Hats off

I only discovered hats a few years ago. As a youngster, growing up on Long Island in the 1950s, it was not cool to wear a hat. Only the odd kids wore them. The rest of us froze. Our fathers always wore hats so we, being rebels without a cause, did not.

It’s a wonder we rebels even wore clothes. (Oh. Wait. That actually happened a bit later.) Caps were acceptable on two occasions, when playing baseball or when fishing. Fedoras, the hats of our fathers, were only seen as stage props in the high school play, usually on a Damon Runyan character.

Baseball caps were always worn straight-on, brim to the front, with one exception. If you were trying to appear crazy you would pull the brim to one side in imitation of Gimpie of the Dead End Kids.

The wearing of the cap with the brim to the back is the most infuriating thing about today’s style. Not only does it not perform its original function of obscuring identity (it also keeps the sun out of your eyes, but that is incidental), it also gets in the way. You can’t lean back against anything without your cap popping up.

That little strap that is supposed to be in the back is now in the front with a patch of skin glaring out like a third eye. How awkward is that odd sunburn pattern on your balding forehead? I mean, imagine . I wouldn’t actually know anything about this.

    u    u    u

We had one kid in our school who wore a beret. This was doubly suspicious. Odd boy also wore his pants with the waistband at his actual waist. The rest of us wore our waist line about six inches lower which also created a rather odd, baggy look at the seat, a phenomenon often seen in pants of older men of my generation whose sense of style atrophied in their teens.

To top it off, Mr. Eccentric did not roll up his short sleeves in a cool cuff.  They actually hung down almost to his elbows. Of course by not focusing so much on these externals he did manage to get straight A’s, was valedictorian of our class, and received a scholarship to Harvard.

This type of misfit often went on to win medals in the Marines, head up his own wildly successful corporation and marry a supermodel. The cool kids usually wound up working for him. I never did, but then what does that really say?

Now where did I put my hat with the earflaps?

Bill Abrams resides in Pine Plains.