Generally, when people think of the 1880s… the first few things that might come to their minds would definitely not be hats. You’d probably think of some major events like these; in 1885 the Statue of Liberty was finished, Billy the Kid was killed, the first Christmas tree with electric lights was invented, Mark Twain published “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” The Great Blizzard struck, and “The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes” was published.
Interesting, right?! Lots of good stuff happened during this whole decade of ye grande olden days of yesteryear.
But lets talk about interesting fashion trends that didn’t go away for several decades… all pertaining to hats.
Pauline Hall, New York Actress. Photographed by B.J. Falk.
Recently, I bought a book (published in 1927) called “New York in the Elegant Eighties” by Henry Collins Brown. Brown discussed what life was like back in the 80s, the different political issues circulating around drawing rooms, the types of fashion trends, basic lifestyle practices, transportation, city geography, hygiene, editorials in newspapers… you name it. Good ole Brown recalled practically everything a historical enthusiast would die to know about what life was like two centuries ago, and how can we preserve what was lost in the sands of time.
In one of the passages, betwixt the pages of aged paper and ink (which is exactly what knowledge and time smells like to me btw), Brown recalled an issue in a newspaper, who published a contributor complaint letter about women’s hats being too big and generally causing annoyance.
Edwin Thomas Booth. American Actor, posing as Hamlet in 1865.
Mr. Bill Nye, the writer, conveyed with great gusto that he obtained a tremendous opportunity to attend a performance where Mr. Edwin Booth would perform the leading role of Hamlet (which cemented his fame as being one of the greatest actors of the 19th century). To compare with today’s most renowned actor for the sake of perspective, Booth would be the 1800’s equivalent to 2000’s Robert Downy Jr., entirely perfect for the role of Hamlet and Iron Man, fully embodying the entire essence and core-characteristics of the roles each played.
Maria Theresa & Margaretha Klementine. Circa. 1880s. (used as a depiction of the fashions of the 1880s as well as the trends in millinery)
But, back to the predicament… Now Mr. Nye was quite upset, for two main reasons. Firstly, Nye had paid quite a-many-pretty-pennies to see Booth perform. Secondly, through a series of events, Nye struck up a friendship with Booth in the past, and promised to see him perform if Booth would come to hear Nye lecture (I assume he was a professor, as Nye’s personal bio was absent from the manuscript). Nye retorted in the letter that there were several empty seats in front of him at the theater, and therefore he had devised plans to switch seats during intermission. To his dismay, and DURING the middle of the first act, a group of five individuals bobbed their way down the partially empty row and sat down.
Four of the individuals were women, with enormously tall hats, disrupting Mr. Nye’s view of the great Mr. Booth’s performance! Mr. Nye wrote:
“[The first woman] wore a tall erect hat with a sort of plume on it, made by pulling the tail out of an iron-gray mule and dying it deep crimson. She wore other clothing, but that did not incense me so much as this hat, which I had to examine critically all the evening.”
Nellie Farren. 1888. From the Victoria & Albert Museum.
Mr. Nye continued to describe the other women’s hats, some in exasperated detail, and one description shocking to our 21st century ears… or eyes.
“The next one to her [the 3rd woman] wore a deceased Plymouth Rock rooster in her hat.”
Woman wearing a “Chanticleer” hat made of bird feathers, circa 1912. From the Library of Congress. (Though the shape of the hat is that from the Edwardian era, the usage of the Leghorn chicken.)
Thats right! A freaking rooster. Coming from a gal whose lived on a farm and had a multitudinous array of chickens (over 70 by accident)… roosters can get pretty large and heavy, so flaunting a big, stuffed bird on a hat must have been quite a sight to see, for sure.
Now that I have shown you these excerpts from my antique book paired with related images, I gather you might be asking one of two questions:
A question one might ask is, “why couldn’t women take off their hats at shows and theaters?”
The answer is simple: that’s just what was done at that time. I know, it’s a stupid reason. It was not the custom for women to take off their hats in public… not even at a friend’s house during calling hours (women weren’t even supposed to take off their cloaks during calling hours, to assure their hostess that the guest would not stay long).
If a woman was to leave her house at any time, she must always wear her hat. Additionally, it was frowned upon to let one’s face become colored by the sun, so the hat was a nice solution to help alleviate the risk of tanning, burning, or risk damaging the trendy pale skin. But the only acceptable circumstance for a woman to be excused from wearing a hat in a public place was if she were dressed in a full evening gown, which was primarily reserved for attending the opera.
The Accomplice by Auguste Maurice Cabuzel, 1880. (Evening gown)
After Mr. Nye’s letter was posted in a New York newspaper (and other writers discussed the issue further), women slowly began removing their hats throughout the decade. According to Brown, if a lady were to wear a hat at a theater, one might have “the indignant glances of the whole house focussed upon you.” Therefore, Brown wrote that the wearing-hats-in-theaters-trend disappeared due to a heightened awareness of being courteous of others’ enjoyment of the performance.
The second question is follows: “what’s up with the bird obsession?”
What can I say? It was a luxury and a trend reserved for the upper classes where a majority of songbirds used for decoration were those from tropical, exotic places. But soon, using bird feathers and plumage spread to the sport of hunting, stuffing, and sticking unique, beautiful and now endangered wildlife onto hats… and eventually everyone had a hat with some bird on it. Although ladies sported plumes from the most exotic species to the most domestic, practically everyone had at least one trailing feather perked upon her cap (a popular bird used on hats were the extinct Passenger Pigeons).
French Portrait Featuring A Bird Hat [J Pesseaud]. 1902. From Brave.
I hope you found this post as interesting as I did when I discovered that passage in my book, “New York in the Elegant Eighties” (second edition). Thanks! – Elise
Resources: Please see these resources for more info about the whole bird… hat thing… Hats off to the Women Who Saved The Birds: NPR Wings – Breasts – Birds: Victoriana Magazine Collection of Vintage Bird’s Hats: Pinterest 1880s-90s Bird Hat: Gale Harker Center for the Creative Arts Highlighted painting: Lady L’Absinthe