I’ve never really been a hat person. There are a million reasons for this, not the least of which is my abnormally large head (I swear, most hats sit on top of my head. Literally, perched). Truth is, I’ve never been a fan of how I looked in hats. I’ve branched out a few times for the perfect vintage hat (case in point), but it’s definitely been a fashion category I have yet to fully exploit.
Turns out, I just hadn’t met My Hat. All this time, I’ve been a Hat Person without her perfect chapeau. This cutie was something that was tossed into my basket on a whim. A year or so ago, on a trip to a destination wedding in Fiji, I remember scouring the airport for just such a hat. Something floppy and fun that would go with my vintage swimsuits. And of course, Murphy’s Law dictates you never find something when you’re looking for it.
And what do you know? Just when I stopped looking….
It’s funny, because I forget that I still have a few “rules” hidden away in between my couch cushions. Rules that should have been vacuumed up long ago and tossed with the rest of the rubbish. About what I can and can’t pull off. What I should and shouldn’t wear. I thought I stomped them all out with my old leg warmers and acid washed jeans (shudder shudder). Because my fear of hats almost made me forget my most important fashion rule: That there are no rules. And if there are, they were meant to be broken. Cause baby, there’s nothing we can’t pull off.
So, hat’s off to all of you out there breaking the rules today. Taking a chance. Asking for the promotion. Submitting the application. Making the call. To the woman I caught twirling in the cereal aisle. You car singers, belting it out for the world to hear. All of you late night programmers and mom’s working on science fair projects with their kids on the weekend. To risk-takers, big and small.
Hat’s off to you.
Lip Color: Ruby Woo