The beret look is a keeper for one trend tester

ATLANTA — When I was 8 or so I suffered what was among the most embarrassing incidents of my life — and it involved a cotton candy pink beret.

So imagine my excitement when, 20 years later, I was asked to trend test one of the season's most ubiquitous fashion reruns — the beret.

InStyle magazine has dubbed the French-identified topper the celebrity hat of choice this season, turning up on the noggins of Cameron Diaz and Rihanna.

With a price range that starts at under $20, it's also a favorite of this recessionista, who's not interested in fashion that requires a payment plan.

Stylists I talked to identified three types:

— The Che Guevera beret: Popped up on the side, stiff and stylish enough for dictatorship by day, Guardian Angel duty by night.

— French-style: Flopped onto the head just so, best accessorized with a paint palette and pencil mustache

— Hippie style: The chunk-knit version, this season's hit, that looks more like a bonnet.

I chose the latter style, digging into my closet to turn up a coffee-colored, cable-knit model. With a little creativity I was able to arrange it over the back of my freshly washed and styled Afro, with an abstract spray of ringlets peaking from the front.

I paired it with ash gray jeans, a graphic tee, vintage black slouch boots and an oversized vintage cardigan.

But my shopping companion really wasn't interested in my new accessory, commenting instead on my new hairdo.

"How'd they DO that?" she said.

Uh, hello, look at my sassy new beret!

After a little prodding she finally took note. Doesn't look like a beret, she said, suggesting I needed a long skirt, sandals and perhaps a generous spritz of patchouli to complete the hippie feel.

The sentiment was much the same at the office. "Doesn't look like a beret!" a colleage pronounced, after deciding berets definitely were more pizza-like.

But I liked it, and so did a buddy from back home in metropolitan Washington DC.

My knit version was lightweight enough for moderate heat but would probably keep one's ears toasty in cool temperatures. It gave my natural hair some respite from the harsh sun and could offer a quick cover up for lazy days.

However, a more traditional beret — with one of those nubs sticking from the center — would definitely be grounds for laughter.

That's exactly what happened during the Pink Beret Affair of '88.

My mom had surprised me with a delicate pink glove and beret set and even allowed me to wear my hair loose and free flowing, sans barrettes.

I had a Jheri Curl, the curly permanent that many black Americans (including The Gloved One) sported in the '80s and I rarely was granted anything beyond ponytail privileges.

Off I trotted to school.

I should've seen it coming in the way a group of little boys kept glancing at me and whispering.

Then suddenly one pounced, snatching my beret from my head and pointing as he shouted "See! I TOLD you she looked like Michael Jackson!"

I've come along way since then. But berets are still a part of my wardrobe: chic, cheap and a great way to add a little punch to your outfit, or just wrangle your hair.