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Dear Santa Claus,

Normally I wouldn't be writing you this early. I totally hate how Thanksgiving has become America's Forgotten Holiday. But I want you to be very clear on something, i.e. that the world is divided into two types of women: those who can carry off a turban as a fashion accessory and those who cannot.

Here is a list of women who can wear a turban in public: Gloria Swanson (except she's dead), Joan Crawford (ditto), Joan Collins (still with us), J-Lo, anybody who works at a Nordstrom cosmetics bar, my mother (although she'd have to be willing to put up with crap from my father), my friend Mollie, my friend Lisa B. (although I doubt she'd want to), Chloe Sevigny, maybe Katherine Heigl, "Mad Men's" Don Draper (not a woman but dude does look dead sexy in everything), Mrs. Santa Claus and, of course, iconic British supermodel Kate Moss who has already been spotted swanning around various continents in a turban. Languidly.

Kate Moss: "Whatevs. It's me. Kate. Just slouching my way through Europe in a pair of skinny jeans and a turban. Yawn."

Here is a list of women who cannot wear a turban: moi.

I bring this up because, according to a recent New York Times article by Simone S. Oliver (published Nov. 11), the turban is staging a "fashion comeback." Jason Wu and Giorgio Armani both featured turbans in their spring collections, thereby causing Joan Collins to raid her old "Dynasty" closet with a mind to show Krystle Carrington that no one messes with Alexis and gets away with it. Do you hear that, Krystle Carrington? Alexis is going to take you down to Alexis Carrington town, after which she (and her shoulder pads) will finally rule the world.

I also bring this up because I suspect, Dear Santa, you know I harbor a secret affection for fashionable turbans. They remind me of the first time I ever met my future college roommate, Donna Draughon.

The year? 1975.

The place? Durham, N.C.

I was visiting for the first time, so Donna's parents (who'd met my parents earlier) told her to show me around. Donna roared up the street in her Mazda RX7, squealed to a stop at the spot where I waited, threw open the door and drawled, "Why don't y'all join me."

She was, of course, wearing a turban at the time.

So yeah. Because I adored Donna, I do love me a turban, but I could never pull one off. As Oliver notes in her New York Times piece, you have to have the kind of confidence that allows you to "commit" to a turban. My mom has this kind of confidence. When I was a kid, she wore rings on her toes to a neighborhood barbecue once just because she felt like it.

I, on the other hand, would feel like the person who shows up dressed for a costume party, only to discover it isn't really a costume party.

Also, if I wore a turban, I'd worry that everyone was staring at me. So then I'd start explaining to complete strangers why I was wearing one.

Me to the guy who works at 7-Eleven: "I don't normally dress like this."

Guy at the 7-Eleven: "Just pay for your Slim Jim and get out of here, OK?"

So the point is this, Santa. As you're making your list, do not put "turban" after my name. I'm just saying.

Meanwhile, I hope you have a very happy Thanksgiving.

Sincerely,

Ann

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