by Pamela Wright
photos by Maggie West

There is nothing old-fashioned about designer Davyne Dial. Her handmade  hats, however, truly capture the lure and glamour of women’s fashions from days gone by. From her North Asheville home studio, Davyne (Day-veen) creates what she calls “wearable sculptures.” Designers of upscale ladies’ hats were first termed milliners after “Milaners” because the residents of Milan, Italy were famous for their hat-making skills. Dial is a self-taught artist of millinery at a time when most American hats are cranked out by machines in Asia. And while the glory of the milliner’s craft is fading in this era of mass-production, Dial draws on modern trends to keep women who wear her hats feeling like the belle of the ball—even if they’re only at Bele Chere.

As a child growing up in Florida, Dial showed artistic abilities early on. At the age of five or so, she saw her mother draw a sketch on paper. “I tried to copy hers—and mine actually came out better!” Dial took painting lessons as a teen and took great pride in sewing her outfits by hand. She never considered making money from her creations, which included jewelry, until a huge part of her life came unglued: her 11-year marriage to an Army officer ended in divorce. Afterwards, she made a new commitment to herself. “I became determined,” she says, “to make my living, my life, from my creativity.” In 1982, Dial moved to New Orleans and began selling her hand-crafted jewelry to tourists in the French Quarter. A few of her pieces caught the eye of a national wholesaler, and soon Dial’s jewelry was sold through national catalogs. She still made each piece by hand.

But after nearly a decade, and during a particularly sultry summer, Dial says the cool breeze of the mountains began calling her name. She had some lucrative jewelry-making accounts with catalogs and knew she could make jewelry anywhere. “In Asheville, people believe more in nurturing one’s self and that was the kind of atmosphere I wanted to live and create in,” she recalls.

With a refreshed outlook and a new home, Dial returned to an art form that had intrigued her in the past. During 11 years as an Army officer’s wife, she had attended countless events where fancy hats and gloves were the norm. Dial began looking at her old hats in a new way and was drawn to the artistry of millinery work. “Plus,” she remembers with a grin, “I knew I looked good in hats, so I would use what I made.” She had plenty of creative energy but no role model or teacher. Coco Chanel, one of Dial’s heroes, began her designing career as a milliner (but, unfortunately, never published Millinery for Dummies). So Dial put on her thinking cap and invested in well-made antique hats, dissecting them in her homemade lab. Carefully taking each one apart, she studied the shape of its body, the origin of the fabric and the little extras that brought that hat to life. 

Finding the tools to recreate the old-fashioned artistry of the craft was tougher. Dial’s work ethic and vision demanded a process that seemed to have fallen out of favor. Dial believes the root of the problem started in the 1960s. There was, she says, both an influx of mass-produced flowers from China in the ‘60s—which meant the handmade flower industry in America completely wilted—and a change in attitude about fancy clothing. Ironically, the typical “flower child” of the American ‘60s wanted nothing to do with either expensive handcrafted flowers or fancy attire. The youth of that period rejected formalwear of any kind and brought the hat-wearing trend to a screeching halt, especially for women. During, and shortly after, the ‘60s social revolution, “many of the old millinery tools were melted down for scrap metal,” Dial explains. 

Dial’s dedication to her craft is apparent in her no-shortcut approach to hat and flower making. She still personally chooses the fabric, whips up the dye, cuts, presses, curls, sculpts and colors each of her designs. “I name my favorite styles,” says Dial. “I try to capture the hat’s personality.” She believes the Zelda hat, for example, with its bold hues of green and purple encircled by vintage metallic lace, reflects the spirit of Zelda Fitzgerald, or of a woman from the roaring ‘20s. But not all of the names she chooses are based on historical figures. The Monica is quite showy, made of plush velvet and adorned with feathers. “The ‘Monica’ hat was named long before our President (Clinton) made that name famous,” she says.

After full-time hat-making for 16 years, Dial now considers herself semi-retired. She still accepts special orders and says, “Most of my clients are brides, their mothers and still any woman who is ready to make a statement.” Her only stipulation for taking a job is pretty straight forward: “If it’s pretty, I’ll do it,” she says. Prices for her hats start at around $200. To make sure a woman gets the most out of her investment, Dial says she favors neutral colors for the body of the hat, which keeps the look classic and allows a customer to modernize it with ribbons or flowers. Dial’s hats are designed to be flexible, both in style and in shape, explaining that the glue in cheaper hats is what makes them stiff.

Dial is currently compiling her 25 years of millinery experience onto DVDs for the next generation of hat-makers. This is the newest phase of her life in hats, though she does still sell her hats online (www.davynedial.com) and from the Kress Emporium in downtown Asheville. “I now have the time and ability to learn something new and I’m going to focus on teaching my craft,” she says. Still, she’s as confident as ever in the power of a well-made hat and jokes that she’s considering adding a disclaimer to each one she sells: “If you wear one of my designs, just be ready for men to fall at your feet.”    

HOW TO GET THAT HEADY FEELING
Davyne Dial takes special orders for custom hats. See more of her work at davynedial.com, or at the Kress Emporium in downtown Asheville (9 Patton Avenue; 828-281-2252).