In the modern world, of course, all-village orgies in the village hall are not the formal affairs they once were. Throughout the long – and rather moist – history of the village orgy there has been a tradition of the attendees arriving in more formal wear, including the all-important hat.
For, back in those days, if a gentleman attendee liked the look of a lady’s titfer then he would approach while raising his own and clutching it firmly in both hands approach the lady and respectfully ask if he could have the pleasure of the next dalliance.
In those days, it was considered very bad form to engage in orgiastical practices without wearing a hat at all times – expect for the underarm full overback milkmaid and pomegranate perversion, of course. There are even some rather stern editorials in rural village newspapers of the late 1950s and early 1960s of the growing tendency for the younger, more racy, generations of orgy-goers to dispense with the hat altogether. This led many of the editorial writers to wonder how these youngsters would cope with engaging in orgiastical practices with other orgy-goers of – say – the rank of Lady Mayoress, the local MP, or even the local vicar, especially when divested of his vestments, without the then requisite headgear.
However, from today’s standpoint where very few village orgy-goers wear a hat – except for Strom Thighhammer and his fireman’s helmet, of course - we can safely say that their fears were completely unfounded. Having said that though, there is something about having a deerstalker when confronted by a pair of assistant librarians dressed only in riding hats and boots that can make a man - even of Grand Uncle Stagnant’s advanced years - feel himself once again.