Women of attitude

Red Hat Society turns the simple reality of aging into a raucous good time

YOU KNOW YOU'RE IN FOR A GOOD TIME WHEN the evening's drink special matches the color of your hat.

The Red Hat Lady -- vodka, cherry vodka, amaretto, Southern Comfort, sloe gin, sweet 'n' sour mix and lemon-lime soda, shaken over ice and served in a martini glass -- comes out as wanton-red as cheap toenail polish, and 69-year-old Wanda Prince wants some.

"I'll have eight or 10 of those Red Hat things," she tells the bartender.

"You want EIGHT of them?"

"Mmm, probably 10."

He blinks.

Although she's known in certain circles as "Wicked Wanda," Prince isn't stockpiling for personal consumption. This is girlfriend time, and she's buying a round for her table, inarguably the rowdiest at the first-ever Red Hat Hoot on Oct. 3 at the Sheraton Anchorage Hotel. Rowdier than the ladies a few tables over blowing soap bubbles, rowdier than those toward the back blasting their kazoos.

As festivities get under way, Prince and her fellow Call of the Wild Reds stand, lift their glasses and toast each other, then all the rest of their red-hatted sisters.

"Wah-hooo! To all you ladies!"

They bounce in their seats. They laugh a lot. They hoot and holler. They're really noisy. That's because they're doing their best to follow Red Hat Society rules, which is easy since there are no rules. It's enough to make their Queen Mum proud.

If you've never encountered Red Hatters before, maybe you're not getting out enough. You'll find tables of women decked in red hats whooping it up at restaurants. You'll find them waving from floats in local parades. You'll find them at concerts, plays, night clubs, bowling alleys -- just about anywhere, except maybe jail.

If you really have never stumbled upon a Red Hat happening, sooner or later you will. There are a lot of members out there, and their numbers are growing almost daily.

In a culture that worships youth, Red Hatters embrace the contrary. This is a society with one mission, and one only, and that's for women 50 and older to get together to celebrate their place in life. That could mean gathering for afternoon tea, throwing a pajama party, or hitting a dance floor. It's kind of like playgroup for adults, only nobody gets put in timeout.

Being a part of it has definitely cranked up the fun meter in 75-year-old Ina Weingardt's life. She's Queen Mum of the Fireweed Floozies, which means she's in charge, such as it is, of her chapter and all its doings.

"Most of our ladies are from the Anchorage Senior Center," Weingardt says. "You just get together with your friends, and you have fun. You don't do anything else."

That's it. Really. Drink tea, play cards, paint the town red. It's all good, so long as it's legal.

Some chapters just do lunch. The Call of the Wild Reds did Seward.