Books are an essential part of Summer and to truly enjoy a sizzling summer read, one needs appropriate accessories.  Sadly, I recently lost my favorite summer hat. Actually, it’s likely somewhere in my house, hidden either by an evil poltergeist or a fashion conscious family member. Therefore, before properly enjoying the sizzling Summer season, a new hat was essential.

Truthfully, I have never had the best experience with hats.  I blame genetics. My grandmother  set her bonnet alight with a cigarette while my mother had a brief experience with a fascinator in the 1980s, strutting around the Vancouver streets with a feathery object perched on her Margaret Thatcher do—long before anyone in Vancouver had even heard of a fascinator.   Actually, we were largely ignorant about such headgear until Will and Kate’s wedding.

But back to my sizzling Summer. A suitable recplacement hat popped out at me during a recent shopping trip. It had a pleasantly neutral pattern, wide brim and would make me, I felt certain, resemble a 1950s movie star. Perfect. Moreover, I had recently embraced a pseudonym with Harlequin – Eleanor Webster – and I felt certain this elegant moniker would improve my hat karma.

Eleanor absolutely sounded like a hat person – a driving to Monte Carlo in a sports car with a flowing scarf and sunglasses sort of hat person?   I purchased the hat.

Back at home, I tried it on. I pirouetted and awaited the adulation due to someone with good hat Karma.

My oldest daughter raised those immaculate eyebrows, “You look like-:

My younger daughter wrinkled her nose, “You look like-“

My husband looked abstractly up from his IPAD, “You look like-“

Paddington!

Paddington? A.K.A. a small bear with sticky marmalade-covered paws!

So much for Eleanor and improved hat karma!

I snorted and removed the offending headgear. However I refused to relegate it to a back corner. After all, a summer sizzling read is all about the imagination; one is transported to opulent mansions ,  oceans and heather-covered hills. One’s activities are no longer confined to daily chores but revolve around espionage and adventure. One’s companions are not the familiar spouse or child but rakes and bad boy billionaires.

So, in the midst of such great imaginative feats turning oneself from a small Peruvian bear into a glamorous movie star is no great hurdle.

Not to mention the added storage benefit –  if I get hungry, I can always chow down on a marmalade sandwich.