You step out for coffee. On the way, there turns out to be a bookshop, a courtyard with an unexpectedly beautiful tree, an unfamiliar dog clearly in need of a compliment, and a café you had no intention of visiting. The plan was excellent. The city simply made better offers.

You are wearing cream, sand, olive, and dark brown stripes — the colours of coffee, old façades, and parks where women with somewhere to be invariably choose the longest route. The hat can be turned around, worn inside out, gathered higher, or pulled lower with the fold-up brim. The deliberately loose threads at the top look as though the route was planned along the way. Which is, of course, the only sensible method.

The dense wool-and-acrylic knit holds its shape while still letting air through. The hat barely stretches, but sits comfortably and makes no attempt to make decisions for you. The snood goes on in a single loop; after that, you can turn and flip it, bringing cream, olive, or sand to the front. Repeating yesterday’s version is difficult. Repeating yesterday’s day would be stranger still.