Last night I went to a party on the rooftop of the Gramercy Park Hotel called Spring Something, hosted by uber-hair stylist to the stars, Harry Josh. It was quite the to-do with a veritable Who’s Who of the fashion industry…a.k.a. cluster fuck of fabulosity. My friend Carrie and I arrived noticing we were the shortest people there and she said, “I sure hope Gary Coleman comes to this thing.” We noticed a pint-sized hipster and breathed a sign of relief. Giselle, Rachel Zoe, Kate Bosworth, January Jones, not to name drop, but now you get the gist of the crowd. A group of us were chatting when Tom Brady entered (Giselle, remember) wearing the lamest quirky “man hat”. Someone said that I should blog about that and my retort was, “I wouldn’t waste my time”. Like I have better things to write about? I couldn’t get that hat out of my head.
All morning I’ve been resisting but alas here it is. No photographers were allowed in the party, but you know the kind of hat I mean, right? It’s like a Mini-Me Fedora that belongs on a ventriloquist dummy. (See above). And what this made me realize is that the man hat just has to go away. When real men like Frank Sinatra and Humphrey Bogart ruled the style roost, hats made them look sexy or cool. Today we have a bunch on “man-zies” who look silly, awkward or worse. If clothes makes the man, then the hat definitely fucks up the look. No matter what. Hats off fellas…literally.