Susannah and I (also known as mutual hat-enablers) went to the antique fair on Sunday.  Out of the whole skating rink, this was the one item that needed to come home with me: a fantastical, freaky, yet totally-awesome pink feathered hat from the 60s - in pristine condition.

Over the last several years, I've thought from time to time about how, at least once in my life, I would like to have hair the colour of candy floss.  But... think of the maintenance; the commitment; the unprofessionalism.  And while I rarely go for novelty purchases - functionality is just too important to me - this seems like both a happy compromise, as well as instant mood enhancer. 

(The seller noted: "I was sure this would be bought by a drag queen."