“. . . [Here] was history in the stones of the street and the atoms of the sunshine.” – Isabel Archer exploring a Roman archeological site, from Henry James’ The Portrait of a Lady Ch. XXVII
The cities of Italy are lessons in taking the old and fashioning it into something useful for modern life, fitting the contemporary into the past. A villa constructed in 1300 has been separated into multiple flats-for-rent sharing a central courtyard. In modernizing, the iron wrought gate’s lock has been electronically updated so the mail carrier can buzz themself in. The back garden grows up and out in protest, reaching into the trees next door. In another ten years of rain, the already-buckling stone wall supported by plywood will finish crumbling. This negotiation continues as it has for hundreds of years, people of today making old spaces work for their modern lives.
Bologna, the capital of Italy’s northeastern Emilia-Romagna region, is an example of this ongoing conversation with Italy’s past. The construction and building codes of the city were created with a particular reverence for Bologna’s history. In the central square two brick towers, “Il Due”, remain. These 300-foot structures, constructed in the early 1100s, peer down at passers-by. Streets and stucco peel away to reveal previous generations of discolored material and half-erased graffiti of a student long graduated. Looking up at the second-story windows one can see the dust outlines of burlap curtains that have not been moved in decades. In Bologna, the youth scrawl their declarations to the world on columns constructed in the Renaissance. It is unlikely that any UNESCO world heritage site is graffitied as regularly as Bologna’s porticoes, the covered sidewalks that are a regular feature throughout the old city.
This negotiation between modern life and preserving the cultural traditions of Italy extends beyond architecture. Though not as well known as the fashion-house city of Milan, the Emilia-Romagna region is the birthplace of many designers. A month on from winter’s end, the students of the University of Bologna rose to the occasion, layering stylish garments against a chill I could barely make out due to the precipitation of the humid spring air. However, we were on a hunt for a more classic Italian silhouette. Consider an Italian look: perhaps a Fellini film comes to mind, or a Prada advert in a magazine. Any given celebrity yachting off the Amalfi is likely to be clad in at least one of Italy’s iconic garments: the suit, the shoes, and the hat. This Italian style, a cultural export, has been mythologized to consumers worldwide. On a lightly misting Thursday, that is what we set out to get a taste of.
On my previous trip to Italy a year prior, I had made a point of purchasing some loafers (€40 from Zita Broolz, a small family-run company out of Livorno). I was having dinner with Grandma as part of my return trip and formal dress was required. On this visit, while reviewing locations for our second full-day walk around the city, one business stood out: Antico Cappelliere Malaguti (translated literally: “Ancient Hat Shop Malaguti,” more correctly understood as “Malaguti’s Ye Olde Hat Shop”). As fans of Italian period dramas such as the excellent Inspector Ricciardi, my family and I wanted to experience shopping for a classic item in an classic Italian store, just as we had been enjoying the quintessential Bolognese fare across the city’s trattorias.
On April 18th, 2024, we set out from our flat on Strada Maggiore in the direction of Antico Cappelliere Malaguti. Heading northeast, we picked up cappuccinos just before crossing the Piazza della Mercanzia, the easternmost point of the city’s center. Having learned from our previous days of exploration, we avoided the crowded central square and took a side street onto Via Altabella for window shopping at a few thrift and craft stores. We blitzed across the busy and modern Villa Dell’Indepenza to more casually stroll up Via Galliera一 a thinner road with stores and restaurants alternating between old-style mansions retrofitted into apartment buildings. Walking north on Via Galliera was a treat. Bologna’s porticoes amplify nearby conversation but block most commotion from even a block away. So, just one street over from the crowds we enjoyed a quieter atmosphere mostly by ourselves. We passed what Google Maps called an architectural salvage store and, buzzing on their doorbell with the intention of inspecting their wares, were allowed entry by the street-level residents. The place had not been any sort of outlet for a long time. They were preparing a reception and mistakenly believed us to be early arrivals. We laughed about it and after chatting for a minute, continued up the street.
After about two hours of wandering from our flat, eating intermittently and checking out shops along the way, we arrived at our destination. Antico Cappelliere Malaguti sits near the intersection of Via Galliera and Villa Del Porto in the old town’s northern side. Through the front windows one can see headwear for all seasons: flat caps, woven hats, graduation caps, and felt hats of varying construction. The hats are in various states of adornment: custom tassels and livery that could be applied and altered in-store. Taking a breath from our journey so far, we steadied ourselves before proceeding through the entrance of Antico Cappelliere Malaguti.
Immediately opposite the front door is Dona Malaguti’s large wooden desk. Behind where she sat the curtains were parted, revealing a storeroom and sewing workshop. As we entered, Dona Malaguti took her eyes off the avvocato’s, or lawyer’s, uniform she was tailoring and rose to greet us. The image of an Italian grandmother is an oft-repeated one. Boisterous and eager to see the success of others, but careful not to let them off with an easy word. Through our visit to her store, Dona Malaguti embodied these qualities in all the best ways. She smiled with her eyes and opened her arms wide, inviting us into the shop.
Antico Cappelliere Malaguti has a large double storefront lined with wooden cabinets full of merchandise, staffed with mannequins dressed in varying uniforms. Tables at the center feature the current choice headwear. Not just a hat shop, one could also purchase this season’s accessories or have an item tailored. Dona Malaguti took us on a full tour of the shop floor, eagerly explaining the products and quickly looking between us three to see who was the most interested in each piece. Dona Malaguti only speaks Italian. My mother acted as the intermediary between us all. As a beginner level speaker, I did my best to compliment the excellence of each hat’s construction. Anytime we would confer between ourselves in English