“Excuse me, do you mind telling me what’s in the box?” If I had a nickel for every time I’ve been stumped by this question at the airport, I would have enough money to buy my own jet.
I somehow find myself the magazine world’s mad hatter for the past two years. As a self-proclaimed party girl, I have developed a penchant for high-fashion hats, a fabulous ice-breaker at many soirées. That unfiltered curiosity stays with me even when breezing through airport security.
Travelling with a large, round, foldable hat box with a dust-proof lid as a carry-on item unsurprisingly attracts some attention from airport staffers — more as a curiosity than a security threat. Many automatically assume that I come bearing sugary treats. “Oh, yummy, cake,” I’ve heard all too often. Once the box was too large to pass through the X-ray conveyor belt.
It was a magnificent, oversized, wide-brimmed bridal hat by visionary Cape Town milliner Crystal Birch. While I had a slight panic, the security personnel were more than cooperative. Once I explained what was inside, their faces lit up with intrigue. Then they asked for permission to visually assess the contents and diverted to manual inspection. “Chomi o fabulous, neh? (My friend, you are fabulous?)” one asked. I smiled while sticking my tongue out and clocked it with my fingers. Thank God, it could fit into the overhead luggage bin once I reached the cabin.
Most recently, I had to travel from Cape Town with a giant gravity-defying hat. It had a tall crown, so much so that it couldn’t fit into any of the hat cases. So, we packed it in a large square cardboard box with bubble wrap. When I got to the check-in counter, they slapped the fragile sticker on it. After I signed a limited liability form, the airline transported it with special care and attention.
From birth, that tower has always attracted my kind of drama. A conversation starter: while curating this issue, I rocked it at the launch of Kutlwano Monyai’s solo art exhibition, “Dakalo”, at Gallery Momo. When I entered, I was politely quizzed by one attendee, “How did you get into the car?” I gave a cheeky response, “This girl had her own seat next to me in the Uber, and she wore a safety belt.” They burst out laughing. Later, I bonded with Absa’s art and museum curator, Dr Paul Bayliss, over my fantastical topper. He took some dope pictures in it. What a vibe!
I always joke that such distinct hats are architectural armour, keeping the devil away. After all, the higher the hat, the closer to heaven. Being a glad hatter does not come by coincidence — it demands that confidence meets practice and limited fidgeting. Yes, the headpiece is extravagant, but it’s less about the theatrical appeal. Avant-garde style statements are symbols of joy, art, power, independence, and cultural dominance. A few women command such chutzpah and regal authority — my style icons Grace Jones, Sarah Jessica Parker, Lady Gaga, Erykah Badu, and Daphne Guinness. They break fashion boundaries and ooze creative freedom.
The seven women anchoring our fifth annual Women of the Year issue are equally boundary-setting. They tower above, dismantling systemic and historical barriers across different disciplines. Celeste Ntuli (Comedy), Pontsho Maruping (Science), Nqobile Khumalo (Television), Relebohile Moletsane (Education), Kitso Kgori (Fashion & Beauty), Leila Fourie (Business), and Sandy Bukula (Health) are ushering in a shift in leadership, innovation, and progress.
