Collections.

When I was a kid it was stamps. Then it was my cornflake collection. Then it was women. And eventually the women gave way to anecdotes. It seems, however, that constantly adding to my habit of collecting things continues to be a major component of my lifestyle choices. The latest addition is beanie hats.

You see, I went to Uttoxeter today for the third time in five days. (I don’t think I’ve ever visited Uttoxeter three times in five days before, but that isn’t the exciting bit. This is the exciting bit:)

I went into the new PDSA shop which I mentioned in a recent post, fully intending to buy something even if it was only a second hand shoelace. It wasn’t; it was a beanie hat (and a cable knit beanie hat to boot, at least that’s what it said on the label.)

My oldest beanie hat is a red one that my mother knitted for me over thirty years ago. She did so, as a mother would be wont to do, to help protect me from the possibly deleterious consequences of rambling o’er wintry moors and mountains during my days as a landscape photographer. But it isn’t terribly substantial, and so a few years ago I bought a commercially-made one in a rather fetching shade of black. Well, a chap can grow a little tired of black, especially since my winter walking coat (the expensive one from Mountain Warehouse) is also black and I’m often to be seen wearing black jeans. (If I could think of an amusing simile to attach to that fact, I would. But I can’t, so I won’t bother trying.) 

The upshot of all this rambling o’er beanie hats during my days as a blog scribbler is that I recently decided that I wanted another one which would be more substantial and not black. And the PDSA shop had one – new – for £4.99. As for the colour, you might call it taupe or you might not. You might prefer to call it tan with a hint of a greenish tinge. In any event, it’s a colour of sorts and not black. And it’s felt-lined. And it’s quite thick because it’s cable knit (or so it said on he label.) I consider the latter two facts to be reason enough to presume that it will be warm.

So there you have it: I am now the proud possessor of three beanie hats. Would you say that amounts to a collection? I would. I might even buy another one next week. Multi-coloured stripes, perhaps. I have a reason to live at last.

And do you know what I just realised? When you’re a loner living alone and hardly ever talking to anybody, your life becomes ever more replete with routines, and you elevate trivia to matters of great consequence. Must remember to add that to my CV when I arrive in the undiscovered country and attend my interview with the recording angel.