These two photos of the same woman are separated by this blather and three years. Above she's rocking the fedora and below, a Chanel-esque cloche. Even without exposing myself to the harsh glare of the lens, this blog has revealed two of my many moral weaknesses -- patterned tights and hats. I'm drawn as if by a gigantic magnet. Here's how I try to make this sound not pathological: Patterned tights and hats are just far enough out of the mainstream that, by just placing them on our legs or heads (and this is double true when people put tights on their heads and hats on their legs) it totally changes the underlying body part. Yeah, renders it almost unrecognizable -- like some new appendage as yet unobserved by science. Whoa, what is that round tufted bladder on top of your neck? With the flange-like shelf? Except in this case, I wouldn't recognize her head without a hat. In scientific circles, they call that a compliment. Here's some more science jargon coming at you -- she has perfect perfect skin.
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