It was my freshman year in college when I first learned to appreciate hats. I was walking down Broadway, still too new to the city to power walk past pedestrians, when I spotted it. The outdoor market of all outdoor markets. A space tucked away from all the hustle and bustle with wide brimmed fedoras stacked from floor to makeshift ceiling. It was heaven on earth, really.
I've frequented this market over the past few years, always digging through hats and spending a bit too much time trying them on. But what I learned from my previous hat-hatred was that I wasn't wearing the right fit. Some hats are better left on the runway.
On that sunny day in who-knows-what-month, after what was definitely too much time spent staring in a store mirror, I finally found hats that work best for my face shape--a turning point in my hat history.