"A second example of how women have worked to make the church a place of beauty can be found in the tradition of African American women's church hats. This is a fascinating and inspiring example of how the traditional Pauline injunction that women should worship with their heads covered has been transformed into a way for women to feed their hunger for beauty and for self-respect. For many of these women who spent their days working in blue- or pink-collar jobs, or who had to wear uniforms as domestic servants, Sunday was a day to wear their best clothes and to adorn their heads with stunning hats. The book Crowns: Portraits of Black Women in Church Hats is an anthology of pictures of African American women wearing their Sunday best, and it has been made into a play by the noted playwright Regina Taylor. It was performed at the Goodman Theater in Chicago during the 2003-2004 season.
"The one who wore a hat well had 'hattitude.' She had pride in herself, a love for beauty, and a desire to wear her best in the presence of the Lord. One woman pictured in the book comments: 'I think that [putting on your best] grows out of the African American tradition that says that when you present yourself before God, who is excellent and holy and most high, there should be excellence in all things, including your appearance. It's a holdover from African traditions, the idea of adorning oneself for worship.' Another says, 'As a little girl, I'd admire women at church with beautiful hats. They looked like beautiful dolls, like they just stepped out of a magazine. But I also knew how hard they worked all week. Sometimes, under those hats, there's a lot of joy and a lot of sorrow.'
"I confess that I love hats and own a couple that I have few chances to wear, mostly at summer weddings. I did not inherit this from my mother, who had, as she used to say, the wrong face and head for a hat, but she loved the fact that I could wear them well. Wearing hats, like the tradition of the altar society, is, for a number of reasons, no longer widely practiced, even in the African American community. Most women welcomed the relaxing of the requirement that our heads be covered, and I do not know a single woman my age or younger who is involved in an altar society or who has special hats for church. I suspect that these traditions will soon be quaint reminders of the past. Yet, I think it is worth considering what these practices tell us. In both cases, women were either barred by men from sacred spaces and given menial work to do, or they had a rule imposed on them by men — both were so that women would not intrude on the sacred beauty of the church. But in both cases, women from all ends of the social and economic spectrum turned these situations into opportunities for beautifying their worship spaces. I doubt that the women who have been active in altar societies or who have proudly worn their plumed and feathered hats to church considered themselves oppressed, and I do not think that we should consider them in this way either. Their concern, I suggest, was the one that I earlier quoted from Don Saliers: that their sanctification 'touched down' into their experience.
"So when we walk into a beautiful church, with clean windows that allow the stained-glass light to filter in, with pews that are free from dust and clutter, with tapestries or artwork that draw our hearts heavenward, with women crowned with elaborate millinery, we should be grateful for the work that women have done to maintain this beauty, and for the love of self and of neighbor that moves them to share their love of beauty with the whole church. These examples reveal a true love of God, self, and neighbor, and a deep generosity of spirit that sees beauty as a precious gift of God that must be shared. And while I deplore the demeaning attitudes that have prompted exclusion and sexist requirements for women's exclusion, at the same time I celebrate the creativity with which centuries of women have turned these prohibitions into occasions of beauty and grace."
