Hats

Hats:

Sovay once quipped that her cats, should they learn to speak and wish to refer to me, would call me "The Nice Man in the Hat." Now comes Theodore Dalrymple to say that hat-wearing may be what makes you nice:

I recalled the days of my childhood during which most men wore a hat, and I remembered that my father, who was not always the most considerate of men, never failed, in a gesture of genuine politeness, to raise his hat to someone whom he knew. Indeed, the etiquette of hats was drummed into me as a child as being a stage in the taming of the natural savage.

Mr Johnson, too, remembered the age of hats, a gentler age than our own, when men would remove them to acknowledge a passing hearse.

I think there really is something to this theory. The 'etiquette of hats' is learning to perform traditional courtesies that are intended as a gesture of respect for others. It is, as etiquette will be, not only morally beneficial to the person who learns it, but also useful in a practical sense. It will amaze you how much easier it is to accomplish things when the usual sources of friction -- bureaucrats, lazy store clerks, and the like -- encounter the unexpected but still recognized courtesies related to the hat. Likewise, trying to push through holiday shopping crowds is greatly eased for the man who tips his hat to the ladies he is forced to push past.

The staff of Mr Johnson’s shop told me that purchasers of men’s hats are invariably polite and charming, which is why they want a hat in the first place.

I'm not sure if I've ever been described as "charming," but at least I do aspire to "polite." A proper hat, of course, also makes you look dashing, which can't hurt either. It takes a certain amount of courage to wear one, though, in an age when so few men do. Practicing courage is a worthwhile thing, even in small matters. It informs your second nature.