We have an inside joke in the office and it has to do with red, terrycloth headbands. I can’t really tell the story here, but I can 
tell you that the mention of terrycloth headbands sends a few of us into convulsive laughter (ahhh! church work!).
And, to be honest, this attitude of derisive laughter has really provided the context for any thought I ever may have had about terrycloth.
Until last week.
I am not trying to be overly dramatic, but yesterday I came to the profound realization that the public wearing of any garment made of terrycloth is synonymous with an extremely poor fashion choice.
Really poor.
To be fair, I lived through the 70s and I’ll admit I wore my share of terrycloth beach cover-ups and tennis shorts.
(My only defense for this admission is that, really, I was only 10 and under during that time in history . . . I think it’s more appropriate to hold my parents responsible, don’t you?)
But, last week ushered in the first really hot and sticky day of the summer. In the great city of eternal concrete dotted with limestone monuments and government edifices, the sun beats down, reflects back up and hits you right between the eyes. And you sweat to death.
As a result, everyone was trying their best to keep cool. And, I made this troubling discovery: I noticed a disturbing number of individuals sporting (you guessed it!) terrycloth.
Headbands.
Friends, even tennis players look silly wearing terrycloth headbands. What, in the name of all 
that is fashionably acceptable would cause a regular, run-of-the-mill individual to wake up one morning, look in the mirror and exclaim, “Well, I think I’ll wear my terrycloth headband today!”?
(Perhaps it’s one of those mysteries Paul was referring to when he wrote about seeing in a mirror dimly—maybe we’ll never know the answer?)
In the meantime, I can think of several alternative options for staying cool, options that don’t severely hinder attempts at basically acceptable fashion.
Wear a hat, for Pete’s sake. Slip into Starbucks and cool off. Don something light and linen-y. Buy a fan. Stick your feet into the reflecting pool . . . the possibilities are endless.
But none of them, I am telling you, involve headbands. Or terrycloth.
None.
Hi Amy
Yes I remeber the head band. It was the 70’s for you. Everything was big. Color was so unreal on TV. double screen. twin mr. roger.
It was the 70’s. But the 80’s was more in my line. 70’s more to the St Anthony’s Catholic Church school. Something I will what to forget.
You’re Friend
Will
I know you’re not big into sports, Amy, but if you watch the NBA championship series, which started last night, there’s a head-band-sporting player whose head is completely bald except for a rectangular patch of hair below the headband on the back of his head. I wish I were kidding.
Enjoyed the blog. Now to put on my sweat band and get back in the yard. I realize this is no fashion statement, but it keeps the sweat out of my eyes in the matching heat and humidity of South Mississippi.
oh how i miss you
It was great meeting you at Capital Pride.
I had a terrycloth wristband, but never a headband. It was red, white and blue to celebrate the spirit of 76.
They look best on guys with long, straight, thinning, ex-hippie hairdon’ts.
In response to Chuck’s comment, I have seen this. Not my favorite looked. My question – what is underneath the headband? Is there a razor thin line of hair?