Coming Soon: 'The Dearborn' by Optimo Hats. . .

The Dearborn by Optimo Hats of Chicago.

Sadly, there is a school of thought out there, personified by the blog/website Put This On, that guys who wear hats in the 21st century look like "dicks." Their word, not mine.

That attitude is really too bad. A properly fitted, decent looking hat (and I don't mean backwards baseball caps or those cheap, hipsterish Hawaiian Punch porkpie and trilby hats from the local shopping mall that sit on the top of your head) can add a certain amount of flair, panache, or even gravitas to your appearance. Especially the right kind of hat when worn with a trench coat, or other long overcoat. Yeah. Just like in those old cynical, pessimistic, fatalistic, and psychologically bleak Films Noir from the 1940s and early 50s. You dirty rat! See? Yeah.

So, it's a year late in coming, but I finally got around to ordering one more special 50th birthday gift for myself this morning. I opted for a phone fitting and was assisted by a very knowledgeable and helpful young woman with an alto voice, that also displayed a very slight twinge of southern accent. It was all rather fetching. Were I 20 years younger and unmarried, I might have engaged in a bit of snappy Film Noir-ish repartee with this disembodied female voice.

As things transpired, however, I refrained from playing out a weak attempt at a J.Peterman inspired dialogue, kept my cool, and let her do her job unhindered. I came away with, what I think, should be a fantastic and very stylish bit of headwear. The hat itself should arrive on or before December 23rd. Can't wait. And hell yeah I'll wear it!

That's Optimo Hats of Chicago guys.

-- Heinz-Ulrich

Comments

Up North Style. . .

Bad Dad makes a friend. YMP and Bad Dad on the shores of Lake Michigan. Or was that Crystal Lake? The Grand Duchess takes a selfie in her kayak. How NOT to impress the girls sunning themselves along the river. YMP and Bad Dad kayaking on the Platte River headed toward Loon Lake. J ust back from a week in Northern Michigan in a charming and spacious house on the banks of the Betsie River outside of Thompsonville. A largely pleasant seven days despite some challenging episodes with the Young Master, who has picked up some very questionable habits and language from his friends in the 8th Grade during the school year just ended. But otherwise, we enjoyed ourselves and contemplated remaining for a few days longer since the house was available. In the end, we decided to return home as planned originally since neither my wife, nor I wanted to spend the remaining days chained to our computers in Zoom meetings from our vacation destination. I actually managed to leave the laptop and ip

Mid-June Thursday Style. . .

A nother pretty typical variation on the theme for late spring, summer, and very early fall. I'm a huge fan of Madras and have several such shirts in the seasonal rotation. Lightweight, exceedingly comfortable, and even dressy when pressed and tucked in, which is the usual way of things here at Totleigh in the Wold. Now, if I had my druthers, I'd still rather be skiing the trails in the upper half of "The Mitten" (of Michigan), in the Upper Peninsula, or Ontario. But summers ain't so bad either, and I'd look pretty funny walking around in cross-country ski attire during June. -- Heinz-Ulrich

A Lazy Saturday at the End of June. . .

A sleepy first half of the weekend here at Totleigh. Warmer and quite humid ahead of an approaching cool front here in Mid-Michigan. Perfect for yet another pair of chino shorts an a seersucker shirt -- tucked in of course -- with the usual leather deck shoes and ribbon belt. Otherwise, not much accomplished beyond a page or so of writing and monkeying around with audio settings for an upcoming podcast episode. However, I was not completely useless yesterday! I made a huge fruit salad for dinner, which the Grand Duchess and I enjoyed a short while later at the table on the back porch. The Young Master, as is his wont on Saturday evenings, took his dinner on a tray in the TV room upstairs where he whiled away a couple of hours on Flight Simulator, flying some sort of commercial airliner to some destination across the Atlantic or Pacific. I would have loved that sort of technology at about nine or 10 way back during the late 1970s, aka The Stone Age. As it is, my sister and

Classic Style

Search This Blog