Fedoras are the assholes of the hat world — a statement I make well-knowing that as soon as this story publishes, an army of fedora enthusiasts will come at me faster than a ten legged squirrel on a nut-hunt, their sharpened pinecones ready and aimed. It’s more dangerous than you think to dis an accessory, but I stand behind my decision. I’m taking one for the team.
As with most things I can’t stand, there’s a strong reason tethered to it.
During the phase of my life that can best be described as trendy, a fedora was like the Maraschino cherry-topping to my mall-affected outfits: artificial, bad for you, and completely superfluous. It was the unspoken 20% percent devil that accompanied my shirt which read 90% angel. These were dark times. I was overcompensating for everything: the braces, 13-year-old insecurity, bad hair days. When I see someone in a fedora now, I can only assume the same — that they too are overcompensating for something that needs zero compensation.
I know that when I assume I supposedly make an ass out of you and me. But the fedora will create the illusion that your head is an actual ass — have you seen the top of one? It looks like it’s modeled after a slightly-parted butt crack. However, I blame the fedora here, not its wearer. We’re all victims to the hat’s alluring charm. Fedoras are sirens who call to male and females alike, singing promises of looking cooler, of getting laid, or appearing “in style.”
The felt ones are smart and know exactly whose heartstrings to pluck. They go after the same type of men who wear formal vests over dress shirts with no jacket to a club; guys who wear square-toed “going out shoes”; males in bootcut, white-stitched jeans. Josh Groban. Meanwhile the straw ones (which are the worst of their kind) stick hatted claws deep into the weak: coeds on spring break, my dad on vacation, people who’ve spent too much time drinking in the sun then went shopping. Women looking for a hat to steal off someone’s head as a flirting technique, or men who saw Matthew McConaughey do it and said, “Yea, I’m gonna do that too.”
But they’re not Matthew McConaughey. No one is. And so, with fedora season rapidly approaching, I’ve made it my duty to stop the madness. My plan of action? A quiz.
Check Yes If You Are One Or More of the Following People:
A grandfather in Boca
A character on Mad Men before the costumes began teetering into American Hustle territory
Anyone else in the slideshow above
If you are not on this list, do not wear a fedora.
So easy, right? However, my strong aversion may have less do with my eighth-grade projections and instead more about the fact that it’s been a long time since I’ve seen a fedora truly prove its worth. So if you’re a fedora wearer who is still reading this and not yet en-route to stabbing me with the aforementioned pinecone, then post a picture. Prove me wrong.
My hair is really dirty today anyway, and I could actually use a hat.