I flipped through a dense line of hangers on one of the dozens of racks jammed with lovingly worn dress shirts, suits, and pants. KARM is one of the largest thrift stores in the area, and their numerous locations make finding a treasure at one of them much more likely.
Not all my dress clothes were scored at thrift stores, but it is undoubtedly an effective way to extend a fixed and limited budget.
As I scanned the clothes, my son excitedly called for my attention. “Look,” he practically bounced as he pointed at his head. He wore a small, tanned straw dress hat. Its round rim was upturned, and the crown was creased evenly across its length. The bowler fit him perfectly.
“Now I look just like you! Do you like it?”
“Yes, I do. It looks very good.”
His smile split his face, “Now, I’m your mini-you.”
Please, allow me to explain.
I have always been fond of hats. I think they look good on me, and I enjoy wearing them. I enjoy none more thoroughly than a good fedora. If I had the money, I would probably have an overly extravagant collection of dress hats. They are a great way to keep the sun off your head, protect you from the elements, and look incredibly sharp.
I really like hats.
That being said, I did not wear them for a long time. While I have always enjoyed dressing up, I have not always had the confidence to do so. I was not afraid of how I looked, rather I was overly concerned with whether it was an appropriate time or what others would think.
In short, I feared being seen and what others thought about me.
Dance allowed me to wear my dress clothes, hats, saddle shoes, and other accouterments in an appropriate setting. While I dressed more extravagantly than others, it was always met with approval and encouragement. Recalling how “dressing up” always made me feel didn’t take long.
I feel comfortable, at home, and more genuinely me in dress clothes, a vest, and a nice hat. I like how I look and feel and enjoy seeing the smiles on others’ faces when they take in a “fancy” outfit.
So, I have been dressing up far more often. This includes wearing my hats more often.
Specifically, I wear my white straw Panama, especially when it is sunny and warm. My kids have gotten used to seeing me in “my hat.”
It was my son’s field day, and he called me that morning asking if I could go. Accordingly, my morning had been spent getting ready and rushing to his school. I wore a white linen button-up, jeans, and my Panama.
When I picked up my son, he said, “My friend asked where my dad was, and I said, ‘Do you see that blinding white spot?’”
That is not the only time he has told me he located me in a crowd because of my “blindingly white” hat.
We spent the afternoon together, going to thrift shops and playing The Oregon Trail card game. Again and again, he told me how thankful he was to spend time with me and how much he loved his hat. Many times, he repeated that he was a miniature me.
It has taken nearly forty years to accept and embrace who I am. I started to for a short time when I first came to college, but my identity was still heavily wrapped up in trying to be who I thought I was supposed to be or what I thought would make someone else proud.
Don’t get me wrong, I certainly haven’t perfected it. I still think about what other people think of me. I still want to impress or make others proud. I still struggle to accept parts of myself, deal with self-doubt, and struggle with self-image.
Yet, I feel comfortable with who I am. I still strive to improve and do better, but the nature of who I am is a valid and acceptable person. I appreciate some of my qualities.
I always wondered what anyone else could possibly see in me. I couldn’t comprehend what would attract someone to me. I saw little of worth in me.
I still wonder sometimes if I am enough to really attract anyone. I don’t only mean sexually but for friendship or otherwise. Yet, I know I like aspects of who I am and can see that others can too.
Perhaps, for some, that seems obvious. For me, it is relatively new. I occasionally catch myself saying, “Well, I am good at…” It doesn’t matter how you fill that blank; my internal narrative has never included that phrase.
I do not think it is coincidental that the way my son most attached to being a little “me” was through wearing a hat. My Panama hat is a visual statement that I am comfortable with what I like and who I am. It is an object lesson of my self-confidence and willingness to see myself and the value I bring.
That is a message my son needs to internalize. I have heard the self-deprecating and devaluing statements he makes about himself. I have watched him deal with the temptation to just give up on caring about himself. It breaks my heart.
We should all be comfortable just being authentically who we are. He is deeply loved and valued for his gifts, strengths, quirks, and even weaknesses. You are too.
I pray that one day a tired, worn old Panama hat will sit upside down on a table somewhere as the anchor of a memory of me. A memory of a man who loved deeply, boldly, and freely. A memory of warmth, acceptance, and encouragement. A memory that provokes you to enjoy the gift of life that God has given you, to enjoy the wonderful way He has made you, and to quit worrying about what others think about what makes you wonderfully you.
May my Panama encourage you to be fun, creative, and free. You are worth it, and you are loved.