Life without a roof means a life in the sun, and with it, the melanoma that flesh is heir to. This, I suppose, is why most hobos, tramps and bums are ordinarily pictured in haberdashery. Although not ordinarily a clothes horse, I would hate to break a long standing tradition. So, I am in search of a suitable chapeau.
Chaplin - and most of the Keystone tramp comics - favored the bowler as the symbol of crumbled prosperity, while the Depression era hobos tended towards the ubiquitous fedora. In modern times, the hoodie and baseball cap combination has been the downtrodden's choice.
I've never been one to follow the crowd, and as I have already laid claim to the bum moniker "The Professor" for this Depression (imitators, take note - ®), I think I need to choose more in keeping with my position in the hobo community as the smartest bum on the block.
I've become partial to the Henschel Breezer, in earth tones to hide the dirt. Old-school collegiate hatband, with a wide 2.5-inch brim to keep the radiation at bay, the hat holds its style well while still looking capable and suitably "outdoorsy."
Admittedly, my first choice would have been a classic fedora, but I'm afraid that with my khakis and messenger bag, people would mistake me for a bloated Indiana Jones.
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