I have finally given in and accepted that I am middle-aged and gone out and bought a hat.
Not a glamorous feathers-and-froth wedding hat but a sensible, waxed cotton, keep-your-head-warm-whatever-you-look-like hat.
And, do you know, I'm already in love with it. I wore it to walk the dog yesterday and was completely snug in the cold wind. I fully expect to be signing up for a Saga tour, buying one of those cosy foot warmers, and ditching the frothy nightwear in favour of red flannel any day now.
The mad thing is that I don't mind. Could it possibly be that I am growing old gracefully?