A 50’s slogan …from the hat industry ..”If you want to get ahead get a hat “ . Well, after waiting a life time the prince became a king and finally got his hat in Westminster Abbey . A spectacle indeed , but which seemed to raise more questions on the monarchy’s future .
But, then again , I’m not a hat person , possessing very few. I suppose childhood was partly a driver for that . On entering my new school in Southport for the first time , half way through a new term, I arrived bedecked in orange and black stripped blazer complete with matching cap , the prescribed uniform . No need for me to wear hi-viz . The residents followed the local tradition of only wearing black . This new boy certainly stood out . The cap never saw the light of day again.
Working down sewers it was obligated to wear all the safety gear including harness and helmet. The harness was to help rescuers in manoeuvring a body up through the tight manhole ;fortunately an experience I never had to endure. On emerging from a Midland sewer, I found the safety helmet doubled as avoiding head wounds plus catching falling worms, one was hanging off my peak . Yuk !
But seriously , manholes and their access to confined spaces can be dangerous places . The construction of Carsington Reservoir in the Midlands, in 1983 involved the installation of toe drains and associated access manholes. Unbeknown and unforeseen , carbon dioxide had built up as a result of the interaction of water and limestone . A workman collapsed at the bottom ; three of his mates attempted a rescue , all perished ! This was a shock to all of us at Severn Trent Water. Henceforth all confined access had to be proceeded by lowering a gas monitor.
Twenty five years later and many mile further east , safety standards had degraded. A cultural gap obvious, South Asian workmen were not so valued . Construction of deep sewers in unstable ground can only be described as risky, despite all precautions . Perversely the actual construction passed off safely, the contractor managing the obvious risks well . Gas couldn’t be seen. It was entry into another manhole that proved fatal to the first entrant and his two rescuers . It was exasperating that, even after that , workmen would enter manholes without gas checks. I should’t have beed surprised . In India it was not unknown for employees to dive to unblock sewers.
Another continent , and a diametrically opposite approach to work place Safety. In Australia , strong sun and the hole in the ozone layer combined as a very real threat of skin cancer . You could sun bathe on Bondi beach , but turn up to work without both sun hat and sunglasses ; it was instant dismissal . The water industry is invariably outdoors, so we had our rather fetching company issued sun hats; although without corks! I left Aussie with my own kangaroo skin hat .
Tilley hats are designed as the ultimate in sun protection , and can even be quite stylish . Most are guaranteed for life; with the initial story that they would even replace one eaten by an elephant ; I assume the owner lived to file the claim . Now they are more circumspect in the terms of their guarantee. Walking in the Pyrenees, in summer, requires serious sun protection , and one that is firmly anchored in place given frequent mountain winds . A fellow walker introduced me to the benefits of Tilley . I duly ordered mine only to find that it had to be returned twice , with my request for an ever increasing size ; I have a long ( not big ! ) head . They returned their largest , with a note that it was also their biggest , and if not sufficient then I was on my own ! It successfully accompanies me on all mountain walks ; there are no elephants here , only the occasional bear . The hat and wearer goes on !
Age has reduced cranial coverage , thinning hair and Mediterranean sun requires that hat . Around town Tilley wearers would not be seen by self respecting partners . So I have my version of a Peaky Blinders hat , although without razor blades. A Ecuadorian holiday demanded something even more stylish , I couldn’t see “ our man in Havana “ in a cloth cap . The original Panama hat actually comes from Ecuador ; so in good tourist tradition , it was off to the factory . Good marketing ensured that the coffee shop was on the roof in full sun . I resisted the hats confined to a separate locked room , retailing at several thousand dollars ; but left nevertheless , with a jaunty step ; a true man about ( that ) town . I haven’t summoned up the pizzazz to wear it here.
I was woken in the middle of the night after that coronation by our rescue farm’s very own peacocks . They are truly very noisy birds , and clearly only belong in the biggest stately home with the acres to match . It must have been a passing fox who decided he needed his very own banquet. That got me thinking : did all those guests get fed , it didn’t feature in any of the ubiquitous press coverage. Then again what happened before the event . Some of the lesser congregation must have been in the seats for over five hours . There was no obvious coming and going ; and the Abbey must have had adequate facilities , many of the guests were not in their prime! I drifted off wondering whether all that pomp and ceremony was truly relevant in today’s world and particularly that of the current UK . After all he doesn’t get to wear that hat / crown very often, it returns to the Tower ; and by the way , Modi wants his diamonds back . Perhaps he has a vision of recreating former Indian grandeur.
Look no hat !..or anything else.
