Tag Archives: Easter hat

The Wickedest Easter Hat: 1902

1902 Easter Hat

New York, Feb. 23.

Dearest Diana:

I did the wickedest thing to-day—intentionally! Like all other girls I know I did so want a new hat. And like a great many I know, I did not have the money with which to buy it. So what did I do?

I went down into my bandbox.

Later, with my last summer’s hat in my mind, I sallied forth to the nearest maline counter and here I bought four yards of exquisite stuff, all shirred into darling little puffs. With this in one hand I stepped over to the applique counter and bought some silvered dots. I then purchased nine pink roses of natural size and a perfect bush of silvered rose leaves.

Going home I covered my last summer’s hat with the maline, placed the roses on the top of it, at the back, letting the leaves trail down in front over the brim, and, finally, I set a few roses under the side. At the back I arranged some leaves to fall upon the hair.

Then, and here comes the wickedness, I ripped the French label out of my last winter’s opera hat and sewed it into my new Easter hat! And, now, to all intents and purposes, I have an imported creation, rich in everything except the cost.

The Philadelphia [PA] Inquirer 2 March 1902: p. 44

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire: It was the holiday dream of every well-dressed lady to have a new Easter hat. Even the dead were insistent about their millinery…. And at this critical time of the fashionable year, ladies were faced with conflicting messages in the papers: “Buy one of our beautiful Paris hats in the latest mode!” Or “Be thrifty! Re-trim last year’s hat so it looks like new!”

It seems a pity that the young lady ripped the label out of her genuine Paris opera hat. There were other options, such as purchasing faux-Parisian labels as mentioned in this advertisement for The Wanamaker Store:

A windowful of children’s hats was shown recently in a New York store with the label of Caroline Reboux on every one. Caroline Reboux, who never made a child’s hat in her life!

In these days, when Paris labels can be purchased so cheaply and affixed to spurious models, there is a comfortable feeling in buying where you are sure that Paris hats are Paris hats. The Morning News [Wilmington DE] 23 September 1904: p. 5

And Mrs Daffodil is shocked to find that American manufacturers were labelling their goods as imported, to increase their desirability.

NO MORE FOREIGN LABELS

LET “MADE IN AMERICA” BE THE WORLD’S STANDARD

A New York society has taken up a new idea which ought to be pressed. Briefly stated it is an attempt to make manufacturers and dealers in this country label their American goods with domestic labels and cease the use of the foreign label on goods made here.

There are plenty good reasons why this campaign should have the indorsement of every sensible business man and every wise consumer. In the first place the question of honesty is involved. The public is swindled by hats bearing a Paris label, when they are made here. In the second place, it is the best policy. We can make most articles in this country as well as they can be made abroad, some of them better. In the third place, it is patriotic. It should be the pride of Americans to use American names and to place upon their products the legend “Made in America,” in competition with the “Made in Germany” label, so familiar in trade. The Allentown [PA] Leader 16 October 1900: p. 1

Easter Hat 1902

 

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.

 

The Easter Bonnet in Miniature: 1903

 The Easter Bonnet in Miniature

Already the shops are blooming with cards and booklets for Easter. The usual crosses of lilies and books of forget-me-nots are in evidence, and the Easter rabbit and his friend the March hare are to be had in velvet and cardboard and candy. The jewelers will send home the costly gift of coral and diamonds or pearls and jade in a white box shaped like an Easter egg, and the florist will supply exquisite blossoms in baskets of nest-shape, made of twigs and pussy-willow, gemmed with violets and primroses. But probably the sauciest of all the Easter symbols is a wee hat-box—a gorgeous affair of flowered paper such as is used by the smartest of milliners—which, when opened, reveals a hat of coquettish demeanor and great chic.

It is trimmed elaborately and with daintiest skill, and the ribbon and flowers and bows and feathers are all very fine and very smart. Two hatpins with fancy heads are thrust into the sides of the hat, and a sheet of white tissue paper, about as big as a fairy’s pocket handkerchief, is laid carefully over this precious chef d’oeuvre when it is in the box. This pretty little joke is for the young husband to send to his bride.

Philadelphia [PA] Inquirer 24 March 1903: p. 9

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire: The joke would be on the young husband if the bride did not also get a new, full-sized Easter hat of the latest design, costliest  trimmings, and a very smart bill to match.  The expense of the yearly Easter hat was a sore subject for many husbands and it was an ongoing joke that the “little woman” would have her Easter hat at any cost.

Her Modus Operandi.

On a fine morning, when the sun is shining, the birds singing (or caroling, as they say in springtime) and every one should be happy, she broaches the dismal subject. “Dearest,” she begins, trying to cuddle up as close as possible (too close for torpid weather), “do you know, I saw the most b-e-a-u-tiful hat downtown yesterday?”

That is the tip for you to break away. If you don’t you may never get another chance.

“Ah, did you?” you ask vacuously. “Do you know where my pipe is? I’ve misplaced it somewhere,” you add very quickly, indicating your anxiety for a smoke.

“Here it is! I’ve found it for you, sweetest. Don’t you love me? And do you know it was the most reasonable price I ever heard for such a beautiful hat?” Escape seems impossible, but you venture on another tack. “Now, I’ve gone and lost the evening paper. Will you find it for me?”

“Of course I will, beautiful. I will find anything that you want me to find. Oh, how I do love you. And how I do long for that hat. It is only $39.”

It is useless. You might as well give up. You may have to work overtime for three months to pay for it, but where is there any loophole of escape? Yes, there is one. You can skip town suddenly, telling no one your destination. But if you ever come back you will have to pay for that Easter hat.

Pan American Magazine Vol. 9 1909

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.