Joanna has realised that, in all her costume blogs, she hasn’t included bonnets or hats…
It’s not that long ago that no lady (or gentleman, for that matter) would go out without wearing a head-covering of some kind. No one questioned the need for hats, caps and bonnets.
When Sarah Siddons sat for her 1785 portrait, she was wearing a hat. With feathers. Of course, she was. And it looks splendid, don’t you think?
If you look closely at the 1894 image below, you’ll see that most of the spectators are children and almost all of them are wearing caps or hats. Back in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, there was no question of not wearing a hat or bonnet or cap.
And that continued into the twentieth century. Hats, cloches, flat caps, trilbies. They’re all there in this coach party image. The dog is hatless, though 😉
After the Second World War, the widowed mother of one of my school friends managed to support two children by running a hat shop. Selling nothing but hats was enough to provide a living for three. But it wasn’t going to last.
In the 1960s and 1970s, the younger generation began to rebel. They might (possibly?) be persuaded to wear a hat if they were going to church on Sundays but, apart from that, it was bare heads all the way. So an age divide emerged: the older generation (men and women) still wore hats; the younger ones didn’t.
19th century simple straw bonnets
None of the images above is from the first half of the 19th century. Certainly not from the Regency, which is a period that readers tend to love. I’m one of those.
So I shall now indulge myself. Do join me…
In the first decades of the nineteenth century, gowns were simple, on the classical, vertical style. Hats and bonnets initially tended to be simple, too. If you recall the BBC’s famous Pride and Prejudice series, you may remember that the Bennet girls tended to wear simple straw bonnets which they could decorate themselves. (Bonnets, generally, tie under the chin. Hats usually have no ties and can be anchored with hatpins.)
Above are images of classic straw bonnets with ribbons from the Hereford costume collection.
Less simple bonnets?
And below is a (rather clearer) image of a straw bonnet from the collection at the Victoria & Albert Museum, London. You can see that the crown is a lot narrower and taller and the brim is wider.
The V&A bonnet (left) may be of later date. I can’t be sure. The V&A dates it to 1800-1850, which is a wide range.
Below is another V&A straw bonnet, though this one has particularly splendid weaving. The description says it’s made of twisted straw with ribbon trim. It’s again dated to the first half of the 19th century.
And this close bonnet, from the Hereford Collection, is of Leghorn straw. The weave is so fine that it doesn’t look like straw at all, until you look very closely. [Click to enlarge.] Imported Leghorn straw bonnets competed with those made in Dunstable and probably cost more. This bonnet looks to me to be much more expensive than the first two shown above.
Regency hats and bonnets were always simple?
It’s probably wrong to assume that simple hats and bonnets were de rigueur with the simple Regency dresses. C Willett Cunnington says this in relation to hats and bonnets in the period from 1800-1821:
“Some attempt was made to restrain them during the pure classical period (1800-1803) when they were a least small and insignificant, while from 1804 to 1807 they tended to be large but broad so as to preserve an appearance of proportion. As the classical spirit became debased (1808 to 1810) hats flattened in the crown, and as the gothic taste grew, from 1812 onwards, they shot up into the air with extraordinary exuberance; after ascending, tall and narrow (1812 to 1816) they exploded like a rocket into a halo of brim and feathers (1817 to 1821).” [English Women’s Clothing in the 19th Century]
So essentially, the sky was the limit when it came to hats and bonnets. Especially when the wearer did the trimming. Remember Lydia Bennet talking about a bonnet she had trimmed and then hated?
Straw bonnets like the ones shown above could be endlessly varied by changing the ribbons or adding extras. This is an example which might have been home-made (though the V&A doesn’t say that). It’s described as English and a “plaited straw poke bonnet trimmed with satin ribbon and floral decorations.”
Jemima Puddleduck wore a poke bonnet, didn’t she?
And what, you may ask, is a “poke”?
On that subject, opinions seem to vary. Some state that the “poke” was the part of the bonnet into which the wearer poked her hair so that it was concealed. Others argue that the “poke” was the brim because it poked out in front of the wearer’s face.
The V&A (which should be the authority, surely?) describes this 1820 bonnet as “dark blonde straw bonnet with high poke and wide brim, trimmed with a band of brown silk ribbon around the poke, accented with wired bows in the same, matching the silk ribbon strings”.
So the “poke” is the crown, yes?
Well, not necessarily. Here is another V&A image, again of an 1820 bonnet. Description: “black beaver bonnet with a round crown, wide poke brim lined with black satin and bound with silk, and a band of black velvet with a bow…”
Uh, right. So the “poke” is the crown in one bonnet and the brim in another?
I had always assumed it was the latter but now I’m not so sure. Maybe you have a definitive answer? If so, please share.
And to conclude this inconclusive section on poke bonnets, I can’t resist showing you a wonderful French cartoon on the subject. It’s entitled “Les Invisibles en tête-à-tête.”
Bonnets and hats could be (or could seem) more modest…
This bonnet goes back to the early years of the 19th century. The V&A dates it to 1805-1810. It looks modest and simple. The style was drawing on ideas from the classical world, with emphasis on clean lines and hair worn close to the head. It’s made of bands of plaited straw alternating with cream silk. The fabric is gathered to fit closely to the back of the head. This shape is often called “coal scuttle”.
The coal scuttle shape was worn for decades. (It was also associated with the Quakers.) This is a coal-scuttle wedding bonnet, dated to 1845, made of silk net on a cotton foundation, trimmed with bands of white silk crepe and sprays of artificial orange blossom.
Unfortunately, I don’t have a precise date for this simple silk coal-scuttle bonnet, from the Hereford Costume collection. It has a Quaker look, don’t you think?
Exploded like a Rocket into a Halo of Brim and Feathers (Cunnington)
Cunnington was talking about the George III period, which ended in 1821 and encompassed the Regency. I have quite a few to show you which I’d say merit that description (apart from feathers), but they are dated later, around 1830.
This black bonnet is certainly an explosion: huge crown, huge brim, masses of ribbon trimming. It’s straw covered in black velvet which has faded to dark brown, though its ribbons remain black with zigzag ends.
Below is a rather more modest-looking affair, in pink silk. It’s nothing like as modest as it looks, though. The silk is gathered onto narrow bands of whalebone inserted in tucks in the brim and round the crown. There is wire stiffening in the brim itself. There are bows on the back of the crown above the neck frill. The milliner who made this bonnet spent a lot of time getting it exactly right.
Another explosion.
The V&A describes this bonnet thus: “pale yellow silk bonnet with a large wide ruched and caned brim and high poke. Trimmed with wide ribbons of yellow silk gauze with opaque satin stripes and wired shapes of silk with bound edges.”
Yes, quite. And, to see it in all its glory, click to enlarge. It’s really worth a closer look.
It’s certainly huge but also, I’d have said, flattering to the wearer in the way it frames the face and shows off her curls. Probably very expensive to buy?
You will notice that the yellow and red gown (chosen by the V&A to match the bonnet) shows the gigot sleeves and lower waistline typical of 1830s fashions.
And finally…
This green confection, from the Berrington Hall Costume Collection is slightly out of focus—apologies for that—but it’s too glorious to miss. Imagine wearing a hat like this…
Do you mourn the demise of hats and bonnets? Would you dare to wear any of these? Perhaps to Ascot, or a Buckingham Palace Garden Party, assuming you go to those… 😉
[For the avoidance of doubt: unattributed images from the Hereford Costume Collection and the Berrington Hall Collection are my own. Images from the Victoria & Albert Museum, London, are used with permission.]