A few weeks ago, Tristan mentioned “snapback hats” and then tried to explain what they were. I listened intently but, typically, failed to grasp the concept. I choose to blame his explanation as much as my inability to clearly visualize the object of his description.
Today, wandering through a busy mall, snapbacks came up again. This time, he pointed to one as it sauntered past on top of someone’s head. “Those are snapbacks?”, I exclaimed, incredulous, “I’ve got a closet full!”
When I was in CEGEP, my father took me to buy a pair of Puma running shoes. They were blue suede with the red puma design sweeping along the side. A couple of years ago, out of the blue, Pumas were all the rage! Susan got a pair. Tristan got a pair and I, well, I still had the pair I got decades ago.
Heh heh; I believe "shrewd" is the word you're lookin for.
It’s like I always say, “Hang on to your gross, out-of-fashion stuff because sooner or later, it’s coming back around!” I actually don’t say that and am always amazed when I see my forgotten junk appear as part of everyone else’s fashion statement. It happened with my plaid shirts, my lumber jackets and now, snapback hats.
I eagerly await the day my blue cotton Miami Vice blazer bursts back onto store racks! Susan calls it my "real estate agent jacket" and wretches and heaves whenever I put it on, but in a decade or two, I'll show her! The day will come and, believe me, I will savor the last laugh.
I carefully laid a selection of my snapbacks on the ping pong table. I propped up the ones that had been flattened and straightened out the fronts that had been wrinkled.
Beauties, huh? Are you seeing the history in this assortment? I know, but it’s not that simple.
I discovered there are certain criteria that must be met; the hot, hip snapback hats of today should have a team logo on the front, possess a certain vintage flavor and a beak that is straight, not curled and bent. Being a long-time beak bender and curler, that, unfortunately, ruled-out a lot of my dustier gems. After looking through them and patiently listening to my explanations about why this or that hat was a collectible and sentimentally attached to me, Tristan selected one for possible wear.
Boom! How exciting; my fashion slop has reached the top! My snapback beak is at the peak! My forgotten hat is just all that!
So, you see, it’s like I always say, “Patience isn’t a virtue, it’s a fashion gift”. I couldn’t be prouder.