A few weeks ago I headed to New Orleans to visit my family and make like a teenager at Jazz Fest. After lunch one day, my dad and I were walking in the French Quarter. I was on the prowl for a sun hat to spare my definitely NOT teenaged skin. We passed yet another shop window full of fedoras, and my dad glanced over and uttered drily, “hipster hats”. Well, if my father is aware of the ubiquity of this headware trend, I guess it’s time to move on. So, this year, I’m all about a giant, vaguely sixties, Brigitte-Bardot-on-the-Cote-d’Azur, floppy hat. Unfortunately, I didn’t unearth one in New Orleans, but I’ve found several excellent versions right here on the Shoreline.

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