Lulu and I: The Inside Story

(...or a week in the life of a Bailey Tomlin fascinator - see this post)





Some of you have been asking how Lulu stays on my head, so today I thought I’d let you take a peek at her intimate underside!

It’s basically just a sinamay-covered narrow band - which, fortuitously, is the same colour as my hair. It slips into place very easily and comfortably.

Lulu and I had a rather unglamorous morning, taking cardboard boxes to the recycling depot and running errands. But this afternoon I took my new companion to visit an old friend - in every sense of the word. Joan is 90 years old - and as vivacious and bright a 90 year old as you could ever hope to meet. She also happens to have a very impressive hat collection of her own and I knew she’d be thrilled to meet Lulu.

I wasn’t disappointed. She went into raptures about my lettuce-like chum. And I’m talking RAPTURES! Bolstered my confidence no end and gave me just the mid-project boost I needed. Thank you, Joan!

So…..the half-way point - Day 4. Here are my favourite comments so far:

• ‘You should be on the cover of Vogue!’ (Joan, of course!)


• ‘I hope you’re being well paid!’ (for blogging about this...)


• ‘I think it’s divine.’


• ‘You need to see a psychiatrist.’ (?)

And my favourite one of all:

• ‘It doesn’t look at all ridiculous. It looks like….well, YOU!’

Lulu and I: Inspired by a Lettuce

(...or a week in the life of a Bailey Tomlin fascinator - see this post)





No, I haven’t grown tall and willowy overnight. Nor has Lulu turned green. The picture on the left is of the original fascinator made by Bridget - the one that inspired Lulu‘s creation.

When I asked Bridget to tell me more about how Lulu came into being, this is what she said:

‘(Lulu) was inspired by a lettuce leaf for a collection I made about food…..I found the wiggly edge has so much more charm than a straight one and thought the idea could come out in other colours.

The piece is made from sinamay, a fabric made from banana fibre and used a lot in millinery. The fabric is dyed first and then draped and shaped and the edge is rolled.

It takes about a day-and-a-half to make a piece like that. Rolling the edges is one of my special millinery skills. It really knackers your hands but I love the effect and it’s worth it.’

So…..I’m walking around with a lettuce called Lulu on my head. Better not tell the farmer that!

Today‘s highlight:

Lulu received her first e-mail. J

Today’s reaction:

One mild compliment

Two diplomatic remarks (‘It’s different!’ and ‘It’s unusual!’)

Several oblivious looks

Not a single snarly dog in sight!

Photograph by Martin Urmson

Lulu and I: Go to Town

(...or a week in the life of a Bailey Tomlin fascinator - see this post)

I spotted this hat box in the window of a charity shop (goodwill store) this morning. I just had to get it for Lulu!

I’ll admit it. Yesterday I skulked a little. I was happy to stay at home with Lulu and see as few people as possible.

But today, I decided to take my courage in my hands - or rather to put my courage on my head - and venture into town (had no choice, really - the fridge was bare).

Now my nearest town is not the kind of place where one wears a fascinator. It’s neither the cosmopolitan sort of place where anything goes; nor a trendy place where a fascinator might be considered cool; nor even a quaint, old-fashioned kind of place where Lulu might be a charming anachronism; a throwback to an age when ladies wore fetching hats and gloves; paid visits and took tea.

No, it’s none of these. So I was a little daunted at the prospect of shopping there. Did I feel self-conscious with Lulu atop my locks? Definitely. Did I survive the experience? Yes!

Reaction today:

• Lulu was snarled at by another dog.


• Two ladies said I looked pretty (I think they were being polite).


• One lady went into genuine raptures over Lulu. Was totally taken by her. That cheered me no end. J


• But…most of the people I encountered today didn’t bat an eyelid. It was exceedingly odd. ‘Are they walking around with their eyes closed?’ I asked myself. ‘Do they think I look normal?!!!’

