Spo-reflections on a top hat

One of (my) Life’s hopes is owning a top hat. Don’t ask me why; no one quite knows the reason. My dream came true when Someone (the dear!) got me one for my birthday in 2024. Happy Joy! The feast day of my nativity is in July, so I had to wait months to debut it last Christmas.

Last week I got it out of its box and it is ready to wear in public. Someone is Events Master viz. he makes all the arrangements for our outings to the theatre. Potential top hat shindigs are vast; there are no lack of ‘A Christmas Carol’ pageants to choose from, although last year I was mistaken for one of the ensemble. We go tomorrow to some sort of Dickens-based even at the Phoenix Art Museum (can you imagine?) so I will wear it there. Last Wednesday we attended The Drunken Shakespeare Company’s rendition of ‘A Christmas carol’ and I put the hat in The White Car but Someone showed up in The Red Car without transferring it, so I was bereft of hat, worse luck. If I had shown up avec chapeau (that means with hat) I probably would have been the target of the actors, so it was a blessing in disguise.

In order not to embarrass Someone I don’t wear my hat to Einstein Brothers or to the grocery store (although I want to). When I show up to the symphony Someone makes sure I remove it before curtain call lest folks sitting behind us cannot see and forget their Christmas charity and there are ructions.

All this top hat jollity is counteracted by the temperatures that still get into the 20C (60F) and the thing gets rawther hot. This was not something thems in London in winter had to worry about.

I could continue to accumulate ersatz-Victorian-gentleman attire with suit and shoes to match. I would hope to resemble Bob Cratchit but I would probably look more like Edvard VII, minus the cigar in the royal kisser. Oh the embarrassment.