When I was ten or 11 years old, somewhere around there, my mother bought my brother and me these little fedoras to wear to Sunday school.
How I loathed that hat! Most men wore them, back then. Our family doctor had one, which I tossed into the toilet when he wasn’t looking. And now I had one. A fleeting glance at the mirror convinced me that I looked like a total yink.
How many times did I leave it in the cloakroom and emerge from Sunday school without it, claiming it had mysteriously disappeared? My father always made me go back in and get it. I left it in the kids’ cloakroom, in the adults’ cloakroom. Even left it in the church’s kitchen once.
After several dozen attempts to ditch the hat, it finally dawned on my parents that I just simply couldn’t stand it. I don’t remember exactly what they did with it; it only mattered that the stupid thing was out of my life. I mean, really! Mark and I were the only kids in the whole church who had those hats, and all the other kids snickered at us when they saw us.
And no, I wouldn’t wear one today, either. And at my age, you don’t have to.
I feel sorry for the kids in church who did NOT have a hat. It kept people from patting your head, didn’t it? These hats look macho to me; i really like them. I wore a fedora (for women) in college – you know, a bit of individuality in a “camp” where everyone was almost the same.
I guess it was better than a beanie with a propeller on it.
Don’t tell me you had one of those too – lol.
P.S.–You probably looked great in it.
Aw, we all looked good when we were younger…
I understand exactly how you felt about the hat. My mother bundled me up so much I could hardly move. I hated gloves, boots, hats and scarves; all that. I don’t really like the feeling to this day. I remember how thrilled I was when spring arrived and I could ditch a bunch of the clothes.
Remember snowsuits? Sort of like being mummified.
Exactly. I felt exactly like that. Now that I am old, raised kids of my own,
I understand a little better why she bundled me up so, but it was no fun at the time.
How about short pants, coat, and tie to kindergarten? Being a proper Welsh mom–war bride brought home to the ranch–she figured I’d be a proper Welsh boy. It really set me apart for the rancher’s kids, too. I survived but to this day turn up my nose to anything other than Levi 501 (button fly, boot cut) pants.
L-RD Bless, Keep, Shine. . .
Shorts, coat, and tie–they would’ve eaten me alive.
I always get a kick out of watching the old movies where every single man is wearing a hat. The hat checkers at night clubs made good tips.