For the next instalment in this mysterious saga, check back tomorrow…

Lulu and I: The Clothing Question

(...or a week in the life of a Bailey Tomlin fascinator - see this post)

So what kind of clothes do you wear with a fantastic fascinator?

Well, unless you’re about to buy a whole new wardrobe (tempting, but no), you wear what you’ve got. Which, in my case, is mostly dresses. This morning I decided to throw myself an extra challenge and attempt to come up with a different outfit for each day of the experiment. My theory was that this would test Lulu’s versatility. But given that I have…ahem…rather a lot of dresses, concocting seven outfits proved to be no great trial. And, yes - I’ll admit this probably says more about the extensiveness of my wardrobe than about the hat’s adaptability!

So, the clothing question answered, Lulu and I embarked on Day 1. Which was a fairly typical Dixon Hill day.

It began by letting the hens out. In a muddy field. In my wellies. Then progressed to trudging across a moor in said wellies. With a dog. Then resolved into long hermit hours at my desk. With a cat. If Lulu felt the day was a little beneath her flamboyant fabulousness, she didn’t complain.

Today I discovered:

• Lulu is tall. I found this out each time I climbed into the car or walked under the pergola!


• Lulu is extremely comfortable to wear. At my desk, I kept forgetting she was there. I even tried to pull her down over my eyes, thinking it was my glasses perched up there.


• Lulu can withstand a stiff breeze very well.

Reaction today:

• Lulu was snarled at by a dog.


• Lots more bees than usual buzzed around me as I tramped the moor.


• A local farmer (the first person I encountered today) yelled the length of a very long field: ‘What have you got on your head?’ When I drew near enough for him to see exactly what I had on my head, he swore. Robustly. And with a look of utter disgust on his face. L

But we’re not daunted yet. Check back tomorrow for Day 2.

P.S. Today I'm taking part in Mosaic Monday, hosted by Mary at Little Red House.  Why not pop on over and take a look at some of the other lovely mosaics you'll find links to there?

Lulu and I: How It All Began

(...or a week in the life of a Bailey Tomlin fascinator)





It seemed a good idea at the time.

I was at the Country Living Spring Fair in London. Standing in front of a mirror on the Bailey Tomlin stand, I wondered out loud just when a girl could possibly wear the fabulous fascinator that crowned my head. A wedding, yes. Ascot, most certainly. But when else would you ever wear something so fantastic?

Bridget Bailey (top flight milliner, keeper of hens and thoroughly lovely lady) replied that, if you feel comfortable in a fascinator, you should just wear it - whenever you want to.  People will become used to it.

That argument struck a chord with me. I used to wear hats - quite extravagant hats - on a daily basis. I acted on the very principle Bridget was expounding. And it worked. People quickly became accustomed to my outlandish headgear. To the point where they were disappointed if they found me bare-headed. I even earned myself the nickname, Helen Hat.

So then someone floated the idea of wearing the fascinator in daily life and writing about the experience. ‘Aha! Helen already writes a blog!’ my friend exclaimed.

And so an experiment was born. This week - for an entire seven days, from getting-up until going to bed - I shall wear one of Bridget’s most stunning creations. The extraordinary flower in the picture above is not some previously undiscovered species of exotic Pennine flora. It’s Lulu - for so I’ve christened my new companion. Fascinator is, to my way of thinking, a rather clumsy word; and I figured Lulu would be a simpler and more intimate way to describe my lovely apparel throughout a week’s worth of blogging.

When, this afternoon, my husband found me photographing Lulu and I explained to him what I was proposing, he reminded me that we’re in the throes of a general election campaign. And intimated that he will be dealing with weighty and important matters at work this week. All of which means, I presume, that he thinks I should be taxing my head (and spending my time) with more serious subjects. Instead of prancing through the hellebores with a fascinator called Lulu.

I hold my hands up. I have no excuse. If you want sombre electoral discussion, dear reader, you must go elsewhere. This week I succumb to the frivolous.

But, if a shot of frivolity is what you need, check in on Lulu and I each day this week. And we’ll oblige.