A few years ago, after working late at a magazine in Boston, I hovered in the doorway of my boss’s office to say good night. Unfortunately, I scared the crap out of her.
“Jesus Christ!” she gasped. ”You look like broccoli.”
She had a point. I was wearing this hat.
It’s come to my attention, recently, that I have a thing for hats. Along with broccoli hats, I am fond of:
I went home and cried after this photo was taken. It was my first official night of Boston Marathon training: 9 miles, up Heartbreak Hill to Kenmore Square, in sub-zero temperatures, and I knew it was only going to get worse. My hair was partially frozen beneath my 2004 Sox hat.
While not wearing a Patriots hat, per say (of course I need to represent all 3 of my teams), this photo was taken at Gillette Stadium with my marathon training partner, Cara, in October 2009. Yes, really . . . October, and yes, that’s snow.
I’m not sure why I dig hats so much. It might be an unhealthy obsession, or a creative form of self-expression. (Thoughts, om guys and gals?) For now, I’ll chalk it up to a harmless vice to protect me from the elements this fall and winter. Hats off to October & happy weekend, all!