Everyone has something they denounce in public but are secretly proud of or own. Like popped collars and pink polos; the ones "your friend" has and you would never wear in Boston because it emits a beacon of douchery, but somehow it finds its way into your suitcase on a daytrip to the Cape.
Yeah, we're all two-faced. Old news, I know.
But sometimes you can't deny who you are, even if you try. Me, I've been cursed as being born in the 80s, that fabulous era of flock of seagulls haircuts, gold MC Hammer pants, faded blue denim jackets, and shoulder pads. And in terms of fashion, those gold MC Hammer pants should probably stay in the past. Still, I can't deny the appeal of the wearing the most mismatching colors in clashing patterns all in one outfit.
Or the appeal of Marky Mark. Or his brother, Donnie.
So on Saturday morning when I rolled into the Wheelhouse Diner and saw an autographed pictures of Donnie on the wall, I jumped to make this hat. The fabric's been lying around for a while and it's so awfully, perfectly 80s.
And no other fabric was as appropriate to make my first newly designed hat. I'm dropping this off somewhere today - hopefully to someone else who loves the 80s.
