Red hats

There’s this group I never knew about before called the Red Hat Society.  When I took daughter Katie to Judy’s restaurant in New West, they were meeting. The only word that means anything is Resplendent (red hats, purple outfits!).  I have no idea who any of these women are, but they graciously agreed to allow me to photograph them.

I get to join in a year and a bit…. I have to wait until I’m 50.


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Born when atmospheric carbon was 316 PPM. Settled on MST country since 1997. Parent, grandparent.

3 thoughts on “Red hats”

  1. When we were cleaning out my mom’s place, it was full of Red Hat Society tchotchkes. She didn’t want any of it.
    I of course, threatened mayhem and destruction on any family member who would dare to give me any of it. There’s really no danger of that, since I’m the youngest.

  2. Not everyone is into tchotchkes. Stand firm, Kopper. The disease can be communicable, and it lurks unknown in odd corners, with its communicability aided by the fact that those having it often don’t know they have it, since the tchotchkes have a way of becoming invisible to the owner, or redefined as decor. Similarly, paradigms, which usually are invisible to their owners from the start.
    Example, please, of a Red Hat Society tchotchke? Aside, of course, from red hats. I’m curious.

  3. Aside from the Red Hat itself, she had dolls (yes, more than one), pictures and a watch, along with a number of things still in the gift bags from her 80th birthday. The watch was the only item that she used, it was one of those nurse-type watches which depended from a Red Hat Brooch. Unfortunately the watch broke off the brooch when I removed it to wash the jacket she had it pinned on.

    This kind of stuff:

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