If you have spent any time with me, at any point of time in my life....you probably know that I am a woman of few accessories. I wear a watch, but it disappears for months on end only to turn up in a random spot, like the couch or my sleeping bag. I like earrings, but they disappear only to turn up in parking lots or luggage that I used that one time for that one conference I went to a couple of years ago. I love scarves and I wear them often, but more as a functional item than a fashion statement. I wear the occasional necklace, a bracelet now and then, and when I wore a ring, I preferred less rock and more band, especially after losing the rock on a survey one day (I found it....because looking at the ground for shiny things is what I do). Shoes are admittedly my favorite accessory, as my closet of 70ish pairs can attest.
When I do accessorize, I would like to think that I do alright at it. I am not trying to make the cover of Vogue, or even the Penny Saver. Obviously.
Of all the things I can mostly pull off ...the one thing I want more than anything...my ONE fashion goal....is to be a hat person. That's right. A person who can put on a hat... a cloche, a tam, a beret, a sombrero, a bonnet, a beanie, a fascinator, a newsboy, a pillbox, a top hat, a kerchief, a visor, a fedora, a turban, a yarmulke, a Panama, a tricorn, a pith helmet, a toque, a fez, a cowboy (hat)....and look like a natural. Give me straw! Give me velvet! Give me feathers and netting! Give me ear flaps and pom poms! Let me channel Jackie O, Indiana Jones, Annie Oakley and all the great hat wearers of history and popular culture!
I want to put on a big brim hat the likes of which the Kentucky Derby has never seen and go out in the big world and have people say to each other..."Wow, that is a big hat, but that gal is a HAT person. Look at how well that hat works for her."
I have tried. I really have. Remember all the hats I used to buy at the gift shops in Disneyland, parents? How about all those hats I bought at the shops under the London Bridge where I worked? All the times I tried on every hat at the department stores in the mall, staring in the mirror, adjusting the angles so that it just might work if I hold my head this way all the time...and then thinking too much about how many people put on that hat before me and-oh-my-god-now-my-head-itches-do-you-think-I-have-lice? Have you seen the love in my eyes when I see stocking hats with fair isle patternwork or those amazing warmie hats from Peru that everyone who has one looks fantastic in? Forgetting fashion, do you have any idea how many cowboy hats I have tried on and longed for in the Western shop so I can wear them in the field? Do you know how many I have bought, only to have someone tell me how ridiculous I look and then-oh-my-god-do-I-look-like-Hoss-from-Bonanza? And don't even get me started on baseball caps....
What? You don't believe me? Let me show you.
I realize that perhaps my aspirations are too high. That the giant brims really do only belong at horse tracks and on supermodels in very small bikinis on beaches in the French Rivera. But can't they love me just as much as I love them? What more do I have to do?!
The point of this tirade is that as much as I want to wear hats for fashion and function (because I do wear them in the field to prevent too much sun-soaking...), I can never seem to quite get it right.
Even if I forgo the purchase of a hat and make my own.
This evening's rant is brought to you by this damn thing.
Fashion? Not so much. Function? Perhaps if my eyeballs get cold or if I want to be this guy for Halloween....
Frank Sinatra said: "Cock your hat. Angles are attitude."
In this case, I haven't got much of a choice.
Sigh. Maybe someday...