The weather, in case you haven’t noticed, has turned a bit torrid in these parts. The sun beats down relentlessly as we continue with a summer that kind of began in March and has just kept going. It’s the sort of weather that calls for folks to wear head covering.
All good, you know, skin cancer and all. In that context, and considering how torrid it is, I should be covering my pate and no longer be letting my wonderful silky hair (which I still have, blessedly) waft in the breeze.
And I would, except for one thing – I don’t ‘do’ hats. Nothing against hats – except for ballcaps and that was a disgusting vogue that seems to be waning – they fulfil a function and sometimes they are part of a costume that designates importance – like the pope or someone like that. Or a crown on some tyrant.
I like old pictures of men in fedoras back when all men wore chapeaux. You’ve seen the old movies and you couldn’t imagine a Bogey or Edward G gangster minus headgear. They say JFK’s bareheadedness killed hat vogue, but it has never been proved that there was a hat manufacturer conspiracy behind the assassination.
And I am here to say I love hats on women; either nice, wide-brimmed tea in the sunshine hats or cutesy little fascinators at Ascot or other posh gatherings in which babes can say without fear of contradiction: “Hey, we’re rich and you’re not.”
But, as I say, I don’t do hats. I never have done hats. That was the reason I didn’t go into the army – they make you wear a hat.
Sometimes I think I should wear a hat. Aside from keeping the rain off my pate, a hat would be a certain insurance against skin-cancer when the days are torrid outside, as they are now.
When we were cruising in Central America a year and a half ago they advised us that we should get hats for the remainder of the trip; so in Huatulco, Mexico we took the plunge, but as we were heading to ports southerly I wanted a genuine Panama Hat as would befit the geography of where we were headed, and as we were to be going through the Panama Canal then such headgear would be apt.
We went into a small shop in Huatulco and got into a bartering session with the proprietor who was unwavering until I unleashed Wendy on him. She’s better at that kind of stuff than I am. And ultimately we bought genuine Panamas. And they looked kind of cool and even I wore mine a couple of times. And then we brought them home and there they have sat ever since.
But, as I want to go to the beach today I just might don it. That’s despite the fact I don’t do hats and the primary reason for that is that once I doff it I will feel like I’m still wearing it hours later.