J'ai perdu mon chapeau dans le jardin

I lost my hat in the garden.
That is pretty much the extent of my French.

It's a nice idea, losing your hat in a garden - way better than losing your hat dans le subway or dans la poubelle. Though I come from a long line of hat-wearing folk (my father never leaves the house without his tam 'o shanter or his straw boater and my mother is a Helen Kaminski fanatic), I gave up on hats in 1994 after a series of deeply unfortunate photographs my dad took of me attempting Andie MacDowell in Four Weddings and Funeral. No. Just no.

I have two weddings coming up - one city and one country - and it would be fun to do something festive and interesting with my head, beyond my usual unicorn face paint and crimping iron. Though I have a feeling I'll end up wearing the same pink hair extensions and the same goddamn neon ankle socks goddammit, I've been searching for inspiration and ideas to steal.

While researching our trip to Mexico this fall, I came upon these fabulous pictures of a fetching Frida Kahlo wannabe. Look at her fabulous hair, bound with flowers and scarves a la Frida!



Look at her lovely clothes - so beautifully bohemian!



Not a hat in sight - and yet so stylish, so festive!

I love it. But perhaps I will leave the unibrow to Frida and her doppelgänger.


Images from foto decadent.