Search for perfect garden hat turns to study in self-realization

You see the strangest and most beautiful things in people’s gardens.

The other day I saw a woman standing at the corner of her garden, her hands clasping her cotton-skirted hips, her countenance – neither pleased nor perplexed – gazing upon a bed of sage. She seemed to personify of an interesting hybridization of Cecilia Thaxter and Emily Dickenson: standing amid the poppies and foxgloves with rather poetic, unassuming posture. Oh! Add Lawrence of Arabia to the mix.

What really caught my eye was her mint-colored, long-sleeved cotton shirt draped casually over her wide-brimmed straw hat as added protection from the sun. The extraordinary thing was that she looked incredibly beautiful. Casual, cool, comfortable. If I draped my shirt over my head while walking around the garden the neighbors would certainly question my sanity if they don’t already.

Anyway, I got to thinking that maybe, just maybe, the hat is what made the woman look so cool. If you just draped your shirt over your head as temporary shelter from the sun, you’d look sort of silly. But with a hat, it becomes an improvised spin on those huge hats Victorian ladies wore with voluminous amounts of chiffon anchoring the hat to the head by way of the lofty chin.

The image of this woman got me on a hat kick. Since I’m not a shopper at heart, I did what I always do when I get the overwhelming urge to buy something I don’t really need: I went online. My first hit was a site called Rosecare.com, which bills itself as “The place to find professional garden care products for the world’s favorite flower.” Roses are by no means my favorite flower, but I let that little detail escape while I clicked on the image of the only hat available.

“This creatively designed hat can be folded up like a fan to go into your pocketbook, beach bag or garden tool bag,” the description read. “The hat is so light and comfortable it comes with an elastic strap to hold it in place. The framework is constructed of durable bamboo and covered with beautiful floral prints on batik cotton.”

Argh! Bamboo! The word had me clicking furiously backward to the search page to find another site. The word is forbidden from my vocabulary as my battle with knotweed (also commonly called bamboo here in Maine) continues. I’m not wearing bamboo on my head! Cover it with artful batik if you like, but it’s bamboo just the same. Click back, back, back to a site less noxious.

Next, I spotted a sweet little brimmed hat on the Smith & Hawken Web site. “Raffia Crusher the leader exclaimed: Crushable. Packable. Foldable.” Yes! That sounds more my speed. A hat that can take a decent amount of abuse. A-hem. Excuse me. I mean wear. A decent amount of wear and tear.

“A cord in the crown modifies the fit, and a soft terry band keeps the brow feeling as cool as you look.”

Well, I by no means look cool in a hat, which is probably why I found myself on a virtual shopping spree rather than a real-life one. In fact, I look rather the opposite. Quite dweeby, you might say.

The woman in the photo looked absolutely darling with the cute little brim of her raffia hat rounding up primly revealing her perky, satisfied grin! To add to the perfection, her ever-tender, lily-white skin was protected from the ferocious intensity of unwanted insects with the $34 raffia crusher and a mosquito veil that slipped beautifully over the hat’s rim, and which, for a mere $4.99, sounds like it would be worth its weight in gold.

Next Internet hit: Ms. Miller Hats. Now we’re talking! This is the site obviously suited to the serious hat shopper. With hundreds of hats to choose from, the site offered many models perfect for the gardener. “The straw hat that meets all of your fun-in-the-sun needs with the style and look that is only available when you are wearing a Genuine Crushable Raffia Straw Hat,” the site proclaimed. See, these are essential items!

The wide-brim models called “Rose Garden,” “Martha’s Vineyard,” and “Iris” looked perfectly inviting. Shallower-brimmed choices called “Orchid” and “Lily” looked tempting, as well.

It went downhill from there. Ms. Miller lured me into her Stetson hat boutique and I started thinking that maybe a garden and what had become a rather mandatory garden hat wasn’t at all what I need. Maybe a horse and a big ranch out West were more my speed.

Maybe this virtual shopping spree was one of those life-turning events that was supposed to open my eyes to the me I was destined to be. The me who had been lying dormant like a seed waiting to germinate. The me who had been waiting for the perfect cue (like viewing a thumbnail image of a gawky hat on a computer screen) to emerge from one state of being to another. “That’s ridiculous, Diana,” you say. I said that to myself, turned the computer off and sat down with a cool glass of ice tea to regroup after the nearly life-changing experience of shopping for a hat.

Ah, well, I can safely and with satisfaction return to my old standby straw hat. Yes, I do actually already have an old straw hat. Not that I wear it. Elegant it is not. It had a sort of “Stetsonesque” flair to it, originally. But then I wore it out in the rain one day and the fibers became soaked. I kept yanking it down over my head and the little lumpy bumps on top lost their shape. I brought it in the house to dry out and our cat Harry (a kitten at the time) discovered it and pegged it as a nest for several days. He looked so cute curled up in it I couldn’t take it away. When Harry moved on to greener pastures (or comfier bedding grounds), the hat was hung in the shed and forgotten.

So, that’s what I need to do. Go find my old hat. Put it on my head. Look in the mirror. Assure myself that I do indeed look rather dorky with anything in the headdress family and endeavor to gracefully rely on sunscreen the rest of my life.

Diana George Chapin is the NEWS garden columnist. Send horticulture questions to Gardening Questions, RR1, Box 2120, Montville 04941, or e-mail them to dianagc@midcoast.com. Selected questions will be answered in future columns. Include name, address and telephone number.