Last week, I saw Paddington (truly a delight!) and was pleasantly amused by the ominous wardrobe choices chosen to portray Nicole Kidman’s villainy as the maniacal taxidermist. In every scene, she’s shown wearing some kind of animal print (with the implication that she made them herself from her defenseless prey) or colonial inspired safari attire. To introduce to you what I could only consider a chicken-wire netted hat (made with two joined mink tails), I thought I would draw on her sinister aesthetic.
While I remain conflicted on the subject of fur, I have only bought vintage pieces. Perhaps my rationale that “I am ensuring that the animal did not die in vain” does not carry appropriate weight, but it does give me some validation most of my pieces have not been commissioned since about the ’60s.
Outfit Details: Fascinator: Union Made | Jacket: Vintage Oscar De La Renta
For the second installment of the C-hat-auqua series, it’s getting a little funky with the lampshade-turned-hat. It really is… something. I have no idea what the correct period for this piece is (anyone want to weigh in?), but it seems appropriate for the excluded flapper. That girl who wasn’t exactly a wallflower, but certainly didn’t have that joie de vivre radiating from her daily existential struggle. I just want yell, “Girl, the reason you don’t fit in is because you have a lampshade on your head. Get a cloche.”
“All the time the flapper is laughing and dancing, there’s a feeling of tragedy underneath. She’s unhappy and disillusioned, and that’s what people sense.”
– Clara Bow
If you’ve been following me with any semblance of regularity, you’ve probably figured out by now that I have quite the penchant for hats. Specifically vintage hats. Last count put me at somewhere over one hundred, and seeing how that’s more than I can probably manage myself, I thought it only fair that I start sharing them with you (as learn to work my tripod and the time set on my camera). It seems the season to inaugurate series, and this one is no different.
After reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, I was enthralled by the idea of a “chautauqua.” At first, I mistakenly thought this was the name of the talks which Native Americans had around the campfire. That was ludicrous hogwash (what hogwash isn’t ludicrous, after all). The name actually comes from a city in New York where the origins of this well-meaning adult education movement began. You can read all about its glories here (complete with both Elvis and William Jennings Bryan (at different times)).
As for the hat itself, I regret to say I am unclear as to its actual date of conception. The style and tuille lead me to believe it was probably a 1950s number, but if anyone has a better idea please comment below. I always love learning more about hats, and really any millinery wisdom you’d like to share. Also, if you have any ideas on a name for this hat, they’d be most welcome. Right now I’m inclined to call it “Autumn Blues,” but that does seem so obvious, don’t you think?Accessories: Dress: Burberry London | Earrings: vintage