WHEN IN DOUBT - ACCESSORIZE

I have to admit that, as a fashion maven, I'm a bit of a bust. In fact, I'd say my finger missed the pulse of fashionability by about a mile and a half. I wear shorts, sandals and tank tops. Every day. I own 3 pair of sandals, 5 pair of shorts and a passel of tank tops with a few t-shirts with sleeves thrown in for our “cold' days. I have stopped cutting my hair and I shave on occasion. I own no socks. Being retired in South Florida, I almost feel an obligation to slovenliness. Before I retired, I had a 50 year career where I lived in jeans, t-shirts and sneakers. It was radio not TV. Not that much has changed since. My pants got shorter and I lost the socks. One important aspect of the sartorial arts has, however, not escaped me. For as far back as I can remember, which is about 2 or 3 years old with the exception of a huge gap of time in the 60's and 70's, I have been obsessed with accessories. Let me clarify that. I don't do a lot of jewelry. No plethora of rings and bracelets, no piercings, no antique brooches......I wear a wedding ring (that I got from a pawn shop for $50) and a wristwatch. But I must have, at least a dozen watches. I love watches. I have one Rolex which my daughter bought for me in Switzerland for $35 dollars. Nothing like a good knockoff from the land where they were “born.” It seems so real that it got a compliment from the guy who runs a local jewelry store. I once had a real one, years ago, that didn't look as good. I sold it, also years ago, between jobs to pay the rent. My daily watch is a very nice Fossil with Roman numerals. It's quite a handsome, everyday watch. I have a box full of watches with no bands, no batteries and even one with no hands because they fell off and are sitting at the bottom of the case. I have my grandfather's Bulova from the 1940's and, no, I won't be throwing any of them out. I am obsessed with watches. For some odd reason, I am also obsessed with eye glasses. I have been wearing them since 4th grade when it was, mistakenly determined that my poor grade performance was a direct correlation to my inability to see anything that was put in front of me. They were right......and wrong. I needed the glasses but the boredom with the schoolwork had set in long before the revelation of blindness. As the years wore on, my eyes got progressively worse and by the time I hit high school, I was already semi-fondly being referred to as “Four Eyes.” If I was going to wear them all the time, I wanted them to look decent. I grew as fond of eyeglasses as I had already become of wrist watches. I am obsessed with glasses. My obsessions with watches and glasses pale, by comparison, to the way I feel about hats. That all began when I was just shy of toddler status. My mom was waiting in line at the bank, holding me and standing near her was a family friend who was wearing a fedora. In the late 40's and early 50's, men didn't leave home without wearing one and Mr. Cobb was no different. They said hello and I immediately went for his hat. I have been chapeau obsessed ever since. One of the happiest days of my life was when the doctor told me I had skin cancer and that, after my nose was rebuilt, I should never leave the house without wearing a hat. YES - Drs. Orders! I have a lot of hats. 5 fedoras (one felt and 4 straw), 3 pork pies, 1 cowboy hat, 15 or so “driver” (flat) caps and about 40 baseball caps (5 of them identifying my Vietnam Veteran status). People are surprised when they learn I have hair on the top of my head. It is never out from under a hat or cap. I'm still a bit of a slob. Some things never change and my obsession with watches, glasses and hats has just grown stronger. That will never end. However, when I end, I want people to walk by my casket, look in and say, “Nice hat!”