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I spend a chunk of my time perusing through the digital bargain bin of secondhand sellers. Ebay, Etsy, and many more have given me enough rabbit holes to prescribe my victorian counterpart a one way trip to the sea side, and a big bottle of opioids.

And today in all of its dreary dampness was no different. Raffia bags… fringed shawls… straw hats with fringe… novelty straw hats from the 50s and 60s. Stop. Hats, so many hats… Each more outlandish than the last!

How have we come so far off the beaten path people?! Novelty straw hats are a unique glimpse into a time when fashion was whimsical and inspiring. We use to have fun with our hats, and now the most range our collective closets have is a lonely baseball cap for a sports team. My Papa is a supporter of the hat industry. Some of my earliest memories include him coming through the door like a character out of a Bogart film. He is a man that knows who he is. Which begs the question, when did we lose our fashion identities? When did we succumb to micro trend monotony? When did we loose the desire for the singular?

I’m figuring out how to throw a create your own hat party as we speak. I’ll report back with my findings.

XOXO,

Lady Samantha