|Hatterday enthusiast GB peruses the most exclusive fashion house in Portland|
Working feverishly to complete a sufficient number of hats for stock, I was driven by the thought my success would be soon at hand. Fortunately, my handler had a line in to a festive event where I could place my wares on a table and my fans would come by and throw endless wads of cash at me. I went into the endeavor fully conscious of how spectacular I am, equipped with impressive works that everyone would cherish as much as I do.
For two days, I sat in a frighteningly white and chilly room, populated by mulleted or poodle-permed women selling such delights as "NASCAR potholders", "scripture bookmarks" and things having to do with the fine art of "scrapbooking". Of course, all of their sales paled in comparison to the cackling coven of witches peddling their evil. I wish I could forget what they were selling, but it was difficult to when every waking moment they screeched at anyone within a two mile radius, "CUPCAKES! CUPCAKES! CUPCAAAAAAAAAAAAAKES! ONLY A DOLLAR! CUPCAAAAAAAAAAKES! OOOOOOOHHH! AND SNICKERDOODLES! YUUUUUUUMMMMMMMY! CUPCAKES!"
Wait, I lied. They didn't screech that at every moment. There were a few times in the ladies restroom or at the sales floor when in not-so-hushed whispers they would discuss the horrendously high cost of my hats and why I wasn't selling anything. I truly wish now that I had known previously to the bazaar that people in East County do not have any money for a hat that would last a lifetime and help them try to look fabulous while keeping warm, but they do have plenty of funds available for multiple cupcakes and trips to Burned Coffee Mermaid Land and the vending machines each day.
This year, I attended a sale at a religious school near my home. Every* person that walked past my table picked up a hat, commented on how beautiful/cute/well-made/stylish/fun they were, placed it back down, and kept walking. I just couldn't swindle the horrendous $25 dollars for a crocheted hat adorned with beads or crystals out of their purses. The exorbitantly priced $10-$15 textured baby hats elicited many cries of joy, but none as exuberant as mine as I came to the conclusion that I wouldn't have to give them up and could take them home to where they would truly be appreciated.
I consulted with my fashion magazines and realized that the most sought-after fashion tends to be the most unique and exclusive. And what could be more exclusive than accessories from a line no one is able to purchase? From now on, I will be making them only for my own enjoyment and bragging rights. Why attempt to get money to survive when I can certainly sustain myself merely on the jealousy of others? I did see some very plain hand crocheted hats this weekend at the Giant Downtown Book Fort being sold for even more than what I was charging. However, they are made in the exotic country of Indonesia so I'm certain it's best you keep sending all of your precious hat money out of the country either at the Book Fort, Cheap Shit Workers' Hell or Nonsensical Ancient Military Allegory.
Thank you, all, for helping me find my path to true enlightenment. I am the only one awesome enough to wear my creations and no amount of begging will ever change my mind. I'm certain of it. Fairly certain.
*Special thanks to the woman that informed me of the fact people with curly hair don't wear hats. You do learn something new every day.