hats

I spent £6.80 on a hat last week; a Steve Zissou-style red beanie. This is only important information when you know that I cannot wear hats. I should explain - obviously from a purely mechanical point of view I can wear hats. A hat will sit on my head and, with a bit of effort, it can be made to stay there. They just don't really 'go' on my head. I look like an idiot in hats, any kind of hat. Straining to hold to the bulb of my massive head, Bits of hair scragging around the sides, the sweatband leaving an angry red mark on my lumpy brow. I continue to buy hats though, to piss money away on them. Before the red beanie there was an ill-advised jason mraz-cum-frank sinatra straw trilby bought 'for the summer', which this year was a monumental dry hump - cost; about £8. Before that I bought a sherpa style hat with the pigtail things on it - that was another £7. And before that I bought an oversized thick-knit rasta style hat, that was a whole £10. In the last nine months then I have spent, as a rough estimate, £31.80 on hats that I can't wear. I'm aware this isn't really that much in the grand scheme of things but bearing in mind that I know, have known for years, that I can't wear hats this is a completely ridiculous amount of money. I buy discount brand orange juice and bread and toilet paper despite the fact that I love tropicana and wholegrain farmhouse and triple quilted. I do so, like everyone else, in the name of saving money - every acid drop and cardboard slice and sandpaper sheet so that I can keep my money to spend on what I really want. Instead though I apparently hoard my riches so that I can spend on hats; stupid moronic hats with jaunty brims and extraneous flappy bits.