Hat's Off

 

My new hat was about the most exciting thing that happened today.  For many, many years now, I've kept meaning to replace the fedora hat I once owned.  It wasn't a particularly great fedora - it was cheap and definitely not crushable, as they should be.  I also never risked finding out whether it was waterproof.  I eventually donated it to an amateur dramatics group, meaning to buy a replacement.  Which I never did.  Until I bought this one.  This one most definitely is crushable and waterproof.  It should be, as it wasn't exactly cheap.  There are many fedora-type hats available online, many claiming to be wool felt and crushable.  Most are made in China and the cheaper ones are of the 'single size' variety.  In the end, I opted for one that was UK-made and came in variety of sizes.  Now, hat sizes are problematic for me - I find 'medium' a little too tight and 'large' too loose.  I've learned, though, that slightly oversize is better than tight, so I ordered this one in 'large'.  It is, indeed, slightly too loose, but I employed my usual solution of inserting a band of thin foam rubber into the band inside, resulting in a comfortable fit.  

Anyway, I wore it out for the first time today, when it served as a sun hat while I was on my country walk.  A function it performed admirably.  I've long had a bit of a thing for fedora hats - the result, doubtless, of watching far too many forties crime movies, where everyone, particularly private eyes, sported them.  They also feature prominently in French cinema - Alain Delon, in particular, frequently wore a fedora in his period films.  In Borsalino (1970) both he and Jean-Paul Belmondo wear them, made by the Italian company that lends its name to the film, as they take over the Marseilles underworld.  For both actors, a scene of them carefully adjusting their fedoras in a mirror before going into action, became characteristic - Delon's hitman in Le Samourai (1966), for instance, always ensures his hat is at the right angle before he leaves his flat, while in Le Doulos (1962), Belmondo carefully adjusts his fedora in a mirror before collapsing, having been fatally wounded.  Not to forget that Tom Baker often wore a fedora when playing the Fourth Doctor.  So it's no wonder that I ended up with such a hankering after them.  Mind you, there are those who would suggest that my current interest in fedoras stems from watching Indiana Jones movies, where he always sports one whilst beating up Nazis.  Not that I'd do any such thing.  But if I do see Nigel Farage while I'm wearing this hat, well...