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Photograph courtesy of Cookie Curci-Wright
A Sultry Chapeau: Flashy feather hats highlighted the wardrobes of many fashion-conscious mothers of the 1940s.
Remember When
Remembering a honey of a hat
Trying on Mom's cherished chapeau made for a really sticky situation
By Cookie Curci-Wright
Over the years, Mom has diligently fulfilled her role as family matriarch, dispensing advice when needed and offering counsel when requested. Her motherly diplomacy, arbitrating skills and sound advice would leave most psychologists and political campaigners envious.
Through the years, Mom's vivid imagination and creativity have managed to keep three generations of Curci kids amused and entertained. her cooking skills would rival that of the world's greatest chefs (I'm a little prejudiced here). A hot bowl of her chicken soup has eased my aches and pains and cured my cold discomforts time and time again (more than I can say for most cold remedies).
There are endless heartfelt anecdotes and recollections of Mom that I could recall today, but on this Mother's Day, it's a more frivolous mom I'm remembering, a mom who was a slave to fashion in the 1940s, possessing an insatiable desire to wear the latest style trends. everything from platform shoes, Tabu perfume, padded shoulders, scarlet red lipstick, to bizarre feathered hats.
Mom's gaudy feathered headgear of the 1940s holds a special memory for me. As a little girl of six, I remember one hat in particular as the bane of my existence...
Standing before the mirror on a rainy afternoon, I posed in a countless array of Mom's high fashion hats. I can still recall her voice calling to me from the kitchen, reminding me that it was OK to play dress-up with her pretty hats, but NOT to touch her prettiest of hats, an exquisitely designed peacockish hat that featured an extraordinarily long pink feather. Whenever Mom wore this particular hat, I remember how Dad would tickle my funny bone by teasing her mercilessly: "Quick, Cookie," he'd say, "run get a net. There's a wild flamingo on the loose and it's landed on your mother's head!" But Mom was undaunted by the family's obvious lack of fashion sense; she knew that hat was hip.
Like most women of the 1940s, Mom rarely went anywhere without wearing her fashionable trademark hat.
Popular actresses such as Rita Hayworth, Joan Crawford and Rosalind Russell influenced Mom's choice of styles, as did the South American singing sensation, Carmen Miranda. Mom's favorite hat reflected the influence of South American charm and Hollywood pizzazz. Mom's fruity, feathered hat teased and intrigued me.
Her continuous warnings not to touch that awesome hat only served to arouse my natural curiosity. I longed to touch that exotic, fragile feather and pinch that mouth-watering fruit.
Then one day, my opportunity came. Mom was busy in her garden, and I couldn't resist temptation any longer. While munching on my favorite treat, a honey and banana sandwich, I dragged her vanity chair into the darkened closet. Standing on the chair, I managed to reach the pull-chain that dangled from the closet light. A moment later, the top shelf was illuminated. there, sitting in its box, in all its glory, was the hat. Quickly gulping down the remainder of my gooey honey sandwich, I reached up with both hands to grasp the gossamer feather.
I was horrified when the delicate pink feather clung to my hands like fresh cotton candy. The more I tried to free myself from its grip, the more the fluffy feather stuck to my sticky fingers. The harder I tried, the more the lovely feather disintegrated.
I quickly replaced the hat in its box, making sure the damaged feather faced the back of the closet. I hoped and prayed Mom wouldn't be wearing her prized possession anytime soon.
Day of Discovery?
A few weeks later, Mom and Dad were dressing for a special occasion. Mom was sure to wear her hat. I knew it would be only minutes before she reached for that special hat and discovered the mangled feather. I ran to my room and anxiously waited.
Suddenly, I heard Mom call out my name. I sat there frozen ... there was no way out now. Mom shouted again--this time with less patience. Slowly I walked in to her room. Too ashamed to look up at what was sure to be the tattered remains of her once-beautiful hat, I kept my eyes focused on the floor. A moment later, I heard Mom say, "What do you think of my pretty new hat, sweetie?"
I raised my eyes up to see a tiny, demure black pillbox hat sitting atop Mom's head. The subdued "little ditty" was a startling contrast to her other flamboyant hats, especially the feathered wonder.
"Your dad just bought it for me," Mom chirped with pride and delight. "Small hats are all the rage this year. Edith Head designed one just like it for Rosalind Russell," she gleamed.
A present from Mom
Gazing admiringly into her vanity mirror, mom declared her new hat was more beautiful and stylish than any that she owned. A moment later she said, "And now, Cookie, if you promise to take good care of it, you may have my old hat with the long pink feather. I know you've had your eye on it for playing dress-up. I'll have Daddy get it down for you from the back of my closet."
For what seemed like an eternity, I held my breath while Dad fumbled around in the closet. A minute later he reappeared, swiftly covering the ostentatious hat in its box, he handed me my prize with a wink.
"I never did like this silly-looking hat," he said as we walked out of the room. "That darned ol' feather tickled my nose every time your mother wore it! I guess buying your Mom a new hat did us both a favor. But next time, Cookie," Dad whispered, "remember to wash the honey off your fingers before playing with one of Mother's good hats!"
Things change?
Fifty years later, women rarely wear hats today, and designer running shoes are all the rage. Mom still has an exaggerated fashion sense, I still love banana and honey sandwiches, and, on occasion, I still can't resist sneaking into Mom's closet to borrow her splashy new Nikes.
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