My three faves:
I love it when a weave has a good backstory -- even if it's made up. After all, none of us really knows the kind of life a weave led. We're left to imagine. When a reader shared his sighting from Richmond, Va., he included a pretty spectacular tale about how the weave ended up in a pile of French fries.
Not only was this a pretty distinctive-looking weave, the reader who sent it, Rick, wrote a haiku about it. Sometimes a really great faux hairpiece inspires poetry, I suppose.
I found this weave pretty early in my weave-hunting career (Of all the great journalism I've been part of, *this* is what's going to make me famous?) and it's still one of my favorites. Simple pleasures.