I am on a very British holiday, in a very British locale – the Isle of Wight. An island just off the south coast of Britain. Jimi Hendrix once played here and you can definitely pick up on the slightly un-British vibe. People walk around with deep tans, scanty outfits, fluid limbs… One could almost call them European, though that might be a step too far when Marmite’s still in the menu. And then, there’s this:
My father, who likes to embrace the thematic. By the sea? Wear a captain’s hat! ‘Is he being ironic,’ my middle sister whispered. ‘No, he just doesn’t care about dressing ridiculously,’ my little sister said. And so I finally understood where my aesthetic came from!
Oh, it’s easy for us to mock. Yet I quickly discovered that this seafaring accessory had multiple uses.
Dad’s hat made the perfect home for my jiggling ball of wool as I knitted. No longer would I have to scramble after the ball, as it ran across the floor. Result!
And then, and then, there was the growing curiosity. Could I, should I, would I … might a captain’s hat be worn at a jaunty angle? Dad might not be getting this back.
Ahoy there, Captain!