Every week a different FADER staff member will pick a clothing item or accessory that he or she has lately been spending a lot of time with—or would like to—and write a little love letter to it. We would’ve done a column on who we’re dating but that seemed a little bit much. This week Duncan talks about his Pendleton Timberline Wool Cap.
Somewhere, in some corner or cardboard box in my apartment, I've lost my boring black beanie, and so last month I went to Grand Street Bakery looking for a new winter hat. They had the usual stretchy standards—some cool olive Carhartts—but also this fancier weathered-black fitted cap. The ear flaps tuck up under so you only have to look like Elmer Fudd when it's really windy—compare the first and second photos above. I carried it around the store for a while, and when I finally decided to spring for it, the cashier congratulated me. Good salesman. I like that it's floppy but still has some structure, and it goes well with my whole grandpa's-old-coat thing I'm doing this winter.
When I visited my parents over winter break, I was pretty proud of the hat, kind of showing it off, doing a whole ear flap demo. The night we went out for Indian food, I put it behind me on the chair so I'd be sure not to leave it—it'd always be touching my butt. Then we went to my brothers apartment, then to my parents' house. The next morning I couldn't find it, and got on the train home without it, complaining internally all the way. I called the restaurant and my brother, no dice. Seems pretty weird. You never know how much your sense of a complete self depends on an article of clothing until you can't find it. Thankfully, it's not just a vintage hat. Pendleton sells new ones too, and on the Amtrak home, via my iPhone, that's just what I ordered.