Okay, so in full disclosure, I once was a sorority girl. Well not really like a sorority girl. And yes, I said "like" there intentionally. I was once in a sorority and I did used to wear a lot of sorority baseball hats with a ponytail pulled through the back (we're talking 15-18 years ago, people).
Something like this.
But I no longer have any sorority baseball hats. (Ratty sorority sweatshirts are another topic.)
However, while we are known to wear a lot of hats around here, figuratively, we are also known to throw on a hat on a Saturday morning.
But not this many.
Between us, we had more 25 hats.
Why? Well as I looked at them, most of them represented something to us. A memory. An accomplishment. A team. A story (and a really good story follows the last hat, I'll share it with you Friday). But in reality we only wear a handful of them.
I decided to take my own advice and write about the hats that had a story and then let go of them.
Starting here.
See? Amazing stories. Okay, so there is no story here. It's a completely blank, beige hat. And we had three of them. Hmmm. Moving on.
Oh yeah, this was back when I was a killer runner and ran in this race in Chicago. Okay, so I never ran the race. And I have never run if I wasn't being chased. And really, I have never been chased. I got this when I worked on this account in Chicago. I will admit I think I kept it and sometimes wore it because maybe people just might think I was athletic. I mean look at those guns! Who wouldn't call me an athlete?
Thrifty Molly coming out here. Pretty sure this was 97 cents at Old Navy several weeks after the Fourth of July one year. So I bought it thinking I would wear it on future Fourths of Julys. But really, I try to actually do my hair on the Fourth of July because, you know, we take photos. And I am vain like that.
Now we're getting somewhere. Lutsen is the area of the north shore where we go several times a year. I am pretty sure I bought this hat there once when I had, well, bad hair. So I'll take it back up there for future bad hair occassions.
This is my hiding from the paparazzi who stalk the rich and famous. Cause, you know, I am neither. But I did go to Aspen once. And I bought a hat to prove it. Alas, it didn't make me rich nor famous. And while it was a great week with great friends, it was more than six years ago.
I dug into Brian's hats. And promised I wouldn't make him mug for the camera. But I did find these gems.
Yes, that is dust. And yes, that is me protecting the name of the company. But I'm going to go out on a limb here and make a gross generalization. If you have dusty hats, you need to get rid of them.
Next up, while this is Brian's hat, I take credit (or fault) for it.
Again, thrifty Molly here. This was on clearance at some point. And it seemed perfectly brilliant at the time to think it would be great for Guinness-loving Brian to wear on a future St. Patrick's Day. Never mind the fact that we have three young kids and haven't "celebrated" St. Patty's anywhere but our couch in, oh, nine years.
That got us down to this. Which Brian then whittled down significantly.
And in the process, we got rid of 3 pounds of hats, bringing the total to:
445 pounds
But today I leave you with this image. Promising a great story to go along with it Friday...
