THIS HAT MAY BE THE END OF US

By: B -- 4/7/06

I usually try to avoid writing blatantly self-indulgent articles on this website. While most pieces are of a personal nature, they’re also attempts (key word: attempts) to speak on popular culture in some overarching facet, as opposed to deliberate me-me-me posts. That said, today I would like to rant about an issue that may at first seem wholly self-centered. Please bear with me.

It all started when I got this hat. It is the unstructured, floppy type with a short brim, usually worn cocked to the side; a retro cap that originated in the days of yore but has enjoyed a fashion renaissance of late. (The picture below shows the exact hat I’m describing.) I bought it a couple months ago on a whim, and have been wearing it pretty much nonstop ever since. Comfy and cool, it is far and away my favorite hat.

However, it has also become an unending source of frustration for me. Can you guess why? Because people can’t stop talking about it. Everyone’s got a damn opinion. Folks are blown away that I dare sport a hat differing from the standard baseball variety. All of a sudden I'm fancypants; I’ve been repeatedly accused of “trying too hard,” as if the act of picking up a hat and placing it on my head is some daylong procedure. Good grief. It’s all anyone can talk about. A few dig it, most hate it, but everyone has something to say.

I’m getting it from all sides. My family yelped with shame the first time they saw me, reacting as if I had gotten a Tysonesque face tattoo. My younger brother, a rare breed of “20-years-old-going-on-45” was particularly cruel. My friends responded with a healthy mix of chuckles and gay jokes. One guy in my fantasy baseball league actually changed his team name to “Sweet Hat.” Gawd, that’s genius. Others just served up the predictable one-liners that garnered laughs from like-minded out-of-touch morons.

“Hey man, you going golfing later?” (snicker) “Dude, your grandpa called, he wants his hat back.” (giggle) “You’re not actually wearing that out tonight, are you?” (guffaw) “Did you lose a bet?” (chortle) Believe me, I’ve heard every joke you can conjure up. You are not clever. You are not funny. You are not original. What you are is lame. You are making fun of a person for their personal wardrobe choices, which is a special brand of pathetic. Good for you.

I cannot fathom for the life of me why so many people think my hat is such ripe conversation material. Listen, I can understand the attention if I were wearing, say, a fedora or a turban. If I’m sporting a look that hasn’t been embraced by the general public, I can deal. Freaks are freaks, and if someone chooses to don unusual clothing, he or she should expect stares. If they wanted to blend in, they could.

But you know, these hats are pretty common nowadays. Maybe not in this fashion-averse state, but otherwise, they’re everywhere. Believe me, I’m not revolutionizing the fashion landscape as we know it. I bought the damn thing at Target, for crying out loud. Can’t you all just comprehend that I don’t share your enthusiasm for dirty backwards baseball caps and move on? Why do you so badly want me to dress just like you?

I’ll admit, I understand the light-hearted mocking directed at folks wearing outdated threads. I can appreciate the gentle laughs at the expense of the out-of-touch; the pleats, the shoulder pads, the perms, the crewcuts, the tapered legs, ha ha, look at that oblivious jackass, what a disgrace, ha. And I’m not immune. If I see someone wearing a fanny pack, chances are I’m making a comment. That’s just how I’m wired.

But it’s one thing to tease the follower. It’s far worse to ridicule someone for being original. The issue with my hat, and fashion in general, is a tiny example of a larger societal issue that, well, bugs the shit out of me.

To wit: my ex-girlfriend once wore a men’s tie as a belt, as was the current trend. The teasing she received from her fashion-conservative friends was so relentless she decided to never wear it again. It just wasn’t worth the trouble. Nice friends, huh? Do something out of the ordinary, people have a fit and try to convince you to be boring like them. You know, I can’t pull that off, so I’m going to try to stop you from doing it too. Nothing like trying to drag someone down to your own pathetically-dull level.

Evidently, anyone who tries to sidestep the mores of the general public is accused of trying too hard. Quite a stance to take on the issue of personality: if you buck the norms of greater civilization, prepare to be ridiculed by all the “regular” people. If this lame-ass movement takes hold, if everyone surrenders their uniqueness for fear of scorn, we’ll soon be living in a completely homogenous society. Can’t wait.

But whatever; mock me all you want. Bring it on. You can have your Applebee’s, your married-at-24-kids-at-28, suburb-living, non-smoking, soft rock, Everybody Loves Raymond, light-beer-drinking, vacations to Disney World, tattoo-free, Dave Barry, baseball-caps-only society. Go nuts.

(Let me be clear: I have absolutely no problem with that lifestyle. I occasionally encapsulate that lifestyle. But I have a huge problem with people who think that lifestyle is the correct lifestyle.)

Me, I’m going to dress and act how I want, and I’m not going to judge anyone else for their choices. In fact, I celebrate individuality. Crazy concept, but it’s true. I know the idea of being different, of acting out, scares the hell out of most of you, but can you really imagine a society full of your boring asses? The freaks, the weirdos, the trying too hards are the types that float my boat.

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