At this point, failure should be no surprise to me. Nevertheless, I am often shocked by my own missteps, feeling particularly disappointed when said failure results from a supposed area of personal expertise (e.g. crazy homemade hats). Disappointment abounds in Mr. Tiny's Workshop...
Intent on showing off my wacky tacky Tree Toppers to the family, I paraded them through the living room before the hot glue was even dry. So busy humming "Pomp and Circumstance," I completely misjudged the time it would take to finish the song before explaining my creations. I had barely uttered the last "duh-dum" when Mary pounced. Practically wrenching it from my hands, she perched the snow angel atop her head and covetously inquired if it was to be her Christmas hat.
Why hadn't I thought of that?!!
Really, why?!! I mean, I have long held the reputation for turning just about anything into a hat - candy containers, placemats, fruit baskets, paper plates, panty hose and whiffle balls, etc. If I hadn't thought of transforming my dollar-store delights into headpieces then I was fairly certain that my imagination was broken. I had failed the holiday. I had failed myself. The only way to rectify the situation was to make some holiday headware that would sustain Mary throughout a season's worth of parties. This year, instead of a Christmas dress, Mary would get a Christmas head-dress - with one caveat; I told her that if I made the hat, she had to wear it to at least one holiday party.
As I had used the baby doll head for the snow angel, all I had were the face and hands of a sweet, bespectacled old lady (but enough about me). Using them, I carefully began transforming the flotsam and jetsam of the craft stash into the merriest of Christmas widows, Mrs. Santa.
As the hat grew in size and scope, it occurred to me that maybe this might be a bet that even I didn't have the nerve to enforce. But Mary called my bluff. Not only did she wear the Mrs. Santa hat to a party - she kind of rocked it.
|In a bizarre, crazy Christmas way it works, right?|
And when it is not in commission as a hat, it can
be employed as a super-festive toilet paper cozy!
Mary also upped the ante of the bet; at the very last minute (as we were on our way out the door), she dared me to wear a crazy party hat. With negative time on my hands and no hat, I grabbed a tinsel tree decoration from the side table, quickly wiring on some ornaments and a bit of elastic to make an "aluminum" christmas tree hat.
|Leave it to these two weirdos to show up at a fancy, grown-up |
holiday party wearing homemade garbage on their heads.
The strange part is that the hats were actually a hit! As it turns out, having a Christmas tree sitting on your head is quite the ice-breaker; all evening long conversations began by acknowledging the celephant in the room...and the hat on his head.
|"Um...my eyes are down here."|
|Even Sage, our host for the evening, approved of the ceiling-scraping millinery.|
We're sending a plaster repairman next week.
To balance the sky-high spectacle on her head, Mary wore all vintage - a black '40s dress in rayon crepe, costume jewelry, and a '40s fur jacket. In spite of the ebullient holiday cheer inherent in Mrs. Santa, the outfit read as a wartime femme fatale in an unlikely and depressing yuletide movie (see: Christmas Holiday). And so we say to you...
|"Merry Christmas and A Happy Noir Year...'Always!'"|
"Always" - Deanna Durbin in Christmas Holiday (1944)