The Doctor steadied her chin on her hand and grinned like she'd swallowed a pair of elephants as she looked at the hat rack before her.
"So?" she said loudly to the mostly empty room, "What do you think?"
A deep rumble of regret bubbled up from somewhere in the TARDIS. Obviously this was a bit more complicated than timeship indigestion.
"What?" the Doctor quipped, scrubbing hand through hair and blowing out her lips.
The hat rack, draped in an old seven-colored scarf and smelling faintly of peppermint, said nothing.
"No, no! I am not dyeing my roots!"