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Introduction

anhurset

New in Town
Messages
2
Location
United States
Good afternoon everyone,
I figured I'd get things rolling here by introducing myself. Being in my mid 30s I'm what they now refer to as an adult or older student (I'm confused as to exactly when I became “old”), I’m working on an anthropology/archaeology degree with the intention of replicating artifacts for hands on museum displays.
About eight years ago I gave up on my hair, male pattern baldness shortly after shaving my head I received a fairly painful sunburn to the top of my head and ears, the day after my sunburn healed I became a hat wearer. My style has been changing recently and I found that my hats (beater cowboys and outbacks) were no longer appropriate for the image I was trying to project, so I decided to try a fedora and found that I like them, hopefully the look will grow on my wife.
 

danofarlington

My Mail is Forwarded Here
Messages
3,122
Location
Arlington, Virginia
Welcome.

Fedoras grow on you more, the more different styles you buy, and you discover the best kinds for you. Also, you need different fedoras for different purposes--casual, dressy, to go with certain clothes, and so on. I swear I never worried about outfitting much, in casual dress as well as formal, until I started to wear hats. Then the whole thing comes into focus, in a way that non hat wearers don't have to think about. You can cop a different personality by wearing different fedoras.
 

Jaxworx

Familiar Face
Messages
70
Location
State of Washington, U.S.A.
Hello, Loungers!

New guy here; name is Jack. I bumbled across your site a few weeks ago and have lurked a bit since.

I got whomped up about hats in the 80s, after I got out of the service for the first time and went to college (Go, Cougs!). I felt like I was violating received commandments every time I ventured outdoors without headgear, so I picked up a crushable, black fedora made of rabbit fur. It went everywhere with me. I fished it out of rivers including the Rio Grande and the Salmon (guess it wasn't the "River of No Return" after all), hunted and four-wheeled and camped and generally larked about in it. It smelled like dogs and horses and sweat and worse by the time it mysteriously disappeared. Wife One kept mum about that...

After divorce and a couple of years in cloth ball caps (who ever thought a man should wear plastic on his HEAD?), I saddled up and headed downtown to Byrnie Utz to find a hat like Grandpa's.

Grandpa Lewis was a 6'3" cowboy who flew the mail in biplanes, drummed for a jazz band, rode motorcycles, farmed hogs, ranched cattle, hunted from horseback, and owned the first 4WD truck in McCall. Naturally, I wanted "his" hat. All I could remember about it was that it was a pale Stetson and not exactly a "cowboy" hat (though I always thought it should have been).

I was less inspired by Grandpa Fax's hat tastes. Gramps was a fine man, but he warmed his hairless dome with a plaid wool fedora. Also 6'3" (how did I end up so short at 6'1"?), his hats tended to look like fuzzy little beanies pasted across his pate. I'm not much for plaid, anyway.

So off to Byrnie Utz, where I ended up buying a light grey Stetson Homburg (not sure that's the proper model name, but it looks like a minimalistic homburg to me) with a black band, and a silverbelly Open Road with a cattleman's crease (note: all hatterous terminology lifted from Fedora Lounge; newbie accepts no liability for improper usage).

Couldn't integrate either of them into my working wardrobe, comprised of logoed company golf shirts with occasional business suits. The Open Road also looked ridiculous on the head of a skinny guy wearing t-shirts on the weekends. Also, it was STIFF and cut into my scar-lumped Neanderthal brow ridge something fierce. I'm a long oval. I knew this from motorcycling; I have an "Arai head" and my Open Road was clearly shaped for a "Shoei head."

Beautifully fitted, the grey homburg got worn to a charity auction or two with Wife Two (a Shoei-headed woman), but it's frankly too upscale for any of my business-class suits. BU had also, at my tyro insistence, steamed a couple of frontal dents into it ("fail").

Defeated, I stowed them into their hat boxes and set them on a high shelf. Some day, maybe, I'd be man enough to wear those Stetsons. For the next bunch of years, I went through a series of Filson Packer hats with the brims flipped and the fronts pinched. They keep the rain off beautifully and form (eventually) to your skull, but the waxed cotton also SHRINKS and is about as easy to stretch as sheet metal.

