"That's a dead man's hat," replied my grandfather, aka Daddad, who would remove his hat and look at it with pride each time someone complimented a piece of his collection of dead men's hats.
Why a dead man's hat? My grandfather, the auctioneering monument, obtained most of his collection of headgear from estate sales or acquaintances who passed away who just happened to share his cranium size.
And why not? They're not using the hat any more (so far as we know) and you just can't find that kind of quality millinery for the rock bottom prices you do when the head of the previous owner is six feet under.
"Waste not, want not" was an important lesson from both of my grandparents, and nowhere was it more apparent than dead man's hats.
As a hat aficionado, I have found myself repeating my grandfather's words, albeit with the gender changed.
"That's a dead woman's hat," I'll proclaim of my vintage collection I've acquired.
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So like my grandfather, I go out in style, with awesome hats. Feel free to ask about it. I'll tell you where I got it.
