Or, perhaps it's the hats I've chosen, like this winner of a headband-hat adorned with feathers. I know that I look like a cross between a Stay-puft marshmallow man and a Playboy Bunny. I am the Play-puft Marshmunny. According to the price tag dangling down the side of my head, I go for a mere 300€.
Jen finds some that are perfectly acceptable, even a bit cute:
And a few that are not. And yes, you'll notice the black flower headband falls in both categories. I find it patently (pardon the pun) ridiculous yet oddly wearable. Of course, if you've seen what my girls wear regularly in their hair -- headbands with very large, brightly colored flowers, that they've made themselves -- you will understand that my perspective has been warped.
Help! I'm being eaten by a fuzzy Pacman!
Another try. But still, laughing too hard to stand still.
And finally, able to hold back the tears and pose in her Princess Leia winter headgear as long as she makes "crazy eyes" and doesn't look at me directly.
For walking around the streets and looking less like an American in a ski hat, Jen does buy a warm beret. But not at the Bon Marché and, therefore, not at Bon Marché prices.
And below, a headband-hat with stuff attached made for me by G, at age four. Perhaps I should dredge it out of storage and wear it, to the envy of all, on the streets of Paris? ("Ooh la la, she must be rich to be so chic. Just look at that Chapeau! chapeau.")
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