I’ve always loved a man in a fedora, a boy in a baseball cap, a lady in a floppy, big-brimmed hat. My dad was a handsome Mad Man-type in the 1950s and ’60s. He never left the house without wearing a felt fedora to match whatever fine suit or overcoat he had on. There’s something about the way a man wears his fedora that says something about the kind of man he is. I love seeing pictures of the old Yankee Stadium, stands filled to the brim with men dressed up in suits and fedoras with a tiny feather in their hatband.
But that’s all changed now. Everyone, players and fans alike, wears a baseball cap. Which isn’t a bad thing. Almost everybody looks good in a baseball cap. In fact, a young friend of mine says when she sees a man she’s eyeing take off his baseball cap and his appearance loses something in the translation, she and her friends say among themselves, H.O.P. (Hats on, please.) I love baseball. I love baseball players. And I love baseball caps. But I can’t wear one. I have way too much hair. When I put one on I look like Clarabell the clown, if you remember him. Although my hair isn’t red like his, it’s big and curly and sticks out on both sides. The cap just sits way up on top of the thick curls waiting for the wind to take it away.
There are, however, some hats I can wear. In college I would buy a new hat whenever I got depressed. Not like really depressed, depressed. Just one of those moods I liked to indulge in. Play the blues, puff on a cigarette, let myself feel sorry for myself in a way that only a young woman knows how to enjoy. But then when I’d had enough of that, I’d go buy myself some fashionable floppy hat. I had a nice collection. My favorite was a deep blue felt hat with a really wide brim. I wore it way into my hippie-ish days, with jeans and a leather jacket and boots. Very hip. Or sometimes with an elegant princess style dress. I don’t know what happened to that hat. Maybe one of my ex-husbands got it in the divorce.
But I hadn’t worn another since. Until, a few years back, I was walking in Harlem with a boyfriend who bought me a red-brimmed floppy straw hat that we passed on our way downtown. An ambitious young woman had set up shop along 5th Avenue and all her hats were attached to the chain-link fence behind her little card table. There were church-lady hats, and Easter bonnets–Oh! I had one of those once, too! White straw with a navy ribbon streaming behind it! My daddy bought it for me!–and there were cloches and there was my red straw hat. When I put it on, one of the men who was hanging around the hat lady grabbed my iphone and said, “I’m taking your picture in that! You need that! It’s good!” When I saw the picture, I decided he was right. I had to have the hat. So my boyfriend bought it for me for $5.00. No kidding! I wore it the rest of the way down 5th Avenue and every time I caught my reflection in a window, it made me smile. Sadly, it didn’t save the romance. But a few years later after we’d broken up, I wore it to a coffee date with another man I’d met online. He recognized me by my hat because I’d posted a picture of me wearing it. We’ll see if this hat brings me better luck this time! Hard to say, since he doesn’t wear a fedora.
Penny Righthand
Penny, I love knowing what HOP means, although in my case, I tried to tell my kids and grandkids that the O stood for off. But I’ve given up on that. Unfortunately, most hats give me that Clarabell look. Love the hat in your photo!
Haha! What do your kids think the O stands for??
Good story. And good luck with the new gentleman.
Thanks, Cynthia. We’ve had 5 years together. So far, so good;-)
Charming story, Penny. And that red hat is TERRIFIC! I hope it brings you oodles of luck. Your smile, alone, says it all.
Thanks, Betsy:-)
I love how you got a comment from someone and got that red hat, Penny. Looks terrific. Too bad the romance didn’t last, but at least you got a great hat out of it. Years ago a boyfriend bought me an beanie with a propeller. We were going to a party here in the Silicon Valley in “costume” as nerds. Now, this guy was the most handsome man I’d ever dated, so he wasn’t convincing, especially when a pair of real nerds showed up and stole the show.
Funny story, Marian! Lots of nerds in Silicon Valley, I’m sure. But not that many handsome ones, maybe;-)
Great story, Penny. And, as per the picture in my story of Cary Grant, at least some men can look great in a fedora. (I fear I’d look more like Boris Badenov.)
Wishing you the best of luck with the hat. By the way, which is harder to find: a good hat or a good man? In any event, ex-husbands should never get custody of your hats.
John, I agree completely on the custody issue. And as for which is harder to find? I think you can guess;-)
And I’ll bet you look great in a fedora. But then, there’s always baseball caps…
I agree with you about baseball caps, they make me look like Clarabell too, not a good look. But I love the red hat in your picture, it looks fabulous on you! Sorry it didn’t work out with the guy who bought it for you, but maybe the next one will. And anyway, you got a great hat out of the deal!
Suzy
You are so right! At least I got a great hat! And I had a lot of fun, to boot. Too bad he wanted more than fun.
I love you in that red-brimmed floppy hat, Penny!
It’s wonderful when something that costs $5 can make you feel like a million bucks – and that’s all that counts!
Well said, Dana! It did make me feel like a million.:-)
And thanks for the compliment.
Great hat, great story, Penny!! I’m another Clarabell casualty…but long hair means I can at least pull it back or braid it, problem solved.