The Brat in the Hat
I have a fabulous hat. It's like nothing else I own, in that it's purple and wacky, and, well ... a hat. I'm not a hat person. I'm not a person who sees hats in a store and rushes over to the rack "like a kid in a candy store" (a phrase I detest) and just has to try them on. I don't do it, and not just because I kinda have this thing about not really digging lice. I just don't do it. If I did, of course, I'd have to try on a lot of hats, and have someone film it, so I could then put together a really adorable montage set to music and then come up with a full-length screenplay in which to embed the scene.
So, anyway, I have this hat. And I just can't seem to wear it yet without feeling like everyone is pointing and staring. Not because of the hat itself, because believe me, as far as New York City is concerned, it's not the craziest or most outrageous thing (hat or otherwise) around town. No, I'm self-conscious because my experience with it is new. Although I bought it last year, I only wore it a handful (or headful) of times, because last winter wasn't cold enough, and I was secretly "relieved", because I wasn't bold enough. It felt alien, like all of a sudden I sprouted a third head.
I'm always like this when I buy something that I'm not used to wearing. When the DOG bought me a gorgeous watch a few years ago, I couldn't wear it without feeling like I had a blinking neon sign above my head with a huge arrow pointing down to my wrist. (For some reason the sign said "Girls! Girls! Girls!" No, I don't know why.) Like I was the first person in the history of the watch-wearing world to ever sport a new watch. Quelle cretin.
So anyway, I'm determined this winter (which is supposed to actually be wintry) to make the experience of wearing this new hat ... old hat.
And I'll do it. Just watch!
fresh-baked at 07:48 AM
I had a hat like that once. I called it my "Denny DimWitt" hat. It was conical in shape with an enormous fuzzy ball at the tip.
And for all my protestations with the prerequisite bitching and/or moaning, it was the warmest hat I ever had... until I cut it up into tiny pieces one summer afternoon.
C'mon... It had a fuzzy ball! What's next, shoes with curled points and a scepter with jingling bells?
Remember what I told you...ALL!
Tragically, I'm unable to wear hats.
You see, I have quite a large head. The kind of head that makes small children run up to their mommies and say, "Mommy, why does that man look like the bobble-head toy Daddy has in his pickup?". No that's a lie. Larger, more surly children would run up to their Mommy as well.
Anyhow, hats I buy have to be made by a foreign man in far-off western suburb of Chicago. He's the only one willing to sacrifice the amount fabric necessary to cover my head.
There was a short stint where I used to use bedsheets (Queen sized, as it's not THAT big) as makeshift bandanas, but alas my biker days are far behind me. More importantly, however, the difficulties faced when trying to look tough with images of Buzz Lightyear™ "coming to the rescue" just above your eyebrows were insurmountable.
I knew the comments would be back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I knew it I knew it I knew IT!!!!
But if I can't be a douche and talk about my cervical mucus, I am SO outta here.
Emily Post, Etiquette: The Blue Book of Social Usage (1959)
"...It is impossible for a hatless woman to be chic."
Jodi, put that hat ON... and strut your gorgeous stuff! And remember... you ARE chic!
I didn’t know that douches not only clean, but dig. Who knew?
And keeping this on the topic, I think that people who wear hats should be struck blind by God, because hats = vanity = a deadly sin.
*gets off soapbox*
One winter, back when I was young and cute, I wore a black beret everywhere. It suited me and I was known all throughout town as "the boy in the beret." See what you're missing?
Um... Tiff? The clue bag is in the corner. I suggest you go grab one. Quickly.
Jodi, Jodi, Jodi,
Hats, I think, are optional.
This is an odd coincidence:
i love hats. but, i have a freakishly small head. don't get the wrong idea: it's definitely a freakishly small head jam-packed full o' brains. wall-to-wall brains. nothing but brains. it's just a freakishly small container. every hat i put on it too big for me. i actually tried on a hat at baby gap last week. and it fit.
freakish, i tell ya. just freakish.
In the words of F. Scott Fitzgerald: "You shall know me by the cut of my clothes and my hat made of dried pig semen."
A classic, really.
I once wore a hat.
This "douche" thing is getting out of hand. Next thing you know, W. will be saying it at the National Press Club or something so that he sounds like he's "with it".
As for hats, I have a stunning collection of New Era 59/50 fitted wool baseball caps, which I never ever wear, even to baseball games.
So Jodi, Have you seen the new Harry Potter movie yet?
Hey! Speaking of Harry Potter, have you tried the new cafe down in Union Square, J-di?
When is a "Comments" feature NOT a "Comments" feature?
Okay, okay. Please don't delete me! I know this is off topic.
It's just nice to know that somebody finally spelled it J-di.
It's spelled J-di in Elvish, too. Bet you didn't know that.
Can we see a picture of this HAT? I think everyone commenting on this topic would love to see this HAT, seeing as this post is all about this HAT. Kind of an ON-TOPIC request, don'tcha think, being HAT related and all...