Akubra was in the news recently when the iconic, 147 year old Australian hat company was bought by Andrew 'Twiggy' Forrest and his ex-wife Nicola. But there were a few important pieces of information missing from all the associated media hoopla.

The thing is, what makes Akubra hats so great is that most are made from rabbit fur. About 12 rabbits are needed to make an average Akubra, more for a bigger one like the Sombrero style popularised by 'bush tucker man' Les Hiddins. As the family hat company expanded and travelled from its origins in Tasmania to Sydney and then Kempsey, introduced rabbits were also spreading in plague proportions across the country, so it made perfect sense to make something useful out of their fur. During the Great Depression, rabbits kept many families alive.

After myxomatosis was introduced here in 1950, and then calicivirus in 1996, Australian rabbit populations crashed, which meant Akubra had to start sourcing pelts from overseas. The last time they made any data publicly available, in 2014, all their rabbits were being farmed and 'processed' in places like France, Ukraine and Belgium, countries with even worse animal welfare laws than Australia.

Making matters worse, only the soft belly fur of the rabbits is really suitable for making hats. What happens to the rest of the animals?

Up rode the squatter

My own association with Akubra started in 1986, when my sister kindly gave me a charcoal grey Squatter. This is a remarkable, somewhat obscure style of Akubra, light but firm, cool in summer and warm in winter, keeping its shape unless seriously mistreated, and able to look equally at home on an international red carpet, paired with a suit, or worn in the most casual of situations. The brim is broad enough to be practical, but not so broad to be ridiculous. Instead of a leather exterior band, it has a ribbon sewn on, perfect to carry a feather or two.

Like all Akubras, the Squatter is uniquely shaped to its owner's personality, initially with steam, and then less intentionally via whatever happens to it next. After three or four years, the hat gets too saggy and holey to be useful except as a stage prop, and then you need to buy another one.

I've had a series of them, all the same size, mostly charcoal grey. Once I had a black Squatter, which was somehow too black, and another time a brown one. I wasn't too sad when I accidentally left that hat on top of a car and it was never seen again. Occasionally, the company has tried to lure the likes of Gina Rinehart by making red and blue versions.

You can't just walk into a shop and buy an Akubra Squatter, even from the shop closest to the factory in Kempsey – I've tried. You need to order it, well in advance, and wait. These things are custom made, by hand, and they're not cheap. With so much invested in the hat, it's not surprising that many Squatter wearers become lifelong adherents.

When I became a vegan, I kept wearing these hats, long after I'd ditched the cheese, leather shoes, wallet and belt. After decades, the Squatter was woven into my identity, and had become something of a blind spot, although I knew how they were made.

Then and now

In the past, almost everyone in Australia wore a hat, long before anyone had heard of skin cancer or vegans. Man or woman, if you went out of the house without a hat, then you weren't properly dressed. Akubra became a behemoth as they supplied thousands of slouch hats to the Australian Army (they still have the contract). That's an awful lot of rabbits.

When fashions changed, fictional characters like the Man from Snowy River and Crocodile Dundee kept Akubra alive, with the iconic hats even featuring in the opening ceremony of the 2000 Sydney Olympics. Somehow, Akubra and Australia had become the same thing. Invasive pests weren't all they had in common. The two legends had somehow melded.

Now, in the cities at least, if you wear a hat and you're a man, people are likely to assume you're going bald, as I did at an unusually young age (my mother assumed the Akubra must be responsible, but in fact it was stress from film school). If you're a woman, and not at the beach, people might wonder if you have cancer. Flamboyant hats are mostly associated with weddings and race meetings.

Even in the country, many Australian farmers now favour American style caps and hats rather than traditional Akubras, but the iconic status of the hat remains. Twiggy's purchase of the company, along with another bush fashion icon, R.M. Williams, suggests he believes these items have export potential for people wanting a little piece of Australia that's not a lump of coal or iron ore.

Hypocrisy and invisibility

As an annoying vegan, now that I've got beyond my earlier hypocrisy and can't look at myself in the mirror with an Akubra on, much as I love them, there have been a few unexpected side effects. The main one is that people who have only known me in my hat era literally don't recognise me without the Squatter on. This sometimes feels like a superpower, and at other times is just annoying.

Apparently, wearing a distinctive hat literally changes the way people remember you. Superman could have saved the bother of turning into Clark Kent by just putting an Akubra on!

It also seems to be impossible to find an ethical alternative to the Squatter with all the same advantages.

Less fussy people have a growing range of vegan headwear alternatives, ranging from cork to artificial felt products to hats made from mushroom mycelium. A lovely lady has made me a number of new hats which are great for many purposes, but I'm still searching for the perfect cruelty-free alternative to the Akubra Squatter.

Perhaps Twiggy can help?

***

I wrote this essay in January 2024. Top photo is me in Akubra Squatter back in 2012, at the Doubtful Creek gas protest. Middle photo shows slouch-hatted troops marching through Melbourne in 1914. Photo below is me in an earlier Squatter with Mary-Lou Stewart in 1996, standing in Bronte sea pool while making 'Freestyle'.

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