Who Wants to be a Millinaire?

While I was at Claregalway Garden Festival with my friend, the New Yorker, we did - eventually - feel that we ought to see what was on offer inside the buildings around the old Tower House.
You can't just think about plants. Well, we can, but on this occasion, we didn't.
And if we hadn't gone in, we'd never have found the hat ladies.

I love hats. I always wore hats to weddings, when we were young and went to lots of weddings, and these days, I generally garden in a hat. (Not my wedding hats, obviously.)
And not these hats. They would have to be reserved strictly for garden visiting, or garden partying, not garden weeding.

They were a treat to behold.
And vastly elegant.

So beautiful

Every single hat had a sense of occasion about it, the sort of hats that just make you feel absolutely at your best, the moment you put it on.
I instantly wanted a glass of champagne in one hand, and someone thrilling to talk to.
Luckily, I had the New Yorker with me.
She is very thrilling.

Hats with a sense of occasion

We stopped and chatted to the milliners for quite a while.
What an amazing, creative, talented and sparky duo! And what craftsmanship.

Beautiful, and beautifully made

You know the old saying: 'If you want to get ahead, get a hat!' Well they've certainly got the hats, so watch out Philip Treacy, is all I can say. (And interestingly, he comes from Co Galway as well.)
These ladies are going places, so if you want to be able to say: 'I wore one of their hats long before the Duchess of Cambridge discovered them...' then get on the blower.

Confectionery for the head

I don't see how you could possibly regret it.
Weddings - Garden Parties - Leopardstown - the Curragh - Your kid's graduation - knock 'em dead with one of these smackers while you can still afford them!

Affordable glamour

The New Yorker bought two. One is for a wedding later in the summer, but knowing her, she'll probably wear them out and about in the Big Apple - quite possibly with an old pair of jeans.
I mean, look how good they are on top or plaits, for goodness sake!
She'll look fantastic.
She'll probably bump into Sarah Jessica Parker as she strolls nonchalantly through Greenwich Village.
Parker will drool and catch her arm.
'Where did you get that hat?' she'll hiss.
'My hat?' the New Yorker will say vaguely. 'Which one am I wearing today?'

She'll look fantastic

She'll innocently put her hand up to her head.

'Oh this one! Of course! I have this little Irish designer - no, not Philip...he's so passé this year, don't you think?'
I can picture the whole scene now.

 

So folks, you know what they say about she who snoozes...

Crevation Design, the hat ladies call themselves.

I have to say, the name doesn't grab me. It doesn't have the necessary sense of occasion. And it seems a waste not to have a bit of pazzazz.

Now, Majella Dalton - that's a name with pazzazz. That's a name to conjure with.

Watch out for it in Hello, ladies!

OK?

Majella Dalton

Millinery Designer

+353(0)86 834 7049

crevationdesign@gmail.com

The Mad Hatter's State of Mind

It's been a funny old Easter. One of those years when you are dimly aware that something is happening - elsewhere - but the festivities have passed over your head.

The In-Charge and I are largely recovered from our joint illness, but remain in a state of spineless exhaustion. The slightest exertion - sometimes even coming downstairs first thing in the morning - is enough to reduce me to a grease spot on the floor. He feels much the same, which is most unlike him.
What is it with this flu?

I have to say the weather doesn't help. The miraculous sunshine of two weeks ago is but the vestige of a memory, and we are back to rain and chilly inclemency.
Hello Ireland.


But all is not woe.

Easter - the moment for millinery genius. A wonderful bird's nest of a hat

The Mad Hatter's Parade at the Easter Market went off with a flourish, and cupcakes and little chocolate eggs were handed out with gay abandon.

Another winning hat. And definitely a winning smile!

Also, we have planted the two blossom trees where the elm once stood so tall and proud.
I'm convinced they have already grown three inches and will be in full flower by tomorrow morning.

And I have been happily curled up reading my friend's book, Goodbye Mr Smith, while eating a great deal of chocolate. It's an account of how she came to move here from Germany, and the wonderful friendship she struck up with the old man who was her neighbour until he died a few years ago. It is delightful, warm and vibrant and I can hear her voice in every sentence. I am enjoying it hugely.

Moreover, we have just returned from our favourite beach where the sun even shone for a brief and startling moment, and the dogs raced and chased and rolled in the sand in an ecstasy of happiness.

Rolling in unison. (As opposed to rolling in something horrible!) They've done it since they were puppies

Top Dog found a trophy which he carried to the end of the beach and then ate.

Top Dog likes seaweed

Alas, the silver beast is still sulking, and remains in lock-up, but my dear friend has once again donned her halo and angel's wings and flown to the rescue. Her little green car is parked in the yard and has declared itself ready and willing to convey us anywhere we choose to go - which has so far included the market on Saturday, a delightful supper party with its owner last night and the beach today.

Thank you friend.
Thank you, little green car.

The silver beast shall hear of your selfless reliability.
Perhaps it will think twice before giving up the ghost in future.
It could take one Mad Hatter's message to heart.

A hat apart

My friend's Dodo Hat bore this message on the back: 'Extinction is only a state of mind'