience were screaming their heads off, I was whipped from his head and then- the memory is still so strong! - used to cover something even worse than his greasy hair. Finally, thank heavens, I was tossed to the audience. Apparently this happened every night, so I only had to suffer the indignity once.
I was caught by one of the floozies who actually kissed my lining, then used me as a pillow all night. She wore me the next day until I managed to take advantage of a sudden gust of wind and flew into the air, free as a very soiled bird.
Was I worn by any other royals? I attended a society wedding recently as one of these fiddly little hats called ‘fascinators’, worn by Princess Beatrix. A bad choice on her part as she tends to be what John Brown called a ‘sonsy lassie’. She’s also somewhat energetic, and I had difficulty at times to stay on her head as she rushed around. I felt for all the world like one of those jockeys racing at Ascot. Yes, indeed, I’ve been there many times, and appeared frequently in the fashion pages.
Yes, the John Brown I mentioned was the one at Balmoral, servant to Queen Victoria. I was his Glengarry for many years, though most of my lives have been spent with ladies. John was a fascinating man; I can still recall him telling the Queen, ‘Aye, ye’re a right sonsy lassie- a bonny sight for any man’s eyes.’
He was good at making her giggle- she had a most attractive giggle. But that’s all I’m going to say about them. Any more tales and I would be guilty of breaking the Hat Rule. You’ve no doubt heard the saying, ‘Keep it under your hat’. That applies to hats as well as wearers, though we hats tend to say, ‘Sit on it and keep your stitching buttoned.’
Copyright Evelyn Hood