“I hated the veils that, worn twisted into a squiggle under my chin, dotted my vision with large spots like symptoms of liver trouble,” one young lady of the early 1900s complained. “Our vast hats which took the wind like sails were painfully skewered to our head by huge ornamental hat pins, greatly to the peril of other people's eyes.” Fashionable hats reached their pinnacle of width circa 1910, when brims could measure some two yards around.

 

Leafing through an old steno pad the other day, I came across the above quote. I can’t remember where I first read it: a book on Hat History? If I were a journalist, I would have noted my source. One thing is clear — the quote is describing The Merry Widow, a hat popularized circa 1907 in the play of the same name by actress Lily Elsie.

 

 

The night of our wedding, my husband and I had reservations to stay in one of the Cheshire Inn’s themed suites before flying off for a honeymoon. These suites had been atrociously decorated in the 70s and were identified by plaques outside the door with titles like “The Camelot” and “The Raj.” We should have specified exactly which suite we wanted, because when we checked in, the front desk clerk was ready to stick us in “The Merry Widow.” What a rotten joke. There was no other room at the Inn but a stinky smoking room, which we took to avoid an unlucky start to our marriage.