The descriptions I make of myself vary, ranging from “curmudgeonly” to “somewhat negative” to “cynical” to “terrorist.” But one thing that remains in all my self-musings is the fact that I wear hats, and that they are awesome. People lately have been asking about my hats, and what, exactly, makes them so awesome.

Here is a picture of just one of my hats.

No, it's not a stock photo. That's a picture of my actual hat on my actual napkin stand.

What is this you're seeing? This is decades, neigh, centuries of rigorously tested and hitherto undefeated sophistication. The bowler is the preferred headwear of artists, authors, and unscrupulous crime lords. It's also called a derby, but that sounds like a type of roller skate.

Notice, also, the feather that sets it off. Plumage, as seen on the fletching of arrows, Native American warriors, and even on some types of birds not only accents the splendor of the hat, but practically screams: “This hat is glamorous, powerful, and professional, and something died to make it that way.” Also, there's a pin on it. Why? To test for witches.

Now, let's take a look at your hat.

SOURCE

This says that you had fifteen bucks on you while hanging around at a gas station and didn't want to use it to feed the poor. There is no excuse for wearing pink plaid unless you are hunting barbie dolls, and even then, why a fedora? A panama hat makes much more sense.

These “hats” hang by the dozen at department stores like bundles of fish. My hat was kept in a pressurized case and guarded by a lion. An endangered one.

And what have you chosen to set it off with? A button? You mean those things you see sitting in jars at novelty shops that you can get 4 for a dollar? Like those “pieces of flair” on Office Space?

No, I say. My hats have been tested by history. They have been worn by both the cripplingly poor and their vicious (but sophisticated) European oppressors, and they didn't ever have those stupid buttons on them.

So next time you consider buying a hat from a gas station for twenty bucks, ask yourself: Would I regret this purchase? Does this hat look like it used to be a pair of  pajama pants? Will this look as good on me as that top hat looks on Giando?

(Source)

If you said "yes" to any of these, you're not asking correctly.