Warning, you’re about to see many pictures of me in a faux fur hat. If you’re not interested in seeing this since you hate a) selfies or b) fur hats, feel free to ignore this post and move right along to more intellectually stimulating conversation about Thanksgiving and its history. It’s not boring, I promise you. I limited the history part to one short paragraph, and I can guarantee that you didn’t already know what I uncovered in my research.
Back to the hat. I hate taking selfies, but if it weren’t for selfies, nobody on this planet would know what I look like. My husband doesn’t walk around with his iPhone yelling “Hold on, the light is fantastic! I just need to take a quick picture of you.” My kids don’t say “Wait – Mom- can you make that silly face again?” No, it’s just me, art directing like a maniac, “Sam, stand against this wall, that Mohawk is awesome!” [click] “Emma, show me your bucket of beer, is that yours?” [click] [click].
So yes, sometimes a selfie is necessary. Take for instance the hat that I wore to a skating event in Bryant Park. If you’re in NYC anytime soon, it’s worth checking out the Winter Village, they have a ton of quirky food vendors, and the mother of all skating rinks:
It’s the type of setting where this happens: 
