I saw a chap walking down the road the other day looking, unusually for my part of town, the very quintessence of sartorial elegance: polished brogues, tailored pin-striped suit, rolled umbrella. He was a modern-day Beau Brummell. But what really topped off his ensemble – literally and figuratively – was a bowler hat. I haven’t seen anyone wearing one of those for decades. In fact, the last time was about 35 years ago when a girl arrived at a party in one. Cruelly, I pointed and said: ‘Ha! Charlie Chaplin!’ The awkward silence that followed shamed me rather than embarrassed her. 

Since the bottom dropped out of the officewear market during Covid, making an effort with daytime dress is unusual enough. To spot anyone in headgear that isn’t a baseball cap or woolly hat is now as rare as hen’s teeth. A nation of Burlington Berties we are not.  

Unless you have a job that requires a uniform, hats are unlikely to be part of your dress code. Civil servants had stopped wearing bowlers by the 1970s, and they disappeared from the City in the 1980s. Top hats went out of fashion even earlier. There was a time, though, when hats were pretty much de rigueur, both socially and in the workplace. They were a signifier of class and a mark of propriety, as well as having practical benefits, such as keeping your head warm in winter. Leaving the house without one was almost unthinkable.  

But factors such as a move to more casual dress, and the introduction of motor cars with roofs – try driving a Mini wearing a topper – saw........

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