That didn't matter for a while. I rejoined the military and was gone for a while, sporting head gear both tougher and less comfortable than tin cloth. Returning home, I found both my cast iron woodworking tools and my beloved old Packer terminally liberally fouled by cat urine. The poor old hat had been holding a respectable puddle of the stuff for months. Tough stuff, that tin cloth, but it wasn't the only unkept promise. Fidelity is important to me (see: Grandpa's hat, above).

Fast forward (I know; not fast enough) through 1.5 marriages and I find myself attending synagogue. Hats welcome, even indoors! Homburg to the rescue. Felt good on my head, and stays on much better than a yarmulke.

Picked up another Packer for woodcutting, walking the dog and so forth. It shrank, of course. I forgot to order it one size up. I forget a lot of stuff now. My army headgear wasn't entirely shockproof.

The green meanie fits like Gramps's multi-plaid fedora now, but at least it's cooler (got this one in 8.5-oz. shelter cloth instead of the 12.5-oz. tin). Tough as it is and even somewhat decent looking, I wanted something a bit softer and more comfortable. Off to Byrnie Utz again -- every few years, whether I need to or not.

A cutie in a cowgirl hat asked what I was after, then showed me a series of Stetson fedoras. Can't have a Temple, as the design derives from a character much less interesting (to me) than Grandpa Lewis. The girl -- pretty enough to matter -- liked a brown Chatham on me.

The softer, silverbelly Stratoliner felt more comfy, but I already owned two pale Stetsons with dressed edges. I was looking for something to wear around quite a bit. My hair is thinning above that Neander-brow (I think of it as premature helmet burn), and I'm sick of my glasses running with rain. I needed a daily hat that looked sharp and rode comfortably. I went off to think about it.

And found you guys. Damned glad to know ya, even if it's only a little bit around the internetworked edges. I was promptly and completely swamped by the volume and depth of information on this site... and perhaps a bit dismayed by the implicit message that John B. Stetson ain't what he used to be.

I also picked up the sentiment that a guy ought to wear what feels right. My motorcycling buddies and I agree to "ride what makes you smile." And that Stratoliner made me smile. Whether or not it is what it used to be, it's one sharp chapeau to my eye.

Y'all also gave me to understand that a guy can _mess_ with his hats. I'd had no idea! After a quick call to the Utz folks for confirmation, I broke out the NOS Open Road and steamed the bejabbers out of it, then stuck in a sculpted bit of wood to coax it longer and narrower. Presto: an Arai Open Road! I started marching around town in it. Pretty Wife giggled some, but I wore it out for coffee, brought it on dog walks, wore it to DAV meetings. It looks pretty fine over my blue plaid Filson Mackinaw Cruiser, but it's too pale, pretty, and BIG for an everyday hat.

Back to visit Byrnie, then. This time I spoke with a different employee, this one young enough to make his derby-wearing company president (who apparently started steaming hats in there when he was ten) look properly like "The Ol' Man."

The kid showed me over to the Borsalinos. They're lovely things, especially the black beaver, but it's more hat than I'd feel comfortable getting splashed by a passing taxi. Like most guys getting my toes wet in something (see also: woodworking tools), I'm cautious until I have a handle on what I really like. Also, the beaver Borsies run $560.00. Cattleman's crease or no, my budget is "all hat, no cattle."

I knew what I wanted: dat Strat. I hauled him back to the Stetson side, where we poked through their enormous stash. They stock everything a 7-3/8 pinhead could want, including Stratoliners in black, brown and a fetching medium grey... er, "Caribou." For the record, neither of the chief colors on an actual caribou is grey.

They looked smashing, those Strato-hats. For one thing, they don't make my bullet-shaped bean look taller. For another thing, they touch the top of my head.

All of 'em.

So I went out of there with my greasy green Packer in a nice new Stetson box, and a brand-new Stetson Firenze on my gourd.

