My Grandfather’s Hat
Mr. Rupert Constantine Walker, aka Smalls, aka Grandad.
Despite being paralyzed from the neck down, after a near-death car accident, my Grandfather always smiled, laughed, sang, shared stories, and told jokes. He was constantly dressed elegantly, dapper from head to toe (like most Jamaican men in the 50s and 60s). Regardless of the occasion, he believed in carrying himself and his family's name in high esteem. My Grandfather was a real character, he knew everyone, and everyone knew him (even the late Queen of England). In addition to his joyful personality, my Grandfather was known for his extensive collection of hats. There was one hat in particular that I just loved as a child. It was this beautiful 1940s dark black rabbit fur felt trilby, with black bounding on the edge of the brim. He purchased this hat while traveling across America and would write his full name and address inside all his brimmed hats under the leather sweatband, hoping that if he ever lost his hat, a unique individual would return it. As a child, I always thought it was interesting how much faith my Grandfather had in others. He always saw potential in you regardless of where you came from or who you were.
A hat has the power to transform a whole outfit. A hat is a statement piece, you'll always notice the hat first when someone is walking toward you, and even after reading this story, you too will start to notice hats more. Growing up, I always saw my Grandfather wearing hats. I love that without the hat, he was just Granddad, but with the hat, he became this cool superhero. His collection was so vast that he could wear a different hat daily. I spent most of my childhood with my grandparents and would always find myself playing dress-up in my Grandfather's wardrobe. He always smiled and promised to give me a hat when I was older. True to his word, my Grandfather did indeed gift me a hat. I was around 18, and it was just before he passed when he gave me his beautiful 1940's dark black rabbit fur felt trilby, with the black bounding on the edge of the brim, yes, the same hat I used to play dress-up with as a child, it fitted me like a glove. My perception of headwear changed that day. I began seeing hats as more than just a fashion accessory. Hats became a part of my character and an excellent tool for helping me cope with my Grandfather's loss. Wearing hats, for me, isn't about fashion. It holds a more personal, sentimental attachment for me. I feel like he's still with me when I have a hat on.
This one hat given to me by my late Grandfather has opened many doors. I have single handily disrupted the creative industry, using just a hat as my catalyst. I implemented the first hat-focused social platform in 2012, which led to me partnering with Mark Harris at The Hatterist. I have traveled the world with HatsOnly and have advised and collaborated with some of the world's most iconic hat brands. I remain curious and find new ways to bridge the hat world with other creative industries, such as music with past collaborations, including Grammy-award-winning artist Erykah Badu.
It's funny. I never thought this love for hats passed down by my Grandfather would impact my life and creative journey, but I am glad it did.
Every hat tells a story. What's yours?
