Hatless Jack: The President, the Fedora, and the History of an American Style

by Neil Steinberg

Book Overview

Boaters, derbies, fedoras?until just a generation or two ago, a man?s social status, if not his very masculinity, was defined by his hat. For centuries, men owned hats for all seasons and occasions. But in the 1960s, the male hat became obsolete. Just as women shed their white gloves for the sexual revolution, men cast aside centuries of tradition and stopped wearing hats.The hat?s demise has over time been credited to President Kennedy, or Hatless...

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 0452285232
• ISBN13: 9780452285231
• Release Date: November 2004
• Publisher: Plume Books
• Length: 342 Pages
• Weight: 0.60 lbs.
• Dimensions: 0.8" x 5.1" x 7.1"

Customer Reviews

A fascinating look at a major cultural change

Imagine if all of a sudden men starting going outside without pants on. (Let's for the moment ignore the teenagers who wear them so low they are essentially pantless, wearing tall socks rather than trousers.) We would be startled, shocked, confused, and wonder what had happened. Well, this is what occurred during the 20th Century with hats. Look at old photos of busy New York streets and you'll see every head covered. Rich, poor, young, old. No difference. Yet this essential piece of attire virtually disappeared within a generation. And no one really noticed. The traditional tale is that Kennedy's inauguration did it in. But this book clearly establishes that is not true. No, it was a gradual slide that picked up steam, and in my father's generation (born in 1930) completely vanished. For him a hat was what old men wore, and though he had one for the rare occasion when he wanted to look more mature, after about 1960 he never wore it again. Look at the famous photo of Ruby shooting Oswald. The old guys in authority, and Ruby himself, are all wearing their hats; the younger guys are not. A fedora today is an affectation, an attempt to stand out. Whereas, as Steinberg so vividly points out, NOT wearing a hat, or wearing the out of season hat, could bring anything from insults to assaults. I was fascinated by the entire book. Well written, well organized, well constructed. I only wish there had been illustrations to show me what all these various headpieces were. But as social history, this is one of the most illuminating and insightful looks at cultural change I've ever read.

Enjoyable Read for a Newly Initiated Fedora Wearer

I started wearing these kinds of hats just under a year ago. Having no background with such hats (my parents didn't either, I don't think), I was able to pick up quite a bit of "proper" hat etiquette from this book. Mostly, though, it was very interesting to see how JFK's dislike of hats was perceived as a catalyst for the "mandatory" hat-wearing of 50 years ago to fade.

Where's the rabbit?

I'll never look at the top hat, from which the magician conjures the bunny, in the same way ever again. HATLESS JACK is one of those fascinating treatises about a subject with which you wouldn't otherwise think to concern yourself. In this case, it's men's hats - Stetsons, derbies, fedoras, straw boaters, toppers - and the history, customs, etiquette, and practical pitfalls surrounding their use in America . More importantly, the book examines the demise of the hat as a necessary component of the well-dressed man's wardrobe. As the title implies, the disappearance of the hat from American male fashion can perhaps be largely attributed to President John Kennedy's aversion to wearing such. In debunking this theory, author Neil Steinberg, while incidentally writing an engaging (albeit superficial) narrative about America's youngest President, traces the decline of fashionable headgear back to the 1890's when female theater patrons found it obliging to remove their large and elaborate hats so people sitting behind could see the stage. From there, despite the heyday of fedoras and straw hats in the 1920s, it was all downhill, much to the consternation of the nation's hatmakers. HATLESS JACK is also a compendium of historically interesting trivia. Did you know that the Hat Act, passed by the British Parliament in 1732, forbade American colonists from selling hats abroad or to each other, as well as the physical conveyance of hats by boat or horse? Or that the wearing of summer straw hats beyond September 15th could cause social unrest to the extent of rioting in the streets? Or that hatcheck girls of the 20s and 30s occupied a social position "halfway between a sister and a slut"? HATLESS JACK cries out for a photo section; its sole deficiency is that it has none. There are supposedly pictures of JFK wearing a top hat during his inauguration (though he mostly carried it). I'd love to see one. Oddly, Steinberg fails to mention the enduring association of hats, even to contemporary times, with that icon of Americana, the western cowboy. That phenomenon could have filled a chapter all by itself. (Country-western singers don't count.) And do I own a hat? I do, actually - a grey canvas number reminiscent of that worn by Indiana Jones. I sport it at a jaunty angle on my out-of-state vacations to remind the local rubes that I'm not a swell to be trifled with.

in the days King Kong wore a hat

After he had worked in America for a couple years, my grandfather had his picture taken for the folks back home, to show he "had arrived." He looks confidently at the camera in his suit and tie, overcoat, and button-down shoes, his hand resting on a specially carved stand, on which rests his carefully placed hat. A couple years after my parents danced in JFK's inaugural ball, we left the east to move to LA. Our parents told us that out on the West Coast, life was so casual that sometimes men didn't even wear ties when they ate out. Back east, my mother, an educated woman of a respectable family, wore gloves on any but the most casual of outings. (I remember her doing the grocery shopping in elbow length gloves, although that may have been because of winter.) Shortly after we reached LA, her gloves and my father's hats were gone forever, and good riddance. I haven't worn a tie since my senior year of college, and have never worn a topper or a homburg. I barely even know what a homburg is. I had to look it up on the internet. Oh, that. This brings up my only complaint about this excellent book. Since Steinberg is recording the end of traditions, he should have included illustrations of the dinosaurs with which our elders adorned their heads. A homburg, a fedora, a trilby, what are these things? I found them on the Internet, but illustrations in the book would have helped. Especially Tricky Dick treading the beach in his wingtips. A minor flaw. Steinberg has researched this so meticulously that I frequently wondered, How on earth did he find that out? His arguments are convincing: JFK is not to blame (or rather, to praise) for the demise of the hat. If hats disappeared because of JFK, why did my mother stop wearing gloves? Steinberg analyzes social trends with wit and penetration. When you read this book you will certainly, as I did, over and over again say, Oh yeah, for sure, how about that! There are some good laughs here, too. The writing is excellent. Just one disclaimer: this book was written for Democrats. Republicans may not like it so much.

Smart, Funny, Insightful

Steinberg has written a wonder here. This book deftly negotiates both sides of historical writing: the Great Man school which focuses on national leaders, and the social history approach, which focuses on the minutia of everyday life. His depiction of the history of hats as a reflection of a myriad of everyday social issues--conformity, commerce, class structure, individualism--is set among a thoroughly-researched examination of the inauguration of John F. Kennedy. He mines new material out of Camelot to show us more about the world we live in and the world we came from. It's full of humor, insight and intelligence--a great book, for Kennedy enthusiasts, fashionistas, or anyone interested in a good read.