It's nothing like Grandpa's hat, but it's a by-G-D Stetson and feels like magic. The young gent told me was rabbit fur, although I think it may have some beaver content. It's chocolate, with a swirled "silk" finish and a feather poked into its rich, dark band. Apparently guessing I'd be wearing this one a lot, the Prez tossed in a packet of extra feathers.

It doesn't touch the top of my head anywhere, and the feeling is something like being snuggled warmly into the warren by a mother rabbit. Yeah, I know that whole platoons of mama rabbits probably died for my hat-wearing sins, but they eat their own young anyway, so don't start with me. My Firenze is soft, breathable, looks like something Mike Hammer's father would wear to church, and fits my head like they built it to order.

I brought it home yesterday. Yesterday, we had an eyeball-to-eyeball showdown with Smalldaughter's principal over curriculum. My new Firenze sat on the table, front brim flipped up, imbuing the room with primary mojo until the principal wilted.

Last night, Pretty Wife (number Three, if you must know, and I'm too cranky to adapt to another one now) and I went out to explore Seattle Lit Crawl. For the first time this year, it poured rain like an ad for Morton's Salt. Enjoying that whole "dressed like a grownup" vibe, I let the water roll off my silky new hat and down the shoulders of a black cashmere topcoat. Without recourse to plasticky "technical" fabric, I was warm, dry, and well-finished.

We ended the evening sharing a booth and a slice of German Chocolate at Dilletante. When sipping delicately at one of their absinthe-fueled Green Fairies -- a white chocolate-drizzled cocktail, feyer than a pink leprechaun -- it's best to keep your John B. there on the table to remind you that real men drink whatever we want.

Back home I set it down, soaked, on our kitchen table. This morning it still looked and felt perfect. I'm wearing it now (still slightly damp), and it feels better by the moment. A Borsalino might look sharper, but I doubt one would ever feel righter for me.

The only cheesy part is the Stetson logo, protruding from the bow like a Levi's tag. The hatters tell me I can take it off if I want. It's only affixed with double-stick tape, but I think I'll leave it. It reminds me of my Grandpa.

So that's my new hat. Whaddya want to know about me?
 

winter_joe

A-List Customer
Messages
317
Location
New Town, North Dakota
Hello, Loungers!

New guy here; name is Jack. I bumbled across your site a few weeks ago and have lurked a bit since.

I got whomped up about hats in the 80s, after I got out of the service for the first time and went to college (Go, Cougs!). I felt like I was violating received commandments every time I ventured outdoors without headgear, so I picked up a crushable, black fedora made of rabbit fur. It went everywhere with me. I fished it out of rivers including the Rio Grande and the Salmon (guess it wasn't the "River of No Return" after all), hunted and four-wheeled and camped and generally larked about in it. It smelled like dogs and horses and sweat and worse by the time it mysteriously disappeared. Wife One kept mum about that...

After divorce and a couple of years in cloth ball caps (who ever thought a man should wear plastic on his HEAD?), I saddled up and headed downtown to Byrnie Utz to find a hat like Grandpa's.

Grandpa Lewis was a 6'3" cowboy who flew the mail in biplanes, drummed for a jazz band, rode motorcycles, farmed hogs, ranched cattle, hunted from horseback, and owned the first 4WD truck in McCall. Naturally, I wanted "his" hat. All I could remember about it was that it was a pale Stetson and not exactly a "cowboy" hat (though I always thought it should have been).

I was less inspired by Grandpa Fax's hat tastes. Gramps was a fine man, but he warmed his hairless dome with a plaid wool fedora. Also 6'3" (how did I end up so short at 6'1"?), his hats tended to look like fuzzy little beanies pasted across his pate. I'm not much for plaid, anyway.

So off to Byrnie Utz, where I ended up buying a light grey Stetson Homburg (not sure that's the proper model name, but it looks like a minimalistic homburg to me) with a black band, and a silverbelly Open Road with a cattleman's crease (note: all hatterous terminology lifted from Fedora Lounge; newbie accepts no liability for improper usage).

