Mark Twain once said that clothes make the man. I’m starting to believe that if that’s true, hats must make the woman. Twain continued by noting that naked people have little to no affect on society, and though I don’t believe that’s true about women who don’t wear hats, there is certainly an irrefutably admirable sense of hubris (untrammeled confidence must come with wearing a hat and wearing it well) and openness (to wear a hat is to make a statement and reveal private, nuanced elements about your demeanor) that comes with embracing the recreational form of headgear.
But see, wearing a hat in transit is one thing. Engaging with it outside the public domain is another. A girl in a fedora walking down the street might simply be wearing her hat because it’s raining. A girl in a fedora seated at her desk indoors is committed. To what? Who cares!
Recently, I became very interested in emanating this sense of commitment by way of a boater hat. I think my interest in the style of hat is seeded in a combination of one photo of Georgia O’Keeffe wearing a delightful felt version, and another of a model shot for Vogue Australia wearing a more traditional straw iteration.
Something about the way both women appear in these photos — delectably confident, vaguely quirky and frankly, personally styled in spite of their decided differences (one is an artist who is known for her sense of intent while the other is a model, wearing what’s been put on her as opposed to what she’s put on herself) — really stuck with me.
In my attempt to hyper-approximate the same sensation they’ve generated, I got my boater from Satya Twena and said I’d wear it indoors for at least one day. The result was a whole lot of Charlotte and Amelia not making eye contact with me because I looked like an asshole.
I thought about how judgmental I become in the wake of men in baseball caps and fedoras on either gender indoors and felt kind of bad about it. Sure, I was uncomfortable at first (I needed no shade from internal sunshine and straw is a weird fabric to sympathize with in the throes of April) but after two bathroom visits, which were decidedly comical (the stalls in our office building are Marcel the Shell-sized), that feeling subsided. So I kind of want to ask that initial question one more time — what’s so bad about a hat indoors?
Think about that while you think about these: