I’m obsessed with the former years

when men dressed appropriately and we

chose our accessories carefully.

Triple x beaver—

and a non-assuming bow.

Every man had a

grey, brown, or tan—

Even Sinatra had a slightly tilted one,

matching his ole’ blue eyes.

It accentuated a tie or dinner jacket,

It made one look great.

Used for either staying home

or a for a fancy night out on the town.


Stetson & Dobbs,

all the greats had at least one,

from Babe Ruth to Al Capone,

Haberdashery, her left arm safely

tucked into mine, as we walk happily down a

busy sidewalk in the middle of town.

The smell of fancy perfume, distilled liquor,

and lounge music permeates the air—

red lipstick, silk dresses, and crispy white shirts,

smooth conversation whispered into my ear.

Americans took pride in their appearance,

that’s what I perceive, when I buy another vintage hat,

or when I’m sitting at home in my

fedora and black cashmere scarf.

I’m breathing in the romance,

I’m sold on that time and place

when men dressed like men,

and women felt safe in the

arms of her hat wearing man.