Kayt Turner: 'Everyone commented on The Hat, but it was never to see the light of day again'

Published on Saturday 13 March 2010 19:32

I WAS reading a report about a new service called "Cinderella Me". No, it's not some joker who sends mice to your house (think he's already been round to Turner Towers). No, this is a company that loans out designer shoes. So, rather than spending £550 on that must-have pair of Louboutins, you hand over £50 (or so) and you have the footwear of your dreams – for a week at least.

Apparently, Keira Knightley is a big fan, although I wouldn't have thought that she would have much to trouble her about how much a pair of shoes cost. I can't quite imagine her prowling round New Look trying to work out if she can really afford 50 for a pair of suede knee-highs. (But maybe Disney figure that working with Johnny Depp is its own reward and, really, she's just as hard up as the rest of us.)

So, instead of trawling round the shops to find that perfect pair of shoes to go with her Chanel frock, Keira just calls up and asks to borrow a pair. Then, once she's been up the red carpet with them and had the world's press snap away, they're back to their owner. Rather like having an extremely well-off and generous best friend.

I think it's a great idea. I have practised something similar for years. It started about 15 years ago when I was getting an outfit together for a family wedding. I had the suit, the shoes and the bag. The thing I didn't have was The Hat. Looked high and low and couldn't find anything that really did it for me. Until I came across the most fabulous, the most amazing, the most eye-wateringly expensive Philip Treacy hat.

For those of you who don't know who Philip Treacy is (all you straight men), he's an internationally renowned designer of titfers. This was an absolute show-stopper and would go perfectly with my outfit. I had to have it. Just one wee, small, insignificant little problem. They wanted just shy of 400 for it.

That the hat was worth that amount of money wasn't really in doubt. It was a breathtaking work of art. However, it was such a distinctive piece that I was never really going to be able to wear it again.

While Mr Turner might happily tell anyone within earshot that I am a profligate spendthrift, even I draw the line at expending such a large sum on a one-shot deal. So I swithered.

But The Hat was calling to me. So, the day before the wedding, I dug out my plastic and it was mine. It was worth every penny. Everyone commented on The Hat. Complete strangers walked up to me when the photos were being taken to tell me how wonderful The Hat was. And they were right. It was fabulous. But, short of matching it with my goonie and swanking about the house, it was never going to see the light of day again.

There was nothing else for it. I went back to the shop and gave the performance of my lifetime. I told of my search. I told of my joy at finding The Hat and then I told of my sorrow at the fact that it didn't actually go with my outfit and so, regretfully, I would have to return it. The assistant did have to prise my fingers from the hatbox, but it wasn't long before she had swiped my card and refunded the full amount.

Parting may well be sweet sorrow, but the pain is greatly eased by a huge wedge of cash going back into your bank account. And, like Keira, I've still got the photographs.