When I was five, I had a green-and-red striped touque with a big green and red pompom on top. My brother said I looked like a Christmas ornament, but I just loved it for so many reasons. It was warm, it fit me perfectly and an association with Christmas, the best holiday of the year, could never be a bad thing.

But even more significantly, I loved that touque because my grandmother had knitted it for me. My grandmother had over 30 grandchildren and great-grandchildren. It wasn’t always that easy to get her attention. Especially, when you were one of her few grandchildren who lived miles away. So even at just five years of age, I knew that receiving a hand-made gift from grandma in the mail was something pretty special. She had sent it all the way from Montreal to Winnipeg. And if you needed a touque in Montreal, Quebec, you most certainly needed it even more in Winnipeg, Manitoba!

Today, I have all kinds of touques in many different styles and colours. There’s my slouchy hat that is perfect for bad hair days or doesn’t mess up my ponytail. There’s my running touques made of moisture-wicking material that keeps my head dry during winter months–and even has a hole to accommodate my ponytail (once again). My knitted touque with flaps is perfect for skating and tobogganing outside. Some of my touques are lighter fabrics or knits that work well in cool, but not frigid temperatures. I love my Hudson’s Bay touque for its iconic value, but my favourite at the moment is my boyfriend’s charcoal grey with a moose head embroidered on it. It is the perfect weekend cap and he never mentions the fact that he never gets to wear it anymore.

Sadly, my Christmas toque is not a part of this collection. A few years after I received it, I took it off during an unseasonably warm March day. I was at a park and quickly got caught up in playing in the beautiful sunshine with my friends, after months of cold and wind. I only remembered my touque the next day when the temperatures dropped again and I went looking for my reliable, warm friend. When I returned to the park, it was long gone. My only hope is that it went to another happy head that it would keep warm for many winters to come.