Hoed van doorgestikt bruin/beige satijn met bruin grosgrain lint c. 1945 - 1955

Editor: So, this hat, "Hoed van doorgestikt bruin/beige satijn met bruin grosgrain lint," from around 1945 to 1955, it's listed as an assemblage of textiles. I'm immediately struck by its utter respectability. What stories do you imagine it could tell, Curator? Curator: Ah, stories! It whispers of whispered confidences over afternoon tea, doesn't it? I envision a woman, maybe with a secret sorrow tucked behind her lipstick smile. I think this is more than an assemblage, this is a moment frozen in time. Notice the brown grosgrain ribbon--how its severe geometry interrupts the softer satin. Does it strike you as practical, perhaps even a little rebellious? Editor: Rebellious? It seems so proper. But I get what you mean about the ribbon being… angular. What could that signify, in your mind? Curator: Perhaps that even the most polished exterior hides a little bit of yearning, a subtle refusal to be entirely contained by societal expectation. It's the quiet rebellion of a perfectly knotted scarf, you see? It’s less a hat and more a statement about how the wearer engages with the world, perhaps a widow putting herself back together, with sartorial glue and grace. Who was she, do you wonder? Editor: I'd never thought about it that way. The hat seems less plain now and I am curious about its owner, indeed. It is fascinating how something so...utilitarian, could be so loaded with meaning. Curator: Isn't it though? Everyday objects often contain more of our lived experience than we realize, whispering tales of those lives in subtle shades of brown and beige.