Today, it was very cool in Belfast – temperature-wise if not culturally-wise. So, being someone who has no hair on top, I decided to have a quick look around the shops for, well, a cap. Or as they say in these parts – a duncher.
Why a cap, you ask? Well, baseball caps don’t cut it when you’re in your work gear. And those ski hats make me look all big nose. As for hats, I imagine they would make me look like an even stouter Van Morrison. Not that I’ve ever seriously considered a hat, though.
But I’ve never worn a flat cap before and, while I’m not particualrly fussy about my look, there are two things of importance:
- I must not look too much like an old geezer, eg my father
- And I must not look like I’m desparate to look cool.
But, unfortunately, it took just the trying on of three caps to realise that the one and only sure thing a cap will do for me is make me look like – a priest. A small stout priest out for a brisk walk. By the seaside.
Looks like it might be a long, cold winter up ahead.
Baseball caps don’t cut it at work
Van the Man: ‘Does my head look big in this?’
If only I could look like this.
Clearly there is an ethnicity issue hindering your aspirations.