Musings of a Drunken @#$hole #3
I wonder; when exactly did we all become fearful of the fedora? Did the hipsters and the too-cool-for-schoolers get together and pass a mandate against it?
Did the seemingly superior fashion sense of our gay and ethnic counterparts being able to “Pull Off The Look” better, intimidate us and make us decided to abandon it?
I mean I wear mine not as a fashion statement, or as some poor pathetic attempt at raging against societal norms. No, I wear mine simply because its comfortable. It fits perfectly on my head, and does everything that a hat ought to do. Keeps the hair out of my face, and the sweat from my eyes.
A friend of mine attempted to theorize that it’s just plain old fashion, and doesn’t say anything about who we are now. I think about this theory as I look around the room and see a sea of baseball caps, and can’t help but wonder. What a cap turned backwards on the head of some drunken slob sitting next to me is trying to say, sporting a cap of a team he clearly doesn’t possess the athletic prowess play for.
Longing, perhaps?
Is that why the fedora is feared so? Not because it evokes longing of something we might not ever have, but something we did have once; and lost.
Innocence, perhaps?
Maybe that’s why people look at me so strangely when I walk down the street. My hat reminds them of a more innocent time. A time when they had hopes and dreams, and anything was possible. Before compromise made it’s way into their life.
Compromises they made based on fear. Fear of what was or wasn’t thought about them, and why they even gave a crap to begin with.
Maybe that’s it, maybe that’s why the Fedora is feared so.
I’m not sure, but deep thoughts like this deserves another drink; don’t you think?


