Saturday, April 9, 2011

Coveting thy Lid...

OK... I'm coveting.

My good buddy Tom Sadler over at Dispatches from the Middle River posted a photo of himself wearing a totally rad lid hand-stitched by the folks at Stormy Kromer Mercantile (say that three times fast, boys and girls). And I must get my hands on one.

Thing is... being a quality product, these hats are, um, a little pricey, especially for a guy who already has more hats than there are heads to wear them in Tom's hometown in western Virginia. Paying for a hat, in my house, would be just the push my wife needs to go ahead and call that attorney she's been threatening to get ahold of.

For my birthday, Liza bought me a portable hat rack that I could hang on the fly tying room door–it holds six hats. These are the hats I'm legally allowed to have "at the ready," meaning that she wouldn't be too mortified if, for some reason, company came calling and saw these sweat-stained dependable caps resting neatly in place and available should I need one on a moment's notice.

Hats "at the ready."
The rest of my hats? Relegated to a big blue bin that sits quietly on a shelf in storage, away from the limelight. A sad retirement. Hat Purgatory. My eyes are welling up as I write this.

Now, don't go blaming Liza for this sad, sad turn of events. This is my fault. There was a time when, in blissful denial, I allowed my hats to roam free, to wander. They ended up all over the house, randomly exploring every room, from the upstairs bathroom to the basement laundry room. They rested happily on any old doorknob, over the corner of any door. On top of the fridge. Above the mantle.
Hat Purgatory

I allowed this hat anarchy to occur, and therefore, I am dealing with the equal and opposite reaction. My hats are now in a stuffy halfway house, save for a few that are occasionally allowed outside due to good behavior.

And I love hats. And I have a crush on the Stormy Kromer hat that is adorning Sadler's noggin in this stolen photograph:

International sex symbol Tom Sadler, who wears his
Stormy Kromer hat to bed ... and nothing else. 

But, truth be told, I have an even bigger crush on the Stormy Kromer original wool cap (in olive, please)–mostly because it doesn't seem like winter will ever end around here (see the photo out of the windshield yesterday on my drive home from a meeting in Ashton). But, it's also very handsome, and, well, I want one. In size 7 3/8.

If this doesn't scream, "Give that man a
Stormy Kromer original wool cap in olive in,
say, a size 7 3/8!" I don't know what does.

But, because I can't afford an attorney, I can't pay for it. So... to the fine folks at Stormy Kromer, I'm willing to go to great (or modest, your call), lengths to get my hands on this piece of equipment. Tell you what, you give me a list of criteria and we'll negotiate. So long as it doesn't involved full-frontal nudity (and that's totally negotiable) or tongue kissing a llama, I'll consider it.

Please, kind stitchers and crafters at Stormy Kromer ... send me a hat.


  1. I am most definitely a hat kind of guy, too! So while your at it with Stormy Kromer, I will take one too. We will have our lids covered here in Eastern Idaho.

  2. Folks now is the time to pitch in and help our good friend.
    Check out my blog post
    and let's get Chris his hat!!!

  3. Mel... if I get one, I'll let you wear it fishing one day!

  4. I got a feeling this kind of pandering just might work. Maybe they will send you more than one, and, you could let me wear it both days I go fishing this year!

  5. I'm not above pandering ... for a hat like that, what's a little shameless pandering?

  6. I need one too ... need to replace my "let me tell you about my grandchildren" hat