Feeling bolder in your old age? The Red Hat Society might be just the
ticket for fun and companionship in your retirement years. The Society
bills itself as an international “disorganization” of middle-aged women who
live with gusto and wear – what else? — bright red hats.
The Red Hat Society started in July 2000 when Sue Ellen Cooper, of
Fullerton, California, sent a red hat and a copy of Jenny Joseph’s poem,
“Warning” to a friend for her birthday. The practice quickly snowballed and
a burgeoning circle of friends began gathering for tea dressed in red hats
and purple dresses.
Today Sue Ellen, the Society’s “Queen Mother,” organizes several conventions
a year for mass frivolity and publishes a quarterly mini-magazine of “Red
Hatter Matters” to the 256,000 members worldwide. The Society’s $35 yearly
membership fee covers the operating costs for the organization’s six staff
members.
Members younger than fifty are encouraged to join and wear pink hats and
lavender dresses until their fiftieth birthday Coronation when they are
crowned while being serenaded with kazoos and clappers.
Attire at conventions ranges from lady-like tea clothes and pajamas for
breakfast to formal wear for banquets. While red and purple dominate the
color scheme at each event, the only fashion rule is “gaudy is good.”
The Society is unique for offering a club whose activities are entirely
dependent on the whims of the members. No causes are professed and no
fund-raising is needed to sustain the grassroots spread of chapters. All
that the devoted Red Hatters seek is the chance to dress up, kick up their
heels and be more visible in an era that idealizes youth.
WarningBy Jenny Joseph
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people’s gardens…
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.