If there were any justice in the world, the hats I made at four would be in the Costume Institute at the Met. Sadly, after this, I abandoned my DIY approach to fashion
I would love to have picked something super cute: a sparkly tutu; an adorable pair of Mary Janes. Or something cool: an oversized denim jacket with the collar popped, perhaps.
But no. Here is an entirely unhinged photograph of me aged four wearing a homemade (obviously) hat – strong papal vibes unintentional – embellished with drawings of my teddy (name: Ted) and with actual Ted himself affixed to the hat. I am also wearing two anchoring hair slides because of the weight of this magnificent creation. This is a look that speaks to the boundless creativity of childhood, of making your own fun as the rest of the family snoozes in the late afternoon sun, in a time before the attention economy was monopolised by algorithms.
