We need to resurrect the valuable art of hat-wearing
By MADISON SEEMAN— meseeman@ucdavis.edu
Walking through the streets of Davis, I’m assaulted by the tragic absence of hats. Sure, there are a few brave little baseball caps and a beanie or two in the winter, but these are underwhelming in the face of our largely hatless society.
Hats used to be everywhere. My friends and I frequently watch old movies, dazzled by the unusual shapes and patterns of hats for every occasion, every mood — some horrendously ugly in the most charming way. My personal favorite is Rosalind Russell’s hat in the 1940s movie “His Girl Friday” — it’s so whimsically nonsensical!
Hats — which are nearly as old as humanity itself — used to be a crucial part of the everyday American outfit ecosystem, a key indicator of social status, the subject of scandals, the center of idioms. For decades it was an embarrassment to leave the house without one.
Now, everywhere I look, I see naked heads: hair up, down and everywhere but in a hat. What was once scandalous is now the status quo. So, where have all the hats gone?
Some blame World War II, some blame John. F. Kennedy. I blame cars.
In the 1950s, the average American’s transportation was shifting away from public transit toward the automotive. The government funded public projects to construct interstates and establish highways and suburbs, with the personal automobile taking center stage.
Hats — which had, in part, functioned as protection from the elements — became redundant in the face of the enclosed interior of the car. Cramped cars sometimes even made a hat more difficult to wear, unless the driver was keen on bumping their head on the ceiling.
This, paired with a wave of climate-control technology in buildings and a changing view of social class following World War II, slowly replaced the hat’s previous functions both as protection and as a status symbol. Kennedy only cemented that trend when he refused to wear a hat for his inauguration, and, by the early 1960s, hats had mostly disappeared from daily life.
As much as I appreciate my car, air-conditioning and relatively more integrated social classes, I have to admit I miss hats. Sure, baseball caps — the hat of the everyday man — have stuck around. And yes, fedoras experienced somewhat of a moment in the early 2000s and bucket hats had their own turn in the spotlight around 2020. But hats used to be a staple, a language, an art. Let’s leave the class baggage behind: what I wouldn’t give to see an earnest bowler hat on the heads of my peers.
Hats communicate intention. A sunhat for vacation, a fishing hat for a day out on a boat. If I see someone wearing a ski mask — which I do count as a hat, despite the name — I assume he’s either skiing or robbing a bank.
More than function, hats have character! A grand flashy hat for a derby, a thick, long hat for cold weather and a floppy nightcap with a ball at the tip for bedtime; There’s a hat for everyone. There are hats for the little hotel bellboy, berets for the hipsters out there and fedoras for avid Reddit users. Even the bow, which is not a hat, is a step up from the unadorned head.
You don’t have to go full top hat; we can enjoy hats in a modern way. But, just as fashion goes in cycles, it seems odd that hats, which have such potential for personal expression, haven’t quite made it back into circulation beyond a few small trends and the simple cap.
Finally, more than all of that, hats are fun! There are so many outfits out there that don’t even realize they’re missing a hat. It’s a statement piece, effortless intrigue — the cherry on top of any successful outfit.
Try a trilby, don a deerstalker, bring back bowler hats; Next time you’re going out on the town, consider topping off your fit with a hat. They’re functional, they’re fashionable and they need to come back!
Written by: Madison Seeman— meseeman@ucdavis.edu
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed by individual columnists belong to the columnists alone and do not necessarily indicate the views and opinions held by The California Aggie.
