I’ve been kicking myself since breakfast because I could have worn something truly magnificent for Hat Day, but both the timing and my memory ruined this perfect opportunity.

A Christmas or two ago I bought my brother a gift that cost too much to be politely acknowledged then put aside without trying out for a while, preferably whilst eating pigs in blankets with sage and onion stuffing. It was a two-tone leather helmet (maroon and brown if I remember rightly), with goggles securely attached by elastic. As if that’s not spectacular enough, there were two large horns proudly sticking out the top, as if the Devil had dressed up as Biggles for a party.

Believe it or not, a few occasions have presented themselves over the last year that warranted the wearing of this outrageous object, yet each time I forgot to borrow it. Today was the very reason it had been created by some deranged fashion designer, but it was also the day my brother left for three months of travelling around Thailand, New Zealand, Australia and various other countries that are nowhere near my house. He didn’t take the helmet with him, granted, but I have no idea where it’s stored, and he’s got too much on his plate right now without me ringing up and asking the location of the horned leather aviator headgear, as much as I’d love to hear his puzzled reaction.

So instead I sported a brown woolly winter model. Not quite as impactful I admit, but the tassels do make a good moustache.


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