The Boater Hat & My Head
I think I can be the kind of woman whose traipses through New York City in not a cap, or a layman topper but a straw boater hat that has, until just forty five minutes ago evoked the images of both high octane belting Gondola steerers and the kind of men who loiter around Central Park at noon on Tuesdays in May.
Fine, that’s not entirely true.
For about a month one time in 2010, I was what seemed like irrevocably set on acquiring a boater hat after having come across an image on a platform that was effectively Pinterest before Pinterest was (Pinterest). It was of a woman wearing one with small, Lennon-esque round framed plastic sunglasses, a burnt grey graphic tee and high waist denim shorts.
Don’t forget now, this was 2010 so that entire outfit was not at all a textbook example of the kind of woman you will now find in a Free People catalogue. It didn’t evince the spirit of Coachella or fresh and unseasoned part-time New Yorkers. It was completely and utterly devoid of all its current implications and so maybe, JUST MAYBE, in trying to get that feeling — the one of new but old and modern but retro — back, here I am, toying with the imaginings of a flat top and my head.
Or, you know, maybe I just want to go where the boats go.