Thursday, 9 April 2020
C's brilliant bippity boppity hat musings of a few days ago (here) brought to mind my own long term struggles with.....well, head-wear of any kind really. In the same way that I don't have the correct shaped face to successfully support any kind of facial hair, I also possess a bonce that for some reason just can't carry off a hat, much to my eternal frustration.
Around 15 years ago I bought an old fedora from a vintage store in Brooklyn. It was love at first sight. I wore it constantly all around New York for the rest of that trip, convinced that I looked the bee's knees, regardless of what my reflection in store windows told me to the contrary.
The fedora was made by Fine Wear Hats of 58-14 Myrtle Avenue in Brooklyn, which is approximately three miles from the location of the vintage store where I eventually found it all those years later. I wish the hat could talk. I'd love to know about its original owner. Did it ever leave the city, the borough, or even the neighbourhood?
Back in the UK, in the 15 years I've owned this fine titfer, I've probably worn it outside the house maybe twice, tops. I'm now fully conscious of the fact that it looks ridiculous perched on my head, however much I try to convince myself otherwise. Inside the house though, I wear it constantly - it's both extremely comfortable and strangely comforting. Come to think of it though, with no prospect of having a professional haircut in the foreseeable future and the old barnet becoming increasingly unkempt, perhaps the hat might yet serve an outdoor function as the lesser of two evils.
Mice Parade - Old Hat
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