The number of times I’ve been seduced by hats on film makes me wonder if I’m not just the unfinished reincarnation of a camp, elderly bachelor. The End of the Affair wasn’t bad, but I can’t remember anything about the plot, apart from Julianne Moore working those little Forties tricorns, and Angelina Jolie’s cloches were the only thing that kept me awake through Changeling.

Hats are seductive. And not just to me. Men of a certain age – and Joan Collins – have never really recovered from their demise. For them, a woman isn’t really a woman unless she’s Joanna Lumley or comes with a brim attached to her skull. It’s a bit camp to modern eyes. Then again, over-accessorising often is.

Hats don’t seem to come with the same health warnings that other catwalk conventions do. Perhaps it’s because you don’t have to be any particular shape or size to wear one that the normal precautionary steps are skipped. You’d never buy a pair of trousers without trying them on first. But women buy hats because they like the look of them on the shelf. Like bags and shoes, hats give the impression of being self-contained little sculptures. But a hat isn’t self-contained. The moment you pop it on, it becomes part of your context, your outline, your aura. There’s a lot going on when you put on a hat – too much sometimes.

One reason why some women look so self-conscious in hats is that they save them for special occasions. When we finally succumb, we fall for something stiff and contrived on the grounds that soft or floppy or utilitarian isn’t appropriate for a formal event. Bang-for-your-buck flamboyancy beats the sacred creed that less is more, and we end up with the kind of hats that only work on women who have a great sense of entitlement. Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall, looks marvellous in this sort of hat. And she has good posture, which helps.

But there has been a stealth revolution in hats over the past year. They’ve lost that formal hatness that made them look archaic on anyone but Erin O’Connor. This summer you can see any number of 17-year-olds (male or female) wearing straw trilbies and fedoras – a kind of borrowed androgynous cool from Puff Daddy and co. The funny thing is, it works. There is something snappy and confident about those hats that is endearing and elegant.

Trilbies, panamas and fedoras suit everyone – honestly. Wearing a hat will keep you cool and is one of the best services you can render your skin when the sun is out (although my colleague Sarah Vine says a sunscreen is still mandatory). Apart from the cheapies in Topshop, current fashion department favourite panamas and trilbies include Pachacuti’s, at www.panamas.co.uk (from £32), Hat Attack’s (from £65 at Fenwick), Lock & Co’s (from £129; www.lockhatters.co.uk) and www.newyorkhatco.com (from £40). Alternatively Albertus Swanepoel’s soft khaki cotton hats, from £25 at Gap, would slip nicely into any beach bag. Very Lauren Hutton on safari. See how seductive they are?

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