Letter From The Webmaster
In Defense of Hats
I am going to say it, no matter what the cost.
I want a hat.
There. I said it. No, I am not talking about a baseball cap, or a stocking cap, or any other subspecies of hat with the word "cap" in it. A real hat. Not a cowboy hat, but a fedora, or a bowler. An Homberg. A Tyrolean. A pinchfront. A derby.
What ever happened to hats? They just vanished into the night, sometime between 1962 and 1969. Gone. Like that. The most likely cause of their demise was the growing radical movement. This is not as far-fetched as it might seem. Hats were just steamrolling along, through the Thirties, the Forties, and the Fifties, and then BAM! The Sixties happened and...no more hats. It's sad, really. But hats had to go. Let's face it. Hats had certain characteristics that disqualified them from the modern age.
They were dignified. They were mature. They were (dare I say it?) fashionable. Let's be honest; hats were pretty damn stylish. Now, by Sixties definitions, anything dignified, stylish, fashionable and mature--hell, anything mature--was not cool. Not with it. Not groovy.
Adults wore hats. Children didn't. Now no one wears hats. What does this tell us about ourselves?
I would really like to buy a hat. Really, I would. But haberdasheries (now, there's an SAT word) seem to be going extinct. I searched on Yahoo! No haberdasheries. Now all you see are "hat shops," which sell only cowboy hats and baseball caps. They sell women's hats, too. Women's hats seem to be going out of fashion as well. They're slightly behind the curve, but eventually women won't wear hats either. No one will.
Oh, great. Now I'm depressed. I need some cough syrup.
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