Language of Love: Hats?

This month I've been ardently researching the clothing and culture of the 1920s. Two reasons. One, I'm helping costume the actors in my daughter's spring musical theater recital, set in the 20's. Two, I'm presenting a costuming workshop at my RWA chapter's writer's retreat. So I gladly combined my two efforts into one tax-deductible order of vintage costuming books :).

So what does this have to do with the language of love, this month's theme? In one of the books I read that women, supposedly, used to tie the ribbon in their ubiquitous cloche hat hat differently depending on their love relationship. (1) Picture a cloche hat with a stiffened ribbon through the side, sort of like a feather. The wearer left the ribbon straight, like an arrow, if she was single but committed romantically. She tied a simple knot if she was married. And she tied a fancy, frou-frou bow if she was looking for love, hopefully in all the right places...or speakeasies, since this was during the Roaring 20s!

While that doesn't seem to make logical sense -- surely the knotless ribbon should represent the unentangled single gal -- it is a type of love language represented symbolically. General engagement rings and wedding bands, the color of flowers (http://www.teleflora.com/flowercolors.asp) -- though this is more in the meaning of the gift than what it represents about the wearer, or how you wear your claddagh ring (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Claddagh_ring) -- these are other various cultural symbols beyond the FaceBook status that quietly whisper the language of love, of a sort, without the wearer having to state it aloud.

I found a couple references to the meaning of circle pins (http://thevintagevillage.com/profiles/blogs/50s-circle-pins-do-they-have) and here for pretty pictures (http://mid2mod.blogspot.com/2011/08/back-in-day-circle-pins.html) but they seem a bit more vague than the aforementioned examples. Here's one about what the color of your cravat supposedly represents: http://academia-cravatica.hr/interesting-facts/speech  which I had not heard before.

Can you think of more examples? I don't write historicals so, while I'm enjoying my foray into vintage fashion research, I'm not well-versed in other "love language" representations that might exist in other times and cultures.

Jody Wallace
Author, Cat Person, Amigurumist
http://www.jodywallace.com * http://www.meankitty.com  

(1) Herald, Jacqueline. Fashions of a Decade: The 1920s. BT Batsford Ltd, London, 1991. Page 30.

Much ado about nothing...

I'm struggling through book two of my paranormal series at the moment. Besides my own lack of confidence, life issues and plot-knots, there are other difficulties making it hard to write. One problem being that the hero of book three plays a small part in book two. He's a secondary now--one with major attitude--yet, while I'm working on this book, he's trying to dictate his story instead. I have a hard time writing two different projects at once. :\

(Men can be so difficult.)

My other problem is I have to figure out all the nuances of his character--and his talents/abilities, etc--so that they carry through from one story to the next. Personalities I can handle fairly well. Making up my own mythology isn't quite as easy. Plus, I have to make sure that whatever I write now is something I can live with for the long haul.

One particularly tricky aspect seems a bit...well, silly. But since the hero of book three is a shape-shifter, it is of utmost consequence to both him and the story itself. My conundrum is this: What to do with his clothes when he shifts?

The mere question brings to mind the old Incredible Hulk television show where the hero went through several shirts per episode. (Morphing muscles are hell on poly-cotton blends.)

Is that what I want for my hero? No, I can safely say I'd rather he have a modicum of control over his shifting. Much easier on the clothing budget--not to mention it adds to his innate heroic bent. Heroes must be in control. At least in some respects.

So then I have the option of him undressing every time he wants to morph. That could work. However, it also makes for other tricky and perhaps, funny, situations. Hmmmm, he really doesn't have a great sense of humor. Do I dare try it? Not sure. Also, he doesn't seem the type of man to take a moment and neatly fold everything into a small pile to be retrieved for future use.

I can also use another, less popular plot-device and have the clothing become part of his animal-persona. Yeah, I kind of like that one, except I wonder if it comes off as a cop-out?

I might even try the 'magical wardrobe' idea. However, that concept has been used by at least one of the more popular para-romance writers around. Would I seem like a copycat? :\

What to do? Any ideas? At the moment he's quite naked...and more than a little cold. ;)