Off the top of my head
I rarely wear hats.
It’s not that I don’t like them. I actually think hats can be super cool. But there are three reasons I don’t wear them.
1. My head isn’t shaped in a way that’s conducive for hat-wearing.
If I put on a hat and let it sit naturally where the shape of my head fills the hole in the hat, it sits way back on my head. I look like Maria Von Trapp or Little Debbie, except with fewer Swiss Rolls. Then again, I have plenty of rolls. It’s just that none of them have been claimed by Switzerland…yet. Anyway, most hats are designed to be positioned in a way where the brim rests on the forehead, and that ain’t happening with this gourd.
2. Hat Head.
You know what I’m talking about. You know it when you see it. Someone’s been wearing a hat for hours and when they finally take it off their hair is a fright. Well, that’s what it’s like if I have a hat on for longer than five seconds. My hair is fine, easily irreparably squashed, and it has a mind of its own, but it only seems to think thoughts of anarchy and chaos and epileptic squirrels. It’s not pretty, y’all. If I put on a hat, it’s an all-day commitment.
3. A lack of cool millinery for the free spirit and eclectic soul.
I don’t want to wear the typical Kentucky Derby hats or royal wedding fascinators. And nothing that looks like it could have been worn in a 1970s wedding. And no old-lady-at-the-beach gear. And definitely nothing bedazzled with Christian symbols. There are a lot of bad hats out there. Could we have some true creativity in Hat Land, please?
When I was a kid my mom made me wear knit beanies all the time when the weather was cool, except we didn’t call them beanies, we called them toboggans. It wasn’t my best fashion look, but nothing I wore back then was. She was convinced it would keep me from dying of pneumonia before I made it back into the house, however, and so there was little use of arguing. Just put on the dumb hat and go outside. After all, everyone else’s mother was making them do the same thing.
I love the rare occasion that I show up for Sunday lunch in a restaurant frequented by the post-church crowd of one of those black churches where everyone dresses to the nines and the women all have matching hats for their outfits. I love the look of both the women and the men. You can tell they are truly wearing their finery. I don’t want to dress like that for church myself, but I am really glad that there are people in the world who do. Somehow it’s comforting to know that. Diversity is beautiful in all its ways.
I’m not sure why I have hats on my mind tonight. I don’t have hats over my mind, that’s for sure.
Leave it to me to go running about with my head all naked.