That hat. Oh that hideous, wretched hat. I hated that hat from the very moment she saw it in the store. That hat was never a good idea. Never. It looked like a giant peacock/chicken hybrid had been rolled in mud, hollowed out, and turned into a hat. It was absolutely, positively, beyong a doubt, hideous. 

     Who could love such a hat? Who would even think of making such a hat? Obviously it was some idiot with no sense of anything. Of course, she had to go and prove that she was an idiot with no sense, because she got the horrible idea of buying it. Actually buying it! I couldn't believe it. What a disgrace to her family name. Ugh.

    Not only did she purchase the monstrosity, but she wore it. Actually wore it. I tried to tell her she'd get avian flu or rabies or something, but she laughed and brushed me off. 

     "You have no sense of fashion," she mocked.

     Me? No sense of fashion? I wasn't the one with a dead bird on my head IN PUBLIC! I couldn't believe it. 

     That hat. It could never have been a good idea. But, then again. I'm not the one with the fashion sense.