What I love most about Her Majesty is that she has kept hats

“What I love most about Her Majesty is that she has kept hats alive in people's minds for more than 60 years. You can't think of her without imagining her with a hat or a crown. I would, of course, love to design one for her.” – Philip Treacy

Hear these words, O lovers of beauty and form, spoken by Philip Treacy, the master milliner whose hands have shaped elegance into art. In his voice is not mere admiration, but reverence—for Her Majesty the Queen, and for the enduring symbol she embodies. When Treacy says she has “kept hats alive in people’s minds for more than 60 years,” he speaks not only of fashion, but of tradition, continuity, and the power of image to sustain the memory of an age. He recognizes that in her steadfast wearing of the hat, the Queen has done more than adorn herself—she has preserved an entire language of grace and authority, a visual poetry that crowns the dignity of the human form.

For what is a hat, in truth, but a symbol of presence? In the ancient world, crowns marked the divine right of kings; helmets marked the valor of warriors; veils marked the sanctity of priestesses. To cover the head was to declare a station in life, a purpose, a sacred duty. Through centuries, these symbols faded with time, as simplicity and modernity cast aside the old elegance. Yet the Queen, through her constancy, became the last guardian of this ritual. Each of her hats—a soft pastel dome, a proud brim, a jeweled crown—was not merely an accessory, but an extension of her identity. In every appearance, she stood not as an individual alone, but as the living embodiment of continuity and culture.

Treacy, himself a creator of forms that merge fantasy and refinement, understands this truth deeply. His desire to “design one for her” is not the longing of a craftsman for fame, but of a devotee seeking communion with the ideal of his art. For in serving Her Majesty, he would be serving the tradition of craftsmanship itself—the lineage of artisans who, through the centuries, have clothed kings and queens in symbols of their people’s dreams. The Queen’s hat, in his eyes, is a relic of a time when artistry and duty walked hand in hand—a time when appearance was not vanity, but expression of virtue.

Think, for a moment, of Queen Elizabeth II, standing upon the balcony at her coronation, the golden crown upon her brow gleaming beneath the light of the cathedral. The world beheld not merely a young woman, but the rebirth of a monarchy, fragile yet enduring. Through war, through modernization, through the shifting sands of empire, she remained—always with that unmistakable silhouette, hat or crown alike, uniting the ancient and the modern. In a world that changes every day, her image became a constant, and through that constancy, an anchor. Her hats were not trivial decoration; they were the banners of stability itself.

But the wisdom in Treacy’s words reaches beyond monarchy or fashion. He teaches that symbols matter, and that even the simplest traditions can become pillars of identity if they are upheld with devotion. The hat, in this sense, is the visible manifestation of a principle—the belief that refinement, grace, and self-respect should never vanish from the human experience. It reminds us that beauty, when bound to purpose, becomes timeless. Just as the Queen’s hats kept alive the grandeur of ceremony, so too must each of us uphold the symbols of our own dignity, whatever they may be: integrity, craftsmanship, kindness, truth.

And so, O listener, learn this lesson: style is not vanity—it is meaning made visible. The clothes you wear, the gestures you choose, the rituals you keep—these are the expressions of your soul. Do them with care, with reverence, with awareness of the legacy you continue. As Her Majesty’s hats became part of her crown, so too can your actions become part of your identity. Let every detail of your life, however small, reflect the grace and steadiness of your inner character.

For in the end, Philip Treacy’s words remind us of the sacred union between art and being. To create beauty, or to live it, is to honor those who came before, and to offer something eternal to those who come after. So let us, like the Queen, wear our crowns—be they of gold, of fabric, or of integrity—with humility and pride. For it is through the quiet endurance of such symbols that civilization remembers itself. And as long as there are those who, like Treacy, see beauty as a form of truth, neither hats nor humanity shall ever fall out of fashion.