First of all, the name change wasn't a success. I've mulled it over, so have you, and so F-C is back, and I'm kind of glad really.
Now, let's talk about hats. I saw a guy wearing a hat this morning and it's clear they either suit you or they don't. For me, they don't.
There's a certain amount of confidence that comes with being able to carry a hat off, and I just don't have it. It's like I'm not a sunglasses person either, or a beard man.
Put a trilby on me and I'm less Justin Timberlake, more Eddie Wareing. In a baseball cap I'm more Charlie Brown than Tarantino, and woolly hats on me make Crossroads' Benny look like Noel Fielding. (Actually, does anyone look good in a woolly hat? Badly Drawn Boy looks like Dave Lee Travis).
No, I've got the wrong shaped head, obviously. In a cap, I look crap. In a boater, I'm a bloater.
So I must regretfully accept that I'll never wear a fedora with elan, never sport a tam-o'-shanter with style and perching a pork pie hat upon my head will never happen. A pork pie on it's own - now that's more me.
Oh well, at least I've got hair. That'll have to do.
