People give me hats. I suppose I have been guilty of purchasing a couple. One was a black wool hat from a street vendor near the Centre Pompidou in Paris. I have a fond memory of picking out a hat from the Mad Hatter store in Disneyland when I was quite young - a bright pink sailor's hat. My name was embroidered in bright yellow thread. I'm sure my mother has the hat stored away in some box somewhere.
I do have quite a few hats. I enjoy wearing them. I, too, use them to cover up bad hair days. The other week I threw my hair into a loose bun, then put on a knit cap. It looked something like this:
