In Your Easter Bonnet ...

Remember that old song? "In your Easter bonnet, with all the frills upon it ..."

Alas, somewhere during my lifetime the Easter bonnet went the way of the Easter parade and white gloves. In fact, Jackie O's pillbox is the last hat I recall seeing on a woman's head unless she was at the beach. Or happened to be Queen Elizabeth. Or an African-American church lady. Oh, those hats! Make me weep with envy, especially when I think of all the bare heads in my own church.

I used to have hats. I loved hats and occasions to wear them. I had a hat covered with pheasant feathers, a felt slouch that made me feel like Greta Garbo, a cloche of white roses. I wrapped them in tissue and put them in boxes to keep them clean. The time between removing the hats from the boxes became longer and longer and eventually the hats disappeared during a spell of intense closet cleaning.

I did wear hats during chemo. It got so I could spot a fellow sufferer a mile off by the hat on her head. No one else wore them.

This year, I noticed an advertisemment for hats in a store ad. Pretty hats with brims and flowers. Hmmm. Could hats be making a comeback? Did someone else besides me recognize the perfect diguise for a bad hair day, let alone a no-hair day?

Went to church Sunday and gasped. Someone wore a hat. A perky yellow straw hat that sang out "Spring!" An Easter bonnet.

I hope more women follow her example. A hat is necessary accessory, not just to disguise a bad hair day, but to make a statement. Choosing the right hat reflects who you are. A hat can lift not only your mood, but the spirits of those who see you. A hat makes you feel feminine and yes, let's use that old-fashioned word, ladylike. I can't see a young woman cussing like a sailor while wearing a frilly hat.

African-American women already know this. In our hearts, we know it, too.

I could seque from this to a metaphor on writing, but I'm not going to.

Sometimes a hat is just a hat.