Red Hats and Red Lights

I have it on good authority, though it hasn’t been confirmed, that the ladies of the Red Hat Society in a certain Nevada city chose to hold their meeting at a brothel last month. Though I have no details, I contemplate the implications with a secret grin and singular respect. It seems a fitting venue for a gathering of those committed to “greet middle age with verve, humor and élan.”

There is a delightful contrast to be seen between the must-be-over-fifty Red Hats and the employed ladies of the meeting’s venue. The qualification of the brothel’s staff I leave to you. As for the Red Hat Society….

Sue Ellen Cooper started the ball rolling with the spontaneous purchase of red hat in a thrift shop some years ago. Apparently, the hat remained in the closet until she read Jenny Joseph’s poem Warning. Sue Ellen dusted-off her hat and gave red hats and a copy of the poem to friends. They decided to have “tea” together in full regalia. Their numbers grew and spread throughout the country and the world.

Warning is a declaration of a woman who plans to let old age free her from inhibitions. The first stanza is….

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 flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.

The Red Hat Society attracts ladies over 50. Their primary rule is that there can be no rules. They wear red hats and purple dresses to their gatherings. They have but one purpose -- to have fun.
They gather in unlikely places….
They Take Fun Seriously