It is difficult to admit to a hoarding addiction. I have seen the interventions. No, no, I am not ready for television. Airing my particular hoarding addiction is premature.
I prefer to call this “My Collection”.
Hats. There! I said it! I love hats from any era, any style. It has been a life-long addiction, but dang it! I cannot help myself.
The letter H has been, is now, and forever will be for HATS.
Below are photos from family events or whatever.
|Easter 1959--Mom in the back, Me in middle row, and then my little brother and sister in front|
|Great great grandfather, pre-Civil War|
|A very stylish woman in her college dress suit, fresh from a reunion|
|Left in Sunshine in a 1930s felt fedora; right is Bright Eyes in my new hat|
|My son-in-law wearing a black velvet 1960s hat, my daughter in a navy felt|
|Me in a 1950s veiled hat; my husband in an honest-to-goodness leopard skin pill box hat from 1940s|