Weekend Edition #20: Is the baseball cap the new handbag?

(And hi to new subscribers!)

Hello!

I’d like to welcome the new readers who found me via

Sarah Shapiro

. I’m so happy you’re here! Sarah’s newsletter about the latest retail, merchandising, and fashion trends is one of my favorites, and I was thrilled when she shared my post about the unexpected red theory.

A bit about me: I studied the history of dress at the University of Virginia, combining courses in the drama, art, and history departments, and then joined the merchandising training program at Abercrombie & Fitch as my first job after graduation. I’ve worked for big apparel companies ever since, trying to figure out what to make that people want to buy and wear :)

In this newsletter, I write weekly about how art, design, and fashion function in the world. If you’d like to explore some of my previous dispatches, check out Weekend Edition #16, where I explore whether shopping could be considered a modern-day religion, Weekend Edition #15, about a tale of two sweatshirts, and Weekend Edition #13, about the history of the bandana. Here’s the full archive, if you’d like to peruse it.

Ok, now onto this week’s topic: the baseball cap!

As you may know, my household is baseball-obsessed. I’m disclosing that off the top, but I don’t think that’s why I’ve noticed baseball caps everywhere lately. I think it’s because they are everywhere. All over my Instagram feed, on cool girl influencers, celebrities, non-baseball athletes, and musicians, on the fans in the stands at the Olympics, and all over London, Amsterdam, and New York (the three cities I’ve been in this summer).

The first baseball cap dates back to the 1850s, when the Brooklyn Excelsiors, an amateur baseball team, donned a version with a rounded top with a large front brim.¹ By the turn of the century, baseball teams were adding their logos to the front, and the hat became more structured with the invention of latex in the 1940s, closely resembling the modern baseball cap today.² Fans have been wearing baseball caps regularly since the 1970s when adjustable straps were added (previously, you had to be fitted for a cap). In the 1990s, Spike Lee, the iconic movie director and insatiable sports fan, helped popularize it as a fashion accessory when he requested a Yankees cap in red, a non-official Yankees color, from New Era, the official supplier of Major League Baseball caps. He wore it to the World Series, and demand for colorful caps shot up.³ But it’s only been recently that the baseball cap has truly crossed over from sports-adjacent styling to become a gender-neutral fashion accessory, separate from its athletic legacy.

Vanessa Friedman, the New York Times style correspondent, recently addressed the question, “Is there anywhere you can’t wear a baseball cap?” She starts her answer off by writing:

It is true, the baseball cap has become such a ubiquitous item of clothing that the British milliner Stephen Jones told me they were “the tiara of America.”

The tiara of America has risen on the tide of merch (which is a topic for another newsletter but essentially means the proliferation of cheap-ish branded product - think the New Yorker tote bag.) Noah Johnson, the global style director of GQ, told Vanessa that there are more opportunities than ever “for people to declare their identity through style,” thus creating “the perfect environment for peak cap.” (They both agree it is still a sign of respect to remove your hat and sunglasses indoors or when meeting people.)

I have to wonder: is the baseball cap the new handbag? Where we once carried the IT handbag to signify social and spending status, now we’re loudly announcing our myriad allegiances and identities via the logos and words on our baseball caps. We read each other’s hats before we see each other’s faces. It’s like we’re all walking around with an Instagram bio or a Tinder profile on our heads.

And judging by my anthropological analysis, the Yankees seem to be the team we all want to be a part of. Except, it’s not about baseball, it’s about what the interlocking NY logo represents: New York City. And more broadly, America.

Lauren Hutton, @myperfectshopper, in Milan via @thesartorialist, painting by @travis___fish, Harry Wright wearing a baseball cap, circa 1863, @thethirteenclub x 2, @takethetoysfromtheboys, Jeremy Allen White leaving 'The Bear' after party

The New York Times did a fascinating piece about how and why the Yankees Cap has gone viral in Brazil. The conclusion is that few buyers know who the Yankees are but love what the symbol represents, and the comments section is even more revealing. A few choice ones from all over the world:

I just spent 2 months in Italy where Yankee caps are ubiquitous, and most people who wore them did not speak English let alone know who the Yankees are. In order to amuse myself, every time I passed one I said to the person "Go Mets!" (my team). Not one person got the joke.

(Haha.)

This is partly the reason I’m a Mets fan in Australia. Yankees caps are ubiquitous here also and it’s invariably a fashion statement. Dodgers caps aside, you can talk baseball with someone wearing a cap from most other franchises.

(So the Yankees and Dodgers have gone fashion, but the other teams have some catching up to do.)

The Yankees insignia phenomenon has gone way beyond caps here in China. It's utterly ubiquitous: shoes, coats, pants. I think I've seen car decals. What's interesting too is how it has been combined with other fads. Black and white patterns, especially checkerboard patterns, are very common, so they've replaced the black squares in the pattern with the Yankees insignia.

(Interestingly, luxury brands are struggling in China at the moment. Perhaps there is a desire for something more grounded in authenticity, versus created explicitly for consumption?)

Just returned from Marrakech. Yankees hats everywhere.

The Yankees logo is a beautifully designed graphic, and I believe it has transcended its roots to become a fashion icon, not unlike the Ralph Lauren polo pony or the Tommy Hilfiger red, white, and blue flag. Annie Dabir just published a think-piece suggesting how Glossier, that millennial-pink make-up and skincare brand should reposition itself as a cherry-red all-American girl brand. I totally agree, because I think the time is ripe for the return of American cultural influence on the global stage. When I travel to Amsterdam, my Dutch colleagues and cab drivers all want to discuss the state of American politics, and the state of America itself. The conversation over the past few years has been one of surprise and disbelief over the pervasive cynicism and complacency that has taken hold. So unlike what America has represented for so many for long: optimism, abundance, and opportunity.

But I sense a shift this summer, from politics to the captivating on-field and off performances of our Olympians (especially the women) to the resurgence of mall brands (that uniquely American phenomenon), like Abercrombie & Fitch, GAP, and J.Crew, to the proliferation of Yankees caps atop our noggins. I’m hopeful for the return of our energy, our exuberance, and most importantly, our JOY.

I’m headed back overseas on Sunday, and I’ll be wearing my (floral LA Dodgers) baseball cap.

See you next week. And as always, thanks for reading!

x Lindsay

1. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baseball_cap

2. https://www.mlb.com/news/featured/baseball-cap-history-and-timeline

3. https://usatoday30.usatoday.com/sports/baseball/2006-07-25-cap_x.htm