Wyn Drabble: Not a corgi hat in sight

There were hats galore at the service at St Paul's Cathedral during the the royal celebrations for the Queen's Platinum Jubilee. Photo /Ap

I watched the TV news footage of the royal celebrations and, for the service at St Paul's Cathedral, what attracted my attention most was millinery. Yes, hats appeared to take centre stage.

Poor health kept Her Majesty from the event herself so we can only imagine what she would have worn atop the royal head. At least she would have been able to watch the telly to check out the millinery worn by others at the event.

The men were hatless – though there was something tangled but unidentifiable on Boris Johnson's head – so it was up to the women to carry the millinery flag.

Mrs Johnson's hat defied gravity. White with some sort of red plumage, it gave new meaning to the phrase "rakish angle". It teetered on vertical and might have been best described as an elaborate ear covering. I have no idea how it could have stayed on but there might have been a lot of Blu-Tack or gaffer tape involved.

When William and Kate stepped out of the limo, the strongest impression was of an upturned poached egg on Kate's head. Under the brim some sort of mishap must have occurred because it looked as though some of the yolk had run.

Meghan was more restrained – simple white, at a moderate angle – while Camilla went for cream in a slightly larger size.

Rather surprisingly, nobody saw fit to wear a corgi hat.

Her Majesty missed the Epsom Derby too – telly to the rescue again – and it's there that some of the world's maddest hattery is on display.

At these races you might see flying saucers, flat discs, fire hydrants, oversized confectionery, inverted woks, flourishes of flowers or generously-stocked fruit bowls. I can reliably report that the rakish angle is still the new black.

And in past years there have been butterfly hats. One photograph I have seen shows a cluster of butterflies – definitely upwards of 12 – all attracted to something on the wearer's head and displaying a bewildering kaleidoscope of primary colours. It's a butterfly bonanza.

Another was more restrained and limited itself to just one butterfly. But it was a very large butterfly, probably shagged out after its fluttery flight and looking for a place to rest. It could certainly be used as a prop in a movie called "The Attack of the Killer Butterflies".

One favourite looks like a cloud of pastel pink candy floss which floats out over both the wearer's shoulders. Unfortunately, it looks as though it would attract flies.

Another one I can only describe as a small yellow thing. Perhaps it was some sort of art installation.

All of this discussion has made me painfully aware that I only have three hats. Well, you do have to put a cap on these things.

Wait a moment. I've just remembered it's five if you count the beanies.

I have "my best" (a bespoke piece created by a classy milliner in Petone), a more casual checked paperboy cap (also made by the same milliner) and an ordinary sensibly-priced piece of headwear I would describe as my "gardening hat".

The beanies are not really worth describing, though if I had to come up with an appropriate adjective it would probably be "awful".

So if I had been able to accept my invitation to the Epsom Derby (I had a prior engagement), I know the beanies, the gardening hat and the cap would have been inappropriate. But I might have scraped in with "my best", though I would have had to wear it at an original and interesting angle.

Unfortunately, I can't think of an angle that hasn't already been done. Well, not off the top of my head.

Wyn Drabble is a teacher of English, a writer, musician and public speaker.