I trust that by now I've raised your level of expectation regarding the photography aspect of this blog to that of greatest awfulticity. And so, in my sincere desire never to disappoint, here is my latest installment.
But listen, for real. As bad as that looks, it turned out to be one of my best attempts ever, ensemble-wise. I left the house with confidence and zeal because that is the baddest hat on the planet. But also because I'd driven ten hours to obtain the hat, there was a certain joy in having finally figured out what to do with it.
See, there's this event that happens twice a year in Gay, Georgia, that my mom, my sister, and I have been attending regularly since it started back in 1973. The Cotton Pickin' Fair is like etsy, only live, and way better because it smells like farmland and biscuits and there's square dancin' and fiddlin' and cotton candy and an atmosphere that stirs what I know is my pioneer blood.
Before I moved to Florida, the fair was an hour-and-a-half away but now it's more like a five hour drive. I go as much to breathe in that air in the company of my family as for anything else; however, there's no denying the allure of the craftsmen. My rule is that purchases must be of things nowhere else to be found.
Here, I have to show you one of my favorites ~ an angel crafted from the bits of an old church salvaged somewhere in Alabama.
So anyhow, a couple of years ago, I stumbled across The Hat Peddler's wares, and across one hat in particular. In my genuine attempt to be a conscientious shopper, I left and came back to the hat several times but eventually left the fair without it. What resulted was a year-long pining away and search for its nonexistent replacement. Finally, I contacted the shop owner, described the hat, asked her to duplicate it, and made the ten hour round trip to obtain it (at the following fair.)
Did I already say it's the
baddest hat on the planet?
Anyhow, turns out the hat has stamina too because, whilst wearing it, the man and I excurded with both g'girls for what turned out to be a ten hour day. Whew.
And speaking of my man ~ because I love him and want to honor him ~ though most of all, I want to acknowledge his comments about my hat, this one's for him...
You're so vain,
You probably think this
is about you...