Q: Just found myself in possession of a 10 year old 911 convertible. The problem: lots of sun exposure, even here in northern CA. So I need a hat. No point in having a car like this and dying of skin cancer. So what do you think? The straw fedora seems dated, and with no small douche factor. Ball caps seem too casual. Sombreros have great coverage, but... cowboy hat?
—Chris

A: Chris, congratulations on your new set of wheels. As we've written before, convertibles are the unstructured blazers of automobiles.

But we recommend against wearing a hat. Thomas Magnum P.I.'d at 21° N — compared to your less UV-intense NorCal ~36° N — and he rarely donned the Tigers cap behind the wheel of Robin Masters' 308 GTS. Why? We believe it's because he (and Rick) knew: there is no better hair stylist on earth than Mother Nature.

What you need instead is some good face protection. For jaunts you'll be fine with our previously-endorsed Verso #2 Day Cream. Fantastic stuff. Need to make a run for the border? Quick, throw a sombrero in the trunk and put on some Neutrogena Sensitive Skin Face Liquid. Unscented, non-staining, 50 SPF. We agree with the reviewer who says it's the "Holy Grail of sunscreen."

Thanks for the question, and enjoy the many good hair days that lie ahead.

Q: I have just inherited a family crest ring from my grandfather. How does MB feel about such rings. Should they be worn?
—Phillip

A: There are certain things we'd happily inherit from our grandfather: His 1961 Jaguar E-Type. His Mizuno MP-14s. Money.

Then there are other things we'd rather not: Male pattern baldness. An elevated PSA. His third wife Mitzi.

Where does jewelry fall? Somewhere in the middle. Jewelry with a heraldic knight helmet? As our original logo attests, we have a soft spot for heraldic imagery. But when you put it on a big gold ring, we can't help but think this is what the 14th century version of Michael Lohan/Donald Trump would have worn. And that means that on our inheritability continuum, it's veering towards prostate cancer.

Our suggestion: File this item in a high-quality ring box and pass it down to your progeny, so in 30 years he can Ask the MB about wearing a family crest ring from his great-grandfather. We'll be here.

The automobile, like the all-important domestic façade, is another mechanism for outdoor class display. Or class lack of display we'd have to say, if we focus on the usages of the upper class, who, on the principle of archaism, affect to regard the automobile as very nouveau and underplay it consistently. Class understatement describes the technique: if your money and freedom and carelessness of censure allow you to buy any kind of car, you provide yourself with the meanest and most common to indicate that you're not taking seriously so easily purchasable and thus vulgar a class totem. You have a Chevy, Ford, Plymouth, or Dodge, and in the least interesting style and color. It may be clean, although slightly dirty is best. But it should be boring. The next best thing is to have a "good" car, like a Jaguar or BMW, but to be sure it's old and beat-up. You may not have a Rolls, a Cadillac, or a Mercedes. Especially a Mercedes, a car, Joseph Epstein reports in The American Scholar (Winter 1981-82), which the intelligent young in West Germany regard, quite correctly, as "a sign of vulgarity, a car of the kind owned by Beverly Hills dentists or African cabinet ministers."