A man refusing to take his hat off indoors? This once, I doff my cap to George Galloway
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Version 0 of 1. What are the rules about wearing one’s hat indoors? George, London Now, this is a tricky one, George, because it’s a subject on which my opinion has altered violently. And this is a disaster! My God, everyone knows that newspaper readers cling to the opinions of columnists like passengers on the Titanic fastened on to the few lifeboats there upon the chopping, churning sea. I was never one to toot my own horn, but I think we can all agree that, in this world of desperate uncertainty and political upheavals, where Russell Brand is trusted by more people than politicians and it turns out football is full of corruption, the one thing people can turn to is the opinion of newspaper columnists. And everyone knows the most trusted of this breed is, of course, the fashion columnist. Where on earth would the people be without the fashion columnist there to say whether skirts should be on the knee or just below it, whether one’s chunky high heels should make one look like a frail fawn learning how to walk or like a dominatrix? They would be utterly lost, I tell you, wailing in the streets, rending the burlap sacks they wear as they have no idea what else to don, beseeching the skies above them: “Oh for God’s sake! Please! Send us a guru from whom we can learn what to wear, when and how!” Believe me, awareness of the responsibility weighs heavily on me daily, and I shoulder it like a fashion editor shoulders her Gucci coat (because everyone knows you should only wear your coat on your shoulders and never make use of the sleeves – sleeves are for proles). Thus, each of my golden opinions about fashion must – Shakespeare would say if he’d had the good sense to stay alive for another 400 years – be “an ever fix’d mark” and “alters not with his brief hours and weeks”. Some people think Sonnet 116 is about love, but I have always known it’s really about this column. Which brings us to the issue of hats indoors. Now, for the longest time this seemed like the easiest opinion on which to maintain an ever fix’d mark. For a start, I had history on my side in the form of Emily Post, the fashion columnist’s guru, who, in the strongest of Emily Post-ian terms, urges that gentlemen remove their hats in all circumstances indoors. Second, there is “tosser fashion”. But what, you cry, mouths eagerly agape, is “tosser fashion”? Calm yourselves, my naive acolytes, I shall explain. Tosser fashion, you see, is a look that alerts others you are, indeed, most likely a tosser. Truly, where would you be without me to explain such tricky concepts to you? Those godawful Maharishi trousers, so popular about a decade ago among footballers and reality TV stars, are a classic example of tosser fashion. Juicy Couture tracksuits with “Juicy” written across the arse: total tosser fashion. Trucker caps; thongs hoiked above waistbands; skinny jeans on men – I think you’re getting the picture. Another definite entry into the file that is “tosser fashion” is beanie caps on men worn at all times, whether it’s summertime or, indeed, indoors. Men who do this think they look like David Beckham, Colin Farrell or Brad Pitt; anyone who sees them thinks they just look like tossers. Thus, another argument against wearing a hat indoors. Oh, how steady and reassuring my opinion was for the people, like an old oak to which they could cling when buffeted about by winds of uncertainty. Until now. It has come to this column’s attention that a certain British politician has adopted a hat as his signature style and he wears it both indoors and out. I’m rather fond of people’s signature styles. I can’t even commit to watering a plant, so anyone who can make such a firm commitment to a style look is a person to be saluted, in my opinion. I’m not sure when, exactly, George Galloway pledged his troth to his fedora, but he has done so with such devotion and fervour that I now find it hard to imagine him without it, which is not surprising as he refuses to take it off even when indoors. Now, Galloway and I have had our beef in the past. I said one thing, he said another – oh, let’s not dredge up past broiges (to use the Yiddish expression)! The important thing is, really, that Galloway has a fedora and he’s not afraid of using it. Indeed, someone has wisely spotted that his hat is his calling card and, on the poster for his mayoral campaign, there is a giant black fedora along with the oddly un-hat-related slogan “Put London in Safe Hands”. Leaving aside the sadly missed opportunity to make a fedora-based pun here (Vote Fedora Right Man!), I could not approve of this poster more. I wish more politicians would understand that the people don’t care a jot what they have to say about “hard-working families” (how about those of us without families, who don’t really work hard at all? What about us, eh?) – we just look at what they’re wearing and judge them accordingly. Male politicians tend not to give us much to work with – suit, tie, blah blah – so fedoras doffed (and quickly replaced) to Galloway for offering so much more. I’m not sure if he really wants my vote for mayor, but I definitely endorse his hard-working fedora. Post your questions to Hadley Freeman, Ask Hadley, The Guardian, Kings Place, 90 York Way, London N1 9GU. Email ask.hadley@theguardian.com. |