Couldn't integrate either of them into my working wardrobe, comprised of logoed company golf shirts with occasional business suits. The Open Road also looked ridiculous on the head of a skinny guy wearing t-shirts on the weekends. Also, it was STIFF and cut into my scar-lumped Neanderthal brow ridge something fierce. I'm a long oval. I knew this from motorcycling; I have an "Arai head" and my Open Road was clearly shaped for a "Shoei head."

Beautifully fitted, the grey homburg got worn to a charity auction or two with Wife Two (a Shoei-headed woman), but it's frankly too upscale for any of my business-class suits. BU had also, at my tyro insistence, steamed a couple of frontal dents into it ("fail").

Defeated, I stowed them into their hat boxes and set them on a high shelf. Some day, maybe, I'd be man enough to wear those Stetsons. For the next bunch of years, I went through a series of Filson Packer hats with the brims flipped and the fronts pinched. They keep the rain off beautifully and form (eventually) to your skull, but the waxed cotton also SHRINKS and is about as easy to stretch as sheet metal.

That didn't matter for a while. I rejoined the military and was gone for a while, sporting head gear both tougher and less comfortable than tin cloth. Returning home, I found both my cast iron woodworking tools and my beloved old Packer terminally liberally fouled by cat urine. The poor old hat had been holding a respectable puddle of the stuff for months. Tough stuff, that tin cloth, but it wasn't the only unkept promise. Fidelity is important to me (see: Grandpa's hat, above).

Fast forward (I know; not fast enough) through 1.5 marriages and I find myself attending synagogue. Hats welcome, even indoors! Homburg to the rescue. Felt good on my head, and stays on much better than a yarmulke.

Picked up another Packer for woodcutting, walking the dog and so forth. It shrank, of course. I forgot to order it one size up. I forget a lot of stuff now. My army headgear wasn't entirely shockproof.

The green meanie fits like Gramps's multi-plaid fedora now, but at least it's cooler (got this one in 8.5-oz. shelter cloth instead of the 12.5-oz. tin). Tough as it is and even somewhat decent looking, I wanted something a bit softer and more comfortable. Off to Byrnie Utz again -- every few years, whether I need to or not.

A cutie in a cowgirl hat asked what I was after, then showed me a series of Stetson fedoras. Can't have a Temple, as the design derives from a character much less interesting (to me) than Grandpa Lewis. The girl -- pretty enough to matter -- liked a brown Chatham on me.

The softer, silverbelly Stratoliner felt more comfy, but I already owned two pale Stetsons with dressed edges. I was looking for something to wear around quite a bit. My hair is thinning above that Neander-brow (I think of it as premature helmet burn), and I'm sick of my glasses running with rain. I needed a daily hat that looked sharp and rode comfortably. I went off to think about it.

And found you guys. Damned glad to know ya, even if it's only a little bit around the internetworked edges. I was promptly and completely swamped by the volume and depth of information on this site... and perhaps a bit dismayed by the implicit message that John B. Stetson ain't what he used to be.

I also picked up the sentiment that a guy ought to wear what feels right. My motorcycling buddies and I agree to "ride what makes you smile." And that Stratoliner made me smile. Whether or not it is what it used to be, it's one sharp chapeau to my eye.

Y'all also gave me to understand that a guy can _mess_ with his hats. I'd had no idea! After a quick call to the Utz folks for confirmation, I broke out the NOS Open Road and steamed the bejabbers out of it, then stuck in a sculpted bit of wood to coax it longer and narrower. Presto: an Arai Open Road! I started marching around town in it. Pretty Wife giggled some, but I wore it out for coffee, brought it on dog walks, wore it to DAV meetings. It looks pretty fine over my blue plaid Filson Mackinaw Cruiser, but it's too pale, pretty, and BIG for an everyday hat.

Back to visit Byrnie, then. This time I spoke with a different employee, this one young enough to make his derby-wearing company president (who apparently started steaming hats in there when he was ten) look properly like "The Ol' Man."

The kid showed me over to the Borsalinos. They're lovely things, especially the black beaver, but it's more hat than I'd feel comfortable getting splashed by a passing taxi. Like most guys getting my toes wet in something (see also: woodworking tools), I'm cautious until I have a handle on what I really like. Also, the beaver Borsies run $560.00. Cattleman's crease or no, my budget is "all hat, no cattle."

I knew what I wanted: dat Strat. I hauled him back to the Stetson side, where we poked through their enormous stash. They stock everything a 7-3/8 pinhead could want, including Stratoliners in black, brown and a fetching medium grey... er, "Caribou." For the record, neither of the chief colors on an actual caribou is grey.

They looked smashing, those Strato-hats. For one thing, they don't make my bullet-shaped bean look taller. For another thing, they touch the top of my head.

All of 'em.

So I went out of there with my greasy green Packer in a nice new Stetson box, and a brand-new Stetson Firenze on my gourd.

It's nothing like Grandpa's hat, but it's a by-G-D Stetson and feels like magic. The young gent told me was rabbit fur, although I think it may have some beaver content. It's chocolate, with a swirled "silk" finish and a feather poked into its rich, dark band. Apparently guessing I'd be wearing this one a lot, the Prez tossed in a packet of extra feathers.

It doesn't touch the top of my head anywhere, and the feeling is something like being snuggled warmly into the warren by a mother rabbit. Yeah, I know that whole platoons of mama rabbits probably died for my hat-wearing sins, but they eat their own young anyway, so don't start with me. My Firenze is soft, breathable, looks like something Mike Hammer's father would wear to church, and fits my head like they built it to order.

I brought it home yesterday. Yesterday, we had an eyeball-to-eyeball showdown with Smalldaughter's principal over curriculum. My new Firenze sat on the table, front brim flipped up, imbuing the room with primary mojo until the principal wilted.

Last night, Pretty Wife (number Three, if you must know, and I'm too cranky to adapt to another one now) and I went out to explore Seattle Lit Crawl. For the first time this year, it poured rain like an ad for Morton's Salt. Enjoying that whole "dressed like a grownup" vibe, I let the water roll off my silky new hat and down the shoulders of a black cashmere topcoat. Without recourse to plasticky "technical" fabric, I was warm, dry, and well-finished.

We ended the evening sharing a booth and a slice of German Chocolate at Dilletante. When sipping delicately at one of their absinthe-fueled Green Fairies -- a white chocolate-drizzled cocktail, feyer than a pink leprechaun -- it's best to keep your John B. there on the table to remind you that real men drink whatever we want.

Back home I set it down, soaked, on our kitchen table. This morning it still looked and felt perfect. I'm wearing it now (still slightly damp), and it feels better by the moment. A Borsalino might look sharper, but I doubt one would ever feel righter for me.

The only cheesy part is the Stetson logo, protruding from the bow like a Levi's tag. The hatters tell me I can take it off if I want. It's only affixed with double-stick tape, but I think I'll leave it. It reminds me of my Grandpa.

So that's my new hat. Whaddya want to know about me?

First of all welcome to the lounge! And a very great story sir very entertaining. And I think you pretty much told us all of it lol.
 

Bitzelbook

New in Town
Messages
19
Location
United States
Hi, all! Bitzelbook here. Ive been lurking for a bit, and ive learned a lot in a short time--but man, there's a lot to learn, still!

Got my first hat as a teen, <coughs 20 years ish back>, but just started a couple years ago again as an adult. My first hat was a Dobbs--wool felt. Nice style, but clearly a beginner's hat. I've since moved up to two Royal Stetsons: a black 2 1/4" and a tawny 2", both fedoras, both fur felt. Now I'm hooked. Looking to make a move on a nice 3" brim, and I'm considering an Alfonsino or a Borsalino. The difference, at first glance, is $100; I'm sure there are other differences, too!

Glad to be here. I'm looking forward to learning more.

Bitz
 

Chapaman

New in Town
Messages
6
Location
Brazil
Hello everyone,

Please, allow me to introduce myself. I'm a silent movies maniac who recently got interested on hats and some other vintage things and aspects about life. My name is Arthur, but I've decided to create my account using Chapaman (you can call me either way). Well, I don't feel the urge to say much more about myself... I just liked the Lounge and decided to exchange some ideas with you. As you may see under my profile, I'm from Brazil (please understand that it can be very hard to use the right words 100% of the time when your native tongue is portuguese). Well, I think that's pretty much all. Thanks for reading this.

Looking forward to improve my english skills and with time become a regular at the Lounge,
Arthur Chapaman.

PS: My eternal love and admiration belongs to Mary Philbin.
 

cjw314

New in Town
Messages
23
Location
United States
Hello all, I am Chris (from Louisville) and have no experience with hats except for a light weight synthetic field hat that I use for hiking

Recently find myself wanting a gentleman's hat.

Thank you for so much I've gained from lurking here; love the what you're
wearing threads. :D

---
Sincerely,
Chris
 
Last edited:

BladeOfAnduril

One of the Regulars
Messages
145
Location
Pennsylvania
Good day Gentlemen,

I've been lurking for a few weeks, and have now taken the dive. My name is Matt. I work in IT for a large IT company. I'm a libertarian, computer nerd, and American car buff. I'm 25 and still suffer on occasion from "boyattireitis". The first step toward a cure is acknowledging the affliction. So, I'm working to improve my wardrobe and appearance. As part of that most of my baseball caps and t-shirts are gone, and I love the idea of a nice fedora. As a result, I'm here. According to my calculations, I should have a melon sizing in at 7 3/8. Any tips on how to get started on my search for the perfect first hat would be appreciated. Glad to be here! Thanks for all of the wonderful information that is available on this site!
 

danofarlington

My Mail is Forwarded Here
Messages
3,122
Location
Arlington, Virginia
Welcome. I would just scroll through some threads, and make a note about the dimensions, style and colors of hats you see that might work on you. Also check out eBay on "fedoras," and go to retailer websites. There are too many options for a third party to speculate on what looks good on you, and what you may like. Then, buy a few inexpensive hats, maybe from eBay, and see how you like them. Prepare for a less than 100% satisfaction ratio on how you like them on you, which is why it's good to start off with low-cost hats.
 

BladeOfAnduril

One of the Regulars
Messages
145
Location
Pennsylvania
Thanks for the suggestions Dan. So far I really like the look of the Akubra Stylemaster in grey. I'm also a big fan of several of Optimo's hats, but nearly had a heart attack when I saw the price. I guess I know the look I like, just not how well that look with actually, well.. look. There is a hat shop about 40mins drive from me. Perhaps that would be a good place to start.
 

howardeye

Practically Family
Messages
569
Location
NW Indiana
New to the Lounge Today

Hello,
I am new to the Lounge today. I am addicted to Vintage Fedoras especially the Beaver Fur models. When I am not wearing a leather outback
style hat or a Robo Cap I am wearing a Dobbs, Stetson, and Borsalino. I am a jewelry fabricator and silversmith one of my specialties being hand-fabricated chains for Robo Cap Hatbands. If you are unfamiliar with a Robo Cap you can view them at http://www.robocap.net/ They are the only hats that stay on my head riding a motorcycle. I have seen many fantastic hats on this forum.
 

howardeye

Practically Family
Messages
569
Location
NW Indiana
That is my buddy's site. He probably meant 7 3/8. I used to sell them myself at motorcycle events with my jewelry but they are no longer made. They look the best with the brim up and buttoned. Thanks for the chart. I wear Australian Barmah hats also. I like the kangaroo skin the best. I put a croc skin band on it with the teeth. Is there a way of knowing when someone replies to my posts? Thanks
 

mikespens

Call Me a Cab
Messages
2,913
Location
Tacoma, Wa
Is there a way of knowing when someone replies to my posts? Thanks

Subscribe to thread and get email alerts using the thread tools on the tool bar at the top of the page.
 

howardeye

Practically Family
Messages
569
Location
NW Indiana
Thank you. I really like the hat you posted from Black Sheep. I did not know places like that existed today. I have been buying vintage. I will be buying one of theirs. Thanks again, Bert
 

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