I wish we had a beekeeping supply store in Newfoundland so I could try on bee suits and jackets before I bought them. I have two beekeeping suits, one with an attached hood, one without. Both are supposedly exactly the same size, but one of them rides a little tight when I bend over or bend down. Very annoying. I keep that one around for guests who are shorter than me. I also have a hooded jacket that looks like this when I spread it out on our back deck at 5:30pm:
The jacket is my go-to suit now because the full bee suits are human-cooking machines when the sun is out. Here’s a tip for beginners: strip down to your underwear if you can before you put on a full suit. Because if you’re in it for more than 15 minutes on a hot a summer day, you’ll be sticky and stewed in your sweat by the time you get out of it.
Anyway, I have another tip that might make wearing the bee jacket less of an annoyance. The bee jacket can get hot too, but for me, the annoying part of it is the brim of the hat or hood part of the jacket that rides too low to my brow. Whenever I bend over or try to look closely at anything in the hive, the brim slides down or sideways or moves in some way that interferes with my vision. People who have a romantic notion of beekeeping should try walking around in a bee suit sometime. Anyway, here’s what my bee jacket looks like when I hold it up by the hood:
It looks like Pac-Man’s mouth because I sewed the back brim of the hood to the bottom of the hood like this:
You could staple it together, use duct tape, whatever works. Here’s a close up my fancy sewing job:
It might not seem like much, but it’s a huge improvement in the design of the jacket. The front of the hood will always stay wide open and the brim will never fall in your face. You get the widest possible view and nothing ever obstructs your vision. Am I repeating myself? Anyway, from this day forth, it shall be known as the Mud Songs™ Patented Beekeeper’s Jacket.