Manny, the vegetable stall geezer outside our shop, was wearing a beret yesterday. Manny is a great cockney patriot. When the French market comes to visit Lower Marsh he gets a huge George cross flag out and drapes it over his stall. So I was a little surprised to see him in French national dress.
"French market today is it Manny?"
"Eh? Where!" he's looking about, ready for war.
"Your hat Manny..."
"Oh that" he laughs "I was just fuc*in' cold!"
Then this morning I was down at Scooterworks with the other early morning coffee junkies huddled around the famous Scooterworks machine. Graham from the second-hand bookshop over the road was there. He didn't recognise me until I said hello.
"Oh hello - I din't see you there in that hat!" big piss-take grin on his face.
I had to explain that I bought the hat on holiday in France under pressure fom my wife who was worried about the increasingly hard to ignore bald spot on my head catching fire or something. I still wear it now because it reminds me of cycling to fetch baguettes and pastries from the closest village on sunny/misty mornings when only the cows were awake.
Hats eh? Do you have a favourite? Does it provoke comment?