In praise of the silly hat: A marriage made in le Midi

One reason that some people come to the South of France is to get married.

I think this is mainly to avoid Soggy Bride Syndrome; this and the associated wind/rain/ snow/sleet/flood/fog/storm scenarios common in northern latitudes, especially Angleterre . . .

I was at just such a do last week, where the people were very sweet and it really was a whole lot of fun. Actually they were exceedingly lucky not to get frozen and drenched; we've had a very off and on summer so far. But in the end all was well.

Now there are those who argue that marriage is an outdated institution but I couldn't help noticing, whilst people-watching, that a wedding is a rare opportunity for pure display between the sexes.

We live in a very confused age regarding the signals given out by dress. We have endless arguments as to whether a sexy outfit means sexual invitation or intent.

A wedding seems to hark back to a simpler, almost primeval age: If you've got it, flaunt it. Because you can bet that the girl with the great legs is also the one with the highest heels and the shortest skirt, and so on accordingly for the spray-on trousers and the jaw-droppingly low-cut dress.

Now call me a sexist old twat (as you already have), but I think this is a bit of a girl thing. In fact any decent bloke should be content to shake the moths out of his BMD* suit, wash behind the ears and generally not try to steal any of the thunder.

OK, you could titivate things a bit with a flash tie or a neat buttonhole, but there definitely are limits. It's great to see the girls looking their best, and frankly it would be pretty damn dull if they didn't.

But the crowning glories are the silly hat and the eye-wateringly expensive hair-do: You know the sort of thing; eighty quid for a couple of snips and a dash of hair lacquer.

I always reckon it's a poor sort of world if a girl can't treat herself to a silly hat for a wedding. A head for hats is a talent just like for the skirts and the heels. It seems to run in our family. My sis always looks good in one.

And of course, hats are also a particularly satisfying form of self-expression for senior members of the party. I was best man for my mate Andrew a few years back and his dear old mum (well into her 80s) duly turned out in a magnificently OTT cloche affair. Noël Coward would have been gobsmacked.

*Births, Marriages and Deaths