A Thousand Words: On the Wearing of Hats, Part 1
July 20th, 2009by James Bernard Frost
PORTLAND, OR —
Every morning for the last couple of years, not long after I get out of bed and look in the mirror, observing that, yes, it is another bad hair day, I have slipped on my head a trucker’s hat that reads, in shit-brown lettering, Stop ‘N Shop, Leland, MISS.
The mesh on the hat is a particularly unusual shade whose color I can only describe as swamp–its original shit-brown, in coordination with the screen-printed lettering, having greened from overexposure to the sun. The green is sort of iridescent, like a fly. The foam front of the hat is a fleshy tan. The bill is more of the shit-brown, creased from much use.
