In Oscar Wilde’s incomparable comedy, The Importance of Being Earnest, John Worthing’s prospective mother-in-law takes him to task for truthfully admitting that he has lost his parents.
“To lose one parent, Mr. Worthing, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”
Lady Bracknell would certainly apply the same ruthless judgment to my losing two Tilley hats in the space of 14 months–both losses confirming in her mind that society was about to break down and…
“…reminds one of the worst excesses of the French Revolution.”
It’s appropriate then, that my latest display of carelessness should have occurred in Paris.
When I realised three minutes after getting off the 69 bus at St Gervais Church in the Marais district on Saturday afternoon that I didn’t have my Tilley with me–and must have left it on the bus–I felt an urge to break down myself.
What made it doubly frustrating was that I knew exactly where the hat was. My seven-and-three-eighths broad-brimmed Tilley–faithful protector against the harmful ultra-violet rays of the sun–was still there on the seat where I’d been sitting. (I put it there to make the hard seat more comfortable.) But the bus was gone on its unstoppable way, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. 😩
My wretchedness was increased by the knowledge that this was not the first time it had happened–on a bus.
I left my first Tilley–purchased at the Grand Canyon and much-treasured as such–on a 24 London bus on my way to pick up my new passport.
The Tilley company was founded in Toronto in 1980 by Alex Tilley, a keen sailor, who wanted a “proper durable hat”, that would float, stay on the head, be unshrinkable and look attractive.
Their motto: Designed for Nature. Built for Life.
Durable they certainly are, and wherever my first two Tilley’s are now–I wish them and their new owners, well–though that may be a curse as they are no defence against Carelessness Compounded.
Footnotes:
Lost property at RATP (Paris public transport) told me NO hat like mine had been handed in.
Postman arrived today with a package–with the NEW Tilly hat in it.
Ordered online Monday–miracle of modern life–arrived two days later.
Meredith suggests I write my name and email address on the inside of the hat. Good Idea!
Brother Jack wants to open the betting on how soon I lose it.
I’m wondering what number bus it will be.
Robin Ellis 
Meredith is a wise woman. I’m glad the new hat arrived and hope it stays right where it belongs!
I can lose m Apple TV clicker 3 times in the course of an hour. I vow each time that I will leave it next to the Tv whenever I go to the kitchen.
At least you remembered where you lost them! you have that going for you!
If it makes you feel any better my ex partner, John, left his Tilley hat on a train with spare cash hidden inside it which, of course, noone would have known was there. I’ve got an awful feeling it was an emergency £100. It made the choice of his next birthday present easy for me – though I didn’t include £100!
That’s funny, Jen.
They just got the hats from me.
On *everything* I might lose, I label with “if found, please call…” A tag on my keys, in my wallet, my earphones, everything. On my phone a label with my Beloved’s number…
I shall follow your example–I mean two hats!
I just love reading your posts, which are always well written and quite often generate a few chuckles. Thanks for sharing your thoughts and experiences with your fans and readers.
Thanks, Cyndy.
Love Tilleys! i still have mine tho, have managed not to leave it on the bus, and my late hubs’ Tilley has been handed down to a young friend of the family, who is cherishing it 🙂 …..write your name and address in it this time Robin – who knows, it may make its way back to you when it goes on its travels 😉 x
Hi Robin at hat is bad edisvially such a stylish one But How’s about this then I lost my car and door Keys somewhere on a bus or a train station platform or a a restaurant in York just before Xmas I met a new friend on the Oldark tour in 2018 She lived in Oz she journeyed to York to have a catch up stopping off etwennher trip to Edinburgh and London. Parked my car on
Outskirts of York as parking is atrocious in city centre Gad a wonderful day made my way back to my nieces
home for she was the owner of the spare parking space only to discover late at night I had no house or car keys No one I could contact that night to assist smdbtoo late to make a double trip on a notoriously bad road in the dark I have a wonderful neighbour who was available the next day who holds a spare set fir me She travelledn to York to meet me all for the price of a bacon sandwich I am now known
as Nanny of the Lost Keys by my grandchildren My Oz friend managed a trip across several continents without one mishap Ibshould be renamed Mr Bean Hat looks good though
I saw one of these once, in a thrift store!
Very dejected when it proved not to fit!
So I still wear my father’s Stetson, “The Last Drop”…Once you see that illustration, hard to forget.
All the best
Perhaps it will be 3rd time lucky for you Robin! 🙂👍
Just love Tilley hats
Tilley hats are the best, (I have two!) Hang on to this new one. 🙂
I am ashamed of how many things I’ve left on airplanes, including several pairs of eyeglasses in cases. Tucked into the seat picket while I snooze, and abandoned when I left the plane. My description to the airlines’ lost-and-found was ridiculous: “It’s a black eyeglass case.” Since then I label my cases with bright tape and my contact information. But on my last flight I left my book on the empty seat next to me. Hopeless!
Cheered me up again. Thank you
Left mine on a picnic table at a camp site in Algonquin Park in northern Ontario a few years ago. By the time I realized and went back to retrieve it, a mama black bear with cub had claimed my blue Tilley Airflo.
The fatal move is the one one least suspects…….You mentioned you sat on your hat, thus out of sight out of mind. These hats were designed to make this feasible. Perhaps this is in the nature of a design flaw rather than a special convenience.
All the best
Good looking hat!
I do apologize, but I have to divert to your comment about your ‘brother Jack’. Made me flash back to meeting said brother at the stage door of Old Vic’s ‘The Crucible’ in 2014. I avoided the crush for Mr. Armitage that all the other females were waiting in, and happily met your brother Jack, instead. Will never forget it. I told him I had a crush on you back in the 70s, and he said he’d tell you same. And, oh, by the way: Your brother was absolutely best part of the play that night, without a doubt. Cheers! 🙂
Lovely–thanks; I passed on your message to Jack.
Better to lose your hat than your head
(as when you played Essex in Elizabeth R)
🙂
Tina
Too true!