One of the most heartbreaking phrases of the fashion world is “I’m just not a hat person” – second only perhaps to “Isn’t Vinted just old stuff?”, but that’s for another article. Such an utterance would almost never be heard in the early 20th century – a utopian age for headwear where both men and women alike donned an impressive range of bowler hats, flat caps, fedoras and pillboxes, as well as various others with increasingly strange names. What would old Hollywood be without Hepburn’s oversized black sun hat in Breakfast at Tiffany’s or Sinatra’s iconic trilby? Originally created for functionality, hats later became linked to profession, and thus social status. In fact, hat wearing was such an essential part of dressing in the pre-WWII era that it would have been considered embarrassing to leave one’s home without your signature cloche, beret or pork-pie hat.
“What would old Hollywood be without Hepburn’s oversized black sun hat in Breakfast at Tiffany’s or Sinatra’s iconic trilby?”
So why now is it such a momentous occasion to sport one? Today hats are (for the most part) seen only at the races, raves and military revivals – prompting us to ask “What killed the casual hat?”
There exists a number of very sad reasons for the gradual disappearance of the millinery craze, one being the move to more casual dressing pioneered by the young post-WWII, and another being the resurgence of voluminous up-dos in the 1960s (which would’ve made a flat cap… well, not flat).
However, the hat has not been lost forever. Since WWII there have been various revivals: the Kangol hat came with the hip-hop craze of the 1990s, the bucket hat (love them or hate them) came bursting onto the rave scene in the 2000s, and the recent beret comeback brings with it a focus on a certain European chic.
Locally speaking, a recent production at the Corpus Playroom giving hats the spotlight they deserve is Far Away, written originally in 2000 by Caryl Churchill, and today directed by Enya Crowley. For the performance, a plethora of outlandish hats were commissioned and created by Crowley’s talented costuming team. The hats on display are incredibly striking, with an unconventional mixture of textures, shapes, and dimensions. They are united by one common theme – an inherent absurdity.
I was fortunate enough to speak with Crowley in order to gain more insight into this novel labour of love. They began by explaining that the concept of the hats was actually written into the play itself, and in fact key to the messages of distraction that the work confronts. However, the creative brief was – well, brief – with stage directions simply calling for headwear that is “Even more enormous and preposterous.” This then left Crowley with the freedom I’m sure all directors dream of – as they advised the costuming crew to “Go crazy.”
Such a battle cry gave way to an impressive collection of pieces with momentous visual impact: one in particular appearing onstage was an austere skeletal wire construction, mimicking a bird cage which even featured a miniature songbird suspended inside. Another was a tiered hat reminiscent of a wedding cake, which gradually built up as the act progressed.
Others were displayed in an eye-catching video projected onto the back of the stage. The sequence featured various striking interpretations of headwear paraded in front of a brutalist background. The designs ranged from a dinosaur looking skullcap emblazoned with “I’M THE BOSS,” to a comically oversized pirate hat plastered with Union Jacks in a Vivienne Westwood-esque frenzy. In my conversation with Crowley, the favourite appeared to be a gothic black cowboy hat, featuring a high heeled shoe dripped with candle wax, almost calling to the signature melted wax head decorations of the genius designer Leigh Bowery.
The curation of these wearable works of art is an important one. In keeping with the production’s themes of climate crisis, it was important to Crowley to ensure that this didacticism translated into their eco-friendly creative process. During the interview they detailed the various second hand sources of materials used for the hats: old posters; an entire antique lampshade to create the (you guessed it) lampshade hat that’s equally brilliant as it is hilarious; and old wire containers used for the folklorically-whimsical daffodil hat.
Crowley went on to describe the enjoyment in ‘foraging’ (a term any charity shop or kilo-sale warrior knows all too well) for engaging stimuli that would give fascination and allure to these pieces. This second hand DIY spirit is something that all fashion fans should embrace when scouting for their next ensemble. For example, interesting fabric offcuts can be easily turned into patchwork applique for denim, and with a little knowhow old posters or magazines can become fabric transfers.
Despite the obvious novelty of such hats and, indeed, my excitement upon seeing the medium of headwear utilised in such an ingenious manner, it prompted me to ask “Why hats?”
“Hats grab attention, giving the impression that the wearer is fashion conscious, confident in their sense of style, and keen to stand out from the crowd”
Crowley informed me that Churchill chose to harness hats within the narrative due to how impactful they can be as a visual medium. It’s precisely because of this impact that I always suggest anyone looking to feel put-together and all round chic to try one out. Sure to make an occasion out of any errand, hats grab attention, giving the impression that the wearer is fashion conscious, confident in their sense of style (even if you’re not) and keen to stand out from the crowd. Just find the style that makes you feel fab.
As I marvelled (as any fashion fan would) at the colourful amalgamations of textures, wire, satin, paper, natural motifs and so much more, Crowley reminded me of the irony of such a reaction. In fact, upon having the opportunity to see the performance, I realised the function of the hats within the narrative not solely as explorations of the limits of couture, but primarily as distractions designed to capture our intrigue.
In today’s world, it’s certain that hats exist to fascinate, embellish, and make an outfit just that bit more unique. So following Far Away, here’s to a Cambridge hat revival (perhaps without the killer deer).
Photographer: Amika Piplapure
Fashion Shoot Coordinator: Holly Hardman
Models: Joanne Yau, Abi Beton, Enya Crowley, Emily Shelley, Sami Firdose
Hat designers: Joanne Yau, Clotilde Dumont, Abi Beton, Olivia Pearson, Lizzie Caird, Chloe Jacob, Helen Lyster
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