Daughters of the Revolution (DAR) Garden Hat Party Post # 21

It was early March after my first Mardi Gras. I wondered how life could possibly go on after weeks of celebrations. In my eight months of living in Mobile, this had certainly been the best. That’s because in New York during the winter, people are holed up inside for months, or they are shoveling snow. Here, we went to several parades a week, both day and night. We had also gone to four Mardi Gras balls. Our last ball before then was our high school prom. Balls in Syracuse are few and far between. Then my first Mardi Gras came to a screeching halt!

The lyrics to a song ran through my head: “Where are the clowns? Well, maybe next year!” ‘Uh oh’! I thought. ‘What now?’ But to my surprise, life in Mobile moved on without missing a beat. Mardi Gras was replaced with a whole new set of activities. A friend had invited Shanon and me to a DAR Garden Hat party held at the DAR house, a historical home in downtown that is furnished from that time period. The kitchen is stocked with fine china, silver and crystal for events such as this.

Recovering financially from divorce, constant trips to Panama City during Mom’s final months, and flying kids back and forth left me with no extra cash.  The thought of spending money on hats was overwhelming. I went through the house and found a hat that had been my grandmothers' for Shanon, and a Felt, Crocodile Dundee hat for me. I wrapped two black scarves around it until it looked like an authentic fancy hat. It was also had black sequins and fringe that hung across the front and sloped down to the right across my eyes. It would have to do. I just wanted to go to a garden party in the first week of March! In Upstate New York, they were snowed in but here I was on my way to a garden party!

     Shanon and I pulled up on the street that tunneled with Live Oaks, flowers and bushes in bloom all around us. We were greeted warmly by southern women who donned hats and took our names for a door prize, then directed us to the dining room and the garden patio where a one-man band played jazz music. In the dining room, the tables were covered with linen table clothes and lined with gourmet delicacies of all types, from seafood, to cheeses, pastries, and all kinds of homemade convections all laid out on china, silver and crystal. I had never seen such a beautiful set-up in my past life, particularly because china is not a big thing in the north.

     Before we ate, we decided to walk the grounds and headed to the garden where I still couldn’t believe it was March and I never had to go back to the cold again! We went back in to the dining room where many were already getting food, and I marveled at a world that, up until that year, had only been in my head. Yet it really did exist! People ate beautiful food, on fine china, in the warm month of March, wearing hats!

     What we didn’t know until then was that there would be a hat contest. Nearly everyone had stopped to marvel at my home-made-out-of-desperation hat and encourage me to be in the contest. Most said it would win. This was surprising since I nearly cancelled because of the anxiety of trying to pull it together, yet here I was and my hat truly was one of the cutest. I tried my best to dodge questions about where I got it, as many asked. After eating delicious food and tea on china, silver and crystal, the contest began and Shanon and I entered in different categories.

      To show our hats, we had to walk through the crowd and model them.  As I paraded around this very southern  party in my fancy hat that was nothing more than a scarf covering a man's hat, I felt that at any moment, someone would stand up, point their finger at me, squint their eyes and yell, “Wait a minute!! That's a man's hat!"   I was not used to parading myself around and felt extremely awkward. The southern women hammed it up by posing, smiling, and spinning around for each table. And then there was me; walking as stiff as a barn door in Upstate New York. I tried to smile, but felt the same self-consciousness that seemed so prevalent in Upstate New York - of stepping out of character. Yet as I looked around, I saw confident women who seized the opportunity to have fun, whether or not they would win. To them, it wasn’t about winning. It was about having fun while trying. I thought of the many times I didn’t try because of the misconception that, to not be the winner meant I was the loser, no matter how many others didn’t win either.

 The judges decided to go by the applause of the audience. The first time around, I received enough applause that it was questionable who the winner was and I tied with another lady who actually had a tea party on her hat. There had to be a tie breaker. My name was called first and by the applause, it seemed I had a pretty good chance.

When the other woman’s name was called, she raised her arms in the air, paraded around and goaded any table that was not cheering her on. The roar of the room grew louder as she goaded each group. She inevitably won. That was okay because I hadn’t even expected to be in a contest, and was still riding high on the fact that this homemade hat was even worthy to enter. But I couldn’t help thinking about what the other woman just taught me.

She wasn’t a showoff, or mean spirited, or conceited. She simply did what most southern women from Mobile to New Orleans are taught to do: Go out and give the world your best! She had done just that and the ‘world’ gave her back it's best. My barn-door stance and coat-hanger smile was enough to convince the audience that I was not worthy of the hat honor. I thought of the many years I was afraid to even introduce myself or say hello to people for fear of appearing presumptuous, rendering me vulnerable to rejection or attack. At that moment, I saw how life had handed me back exactly what I had put out.

While our hats were probably tied as far as whose was the best, she certainly outshined me, by miles, in personality, zeal and confidence. She modeled to me a part of myself that I longed to be but had never seen anyone else model it either. I realized that the only requirement is to give life my best and trust that that is enough! And that day, I made a plan. Next year, Shanon and I are finding the best hats ever and we are going to flaunt them! And furthermore, I will make darn sure that no daughter of mine grows up carrying herself like a barn door who slept with a coat hanger in her mouth!