As the characters in this comic have demonstrated, I have a bit of a fancy for hats. If I had a million dollars, or if I had only some and the opposing choice was buying food and shelter of some sort, I would still buy a bunch of hats and wear a new one for each day of the week. And people would be like, 'Oh what's Jack wearing today his hats are the highlight of my pathetic, lifeless existence' and I'd come out with an enormous pair of deer antlers on, or a Carmen Miranda fruit pile, or a stuffed raccoon (or some other piece of taxidermy) repurposed into an intimidating balaclava.
Then one day I'd come out wearing no hat at all, and people would say 'What? The heck? No hat? I don't understand! MY FEEBLE, RAT-LIKE MIND CANNOT PROCESS CHANGE!!! WHY IS THERE NO HAT?' And I'd turn to them and look them in the eyes as I'd say, as I made a sweeping gesture with one hand, 'The real hat...Was our HAIR all along' And they'd gasp and scamper away, agape with my wisdom.