“Who Would Wear That?”: The Story Behind a Brocade Beret

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“Who would wear something that bold?”

When I first started making brocade hair accessories, I heard comments like this quite often. Some people thought the patterns were too bright. Others said the headbands were too wide. A few told me to stop spending time on things “no one would buy.”

I would be lying if I said it never bothered me. Making samples, planning photographs, building the website and writing about each piece—all of it was work I did a little at a time.

Late at night, I sometimes wondered whether I was being foolish. Why was I so determined to make these things?

Then I would look at the fabrics and start wondering again: would this piece make a good headband? What would that corner of the pattern look like as a scrunchie?

One fabric, many possibilities

What draws me to brocade is the way its patterns, lines and sheen reveal different details as the viewing angle changes. Some brocades use supplementary weft threads to create patterns during weaving, rather than printing them onto the surface.

The exact weave varies from fabric to fabric and cannot be identified from a photograph alone. But the layers that appear as the fabric rises and folds are precisely what I enjoy looking at.

On a bag, a floral-and-bird pattern has room to unfold across a broad surface. On a hat, its details emerge differently through the cut panels and curved shape. That is why I keep wanting to try the same fabric in different accessories.

This fabric made me want to make a beret

The idea for this patterned beret came suddenly. The moment I saw the fabric, I imagined an artist living in France, wearing the hat on a walk, stopping somewhere for a croissant and opening an art book.

It was an unexpected little scene, but it made me want to make the hat right away.

We often think of a beret as a simple, round silhouette, but it need not be plain. The Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam holds a beret made around 1943 by the Paris workshop of Janette Colombier: a purple velvet hat decorated with yellow daffodils and violets. Even as materials became increasingly scarce, Parisian millinery still showed remarkable imagination.

From the collection: workshop of Janette Colombier, Large Beret with Daffodils and Violets, c. 1943. Image source: Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam (Public domain).

Another example comes from The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. Sally Victor’s c. 1962 Mondrian beret draws on the geometric compositions of Mondrian’s paintings. From floral decoration to abstract art, the beret has long offered a place for pattern and imagination.

My approach is different again: the flowers and birds are already woven into the fabric. When making this brocade beret, I thought about how each panel would place the pattern on the finished shape. Turn the hat slightly and another detail appears. On a different person, it takes on a different expression.

I remember every time someone chooses my work

That is why I am so grateful whenever someone buys a MOONSART piece. Receiving a photograph taken especially to show me how it is worn, or reading a kind review, means a great deal.

The question “Who would wear that?” once made me doubt myself. Seeing customers wear, use and enjoy these pieces tells me that the fabrics have found people who appreciate them.

Thank you for seeing the possibilities in brocade with me.

Further reading: The Rijksmuseum’s Large Beret with Daffodils and Violets (workshop of Janette Colombier, c. 1943); The Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Mondrian (Sally Victor, c. 1962) and Japanese textile Fragment (eighteenth century).