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I've noted several threads in which Loungers chew over the responses they get when wearing their hats. Fedoras, while not as unusual a sight as they were a few years ago, are still uncommon enough to provoke comments. As one who has been a regular hat-wearer essentially all his adult life (going back something in excess of 30 years now) I am all too familiar with the often silly and unoriginal observations that pass the lips of the self-appointed sartorial punditry.
The wags apparently regard fedoras more as costume than everyday attire. Perhaps they have a similar perspective on anything at all out of the ordinary.
And perhaps some hat-wearers come across as though they are expecting the (mildly sarcastic) comments. Maybe they do seem more costumed than dressed. The question these unfortunate fellows should ask themselves is: Am I wearing my hat, or is my hat wearing me?
Years and years ago, I worked with a couple of remarkably overweight men. One was quite self-conscious about his weight (and himself in general), and it showed. He was slump-shouldered and widely regarded as ineffectual. The more mean-spirited among us revelled in picking on him. I must admit that I sometimes joined in the fun that was had at his expense, and I regret, now that he is gone, that I will never get the chance to make it right.
The other guy, who was even larger than the first (he tipped the scales at about 450 pounds, I'd guess), strode into a room and took command. He was good at his work, quick with a joke, enjoyed the company of good-looking women. He made fun of himself before anyone had the chance to make fun of him. In other words, he carried his weight, his weight didn't carry him.
Look, I've never been so delusional as to think of myself as a particularly good-looking guy, but I know I look good in a hat. Hat-wearing has been my habit for so long now that even those who are only slightly acquainted find nothing unusual or remarkable about the hat-wearing itself, although they may offer comment on a particular lid. These days, those comments are uniformly favorable. They are generally of the "nice hat" variety, to which I typically respond, "and that's a nice (whatever) you're wearing today."
The wags apparently regard fedoras more as costume than everyday attire. Perhaps they have a similar perspective on anything at all out of the ordinary.
And perhaps some hat-wearers come across as though they are expecting the (mildly sarcastic) comments. Maybe they do seem more costumed than dressed. The question these unfortunate fellows should ask themselves is: Am I wearing my hat, or is my hat wearing me?
Years and years ago, I worked with a couple of remarkably overweight men. One was quite self-conscious about his weight (and himself in general), and it showed. He was slump-shouldered and widely regarded as ineffectual. The more mean-spirited among us revelled in picking on him. I must admit that I sometimes joined in the fun that was had at his expense, and I regret, now that he is gone, that I will never get the chance to make it right.
The other guy, who was even larger than the first (he tipped the scales at about 450 pounds, I'd guess), strode into a room and took command. He was good at his work, quick with a joke, enjoyed the company of good-looking women. He made fun of himself before anyone had the chance to make fun of him. In other words, he carried his weight, his weight didn't carry him.
Look, I've never been so delusional as to think of myself as a particularly good-looking guy, but I know I look good in a hat. Hat-wearing has been my habit for so long now that even those who are only slightly acquainted find nothing unusual or remarkable about the hat-wearing itself, although they may offer comment on a particular lid. These days, those comments are uniformly favorable. They are generally of the "nice hat" variety, to which I typically respond, "and that's a nice (whatever) you're wearing today."