Anyone that would pay $350 for one of those deserves to lose it.
Think you mean "Down-Quilted Puffer Cape ".
That reminds me of a line from Dawn Of The Dead: ‘The only person who could miss with this gun is the sucker with the bread to buy it.’
When the lil’wrekker was starting in Highschool all the girls were wearing MissMe brand jeans. They were around $150.00 a pair for Jr. Miss sizes. She was skinny and short and could still wear the children’s sizes. Still they were $80.00 or so. I bit my lip and bought her some. (Well, cause she was spoiled, If you must know.) She did wear them for 2 years. And had cool shorts the 3rd year. They were wanning in popularity by the time she wore 2 pair out. She never did really grow out of them, got a tad taller is all. Girl likes her fad fashions.
There’s no way I’d buy a knit cap for that price. It’s not even open to discussion.
We bought our daughters clothes at JC Penney. They wanted stuff from LL Bean and The Gap. But we were already buying nice stuff. Walmart would have been cheaper but we understood our daughters need to fit in with their peers.
That was no beanie…that was a whoopee cap, made from the crown of an old felt hat, with the brim removed, bottom half flipped up, and clipped in a spiffy zig-zag pattern.
Here’s an example of one spotted in the wild by Shorpy. The wearer of that particular whoopee cap looks like he recently had to address some criticism about his choice of headgear.
I always thought a beanie hat was a kind of beret.
As said above the kids call stocking caps ‘beanies’ now-a-days.
I always thought a beanie was a large yarmulke type of thing.
My evidence is Stretch Cunningham’s funeral, when Archie had to give the eulogy, and Edith jammed the yarmulke on Archie’s head while saying, “Don’t forget your beanie!”
When I was a classroom teacher, elementary grades, I always said in my initial letter home to families: “Don;t have your child bring anything to school that has much monetary or sentimental value, as it WILL get lost.”
That didn’t prevent kids from bringing in a variety of personally-important and sometimes-expensive items, all of which–whaddaya know–DID get lost.
The trickiest one I remember was the second grader who brought in a binder full of Pokemon cards. He put the binder into his cubby and left it there for about three days, getting them out to show them off every snack and lunch period. He and his buddies would slide the cards in and out of their sleeves and admire them (they never actually played a game with them). After three days it had gotten too much–kids weren’t focusing on reading because they were too excited about Andrew’s Pokemon cards!–so they went home…whereupon Andrew realized that his SPECIAL Pokemon card, the one that was worth TWENTY DOLLARS, was gone and clearly SOMEONE HAD SWIPED IT. And what, he demanded the next day, was I going to do about it?
I told him that I was sorry the card had gone missing, and that I was sorry that he had chosen to bring in a card that was that important to him in the first place. And I told him that saying that someone had stolen it was a pretty strong thing to say and I wondered if he had left it somewhere or dropped it or something? And I helped him rummage through his cubby and look on the floor and in a couple of other places where a card might have gone during a “vacation” at school. And…nothing.
I thought it was over. The next morning, though, Andrew came in with his mom , who–without saying anything to me–began rummaging through all the other kids’ cubbies. “What’s going on?” I asked when I became aware of it.
“Andrew says somebody stole his most valuable Pokemon card,” she explained, “and I’m looking for it.”
Lordy, lordy. I told her she needed to stop. Which she did. Reluctantly. I told her I would ask the kids if anyone knew about it, or if they had it “by mistake.” She agreed. Reluctantly. She left the room. She may have come back after hours to rummage through the remaining cubbies. I don’t know. I do know the card was never found.
If we’re going to invest this much angst into a twenty-dollar Pokemon card, I can only imagine the drama surrounding a $350 hat.
Fool of a touque!
(they’ve always been beanies to me)
I don’t get it. The entire point to conspicuous consumption is to advertise: I’m so rich that I can afford to waste money on stupid crap.
But the message is entirely lost when you then whine about your kid losing that item, whether it’s the latest iPhone or some dumb hat. The social signal is now that you can’t afford to waste money at all; that in fact you were just trying to game the system by pretending you were rich enough to waste money on clothes. You’re just some poor schlub with a handful of maxed-out credit cards.
The only right solution is to buy the kid a $500 hat when he loses the $350 one. And give the kid only the tiniest of rebukes: *now Johnny, you can’t go losing your clothes like this. You will make your friend Sam feel bad; he could have bought two hats for the price of one of yours. *
Well, either that, or don’t buy your kid the fucking hat in the first place.
When I was in middle school, my hats were the cost of the yarn to make them, plus the cost of about 20 minutes worth of labor (my mom crochets really fast).
Well-played!
Crap. I liked my long blond, blown-out locks too much to even think of a tight cap, beanie, or whatever on my head as a teen. Oh, no that’s not gonna happen.
How old are you? Calling those wool hats beanies is a fairly recent thing. A real beanie looks like this:
https://archon.wheaton.edu/index.php?p=digitallibrary/digitalcontent&id=5790
or this:
https://www.collectableivy.com/duke-university-freshman-beanie-hat/
What did your son get?
I don’t have a son. I have two daughters in college. They buy their own clothes now.
It did get expensive in middle school and high school. I can’t imagine paying premium prices for designer stuff. JC Penney’s stock is expensive enough.
There’s a reason it’s on Fox News.
Forty-eight. And Australian 
Australian beanies in the’40s
Australian beanies in the '60s
Are we ahead of the curve for once? Or is my recent just more recent than your recent?
I’m so glad I went to school before “fashion” became a big issue for children. Except for a few rich girls (also the only ones who had perms or highlights), everyone wore jeans and a tee shirt or button-up. And I’m not talking Levis or designer tee shirts.