Hat Lessons

Fall has arrived in Paris in a new way this week. The markets have traded tomatoes and reine claude plums for mushrooms and nuts. Oyster season has arrived and I am constantly tempted by the many varieties of oysters, mussels and scallops that all seem to beg a place at my table.

Fall has always been my favorite season and even without the stunning leaves of home, I am relishing this time before winter. As the nights get longer and the days are tempered by clouds and chill, I find myself settling into a more subdued rhythm, which feels right.

I have traded Halloween plans for Beaujolais Nouveau release night plans and have traded fall fest for plans for a small Thanksgiving dinner with Josh, Matt Carty and perhaps a French couple. I notice now that the street lights don’t turn off until after 8AM and I wonder how much darker it will continue to get.

The temperatures have also dropped here. Paris continues to be significantly chillier than D.C. and the temperatures are now chilly enough to justify a second look at all of the fabulous hats and scarves that the French have elevated to a national treasure.

In the last few weeks, I’ve found myself deciding on two hats. Josh thinks my new black and red hat makes me look like a Muppet or a member of 80s group Devo and he might be right, but I will admit to feeling happily carefree whenever I wear it.

I will also admit, however, that sometimes I worry that Josh and I are just diving off the fashion deep end and that we might return just a bit too weird, even for Adams Morgan. I suppose at least we had the good sense to find each other and not inflict our obvious fashion handicap on a spouse who couldn’t appreciate the artistic, if odd, flare to many of our “pieces” and maybe for at least a while we can claim [in a self-important tone], “Well, it worked in Paris.”

My other hat is a bit more subdued and I found it at the local Monoprix. As I tried it on, I had a French interaction that left me smiling and perhaps a bit more fashionable. I suppose if I had any true fashion sense, I might have been alarmed or insulted, but I was mostly grateful.

I was busy in the accessories aisle making sure my chosen hat would fit on my head, when another customer took a personal interest in my situation. I didn’t ask for her help, but she was clearly very concerned that I was not going to wear the hat correctly. I guess I seemed desperate enough or at least open enough to fashion advice that she then provided an on-the-spot hat tutorial in French on hat wearing. It was a bit rough going at times and she had to repeat a few things several times. She even went as far to place the hat on my head when I wasn’t quite understanding the words she was using. What I do know (after the several times she placed the hat on my head) is that wearing the hat tilted slightly to the right makes it “plus feminine” or “more feminine”.

I suppose I missed my chance to have some scarf help. Maybe next week, I’ll stumble through the scarf aisle and another French woman will take pity (or take charge) of my scarf wearing. But for now, I'm grateful that a kind French woman saved me from myself (at least partially) and even if I never wear hats exactly right, that the little hat lesson reminded me of how welcoming the French are, even to a cheerful American Fashion accident.

Happy Halloween and Happy Fall!

sPg