But queers certainly didn't go away. In fact, the gay population continued to increase. By the time neighborhood researcher Darson Phillips conducted three months of interviews with Loring neighborhood residents in 1980, he found that all of the 71 people he interviewed said they believed Loring Park had a large gay population. Most expressed no concern about the gay populations, saying gays and lesbians make good neighbors. -- Robyn Dochterman
Fraying cargo shorts, Aveda 15-SPF, cross bikes, Yma Sumac recordings, Adidas anything, and bucket caps are the essential ingredients for a non-stop, hotter-than-ever summer jamboree among the boys of summer. Dishy dudes have cottoned to bucket caps with complete abandon. Who's got them? College kids, supermodels, Saloon groupies, and movie stars.
Besides being eminently cool, the hats are also undeniably practical. While protecting balding pates, their wide brims shade eyes from the sun's glare. Better yet, they crunch easily into your Kenneth Cole carry-on bag.
Our closets are brimming with bucket caps: Abercrombie & Fitch's number ($24.50); Mossimo's cool prize ($22) sold at Champ's, Brooks Brothers' madras staple ($25); Polo's red zinger ($29.50) from Dayton's; Lilly Pulitzer's yellow and green winner ($2) found at the New Canaan thrift shop years ago; and Tony Smith's nylon clench ($15) from To Soho.
To Soho, the hip-hop emporium at Eighth and Hennepin, has been spotlighting bucket hats for three years. But African Americans wore them with pride well before that. And the caps never went out of style at the Minikahda Club.
The cut of clothing, of course, possesses references. While the baseball cap unabashedly points toward that all-American pastime, the bucket cap claims privileged golf and tennis origins. Think Palm Springs circa 1961, the year President Kennedy asked us to build nuclear fall-out shelters, Yo-Yo's were the biggest selling toy, and Connie Francis sang "Where the Boys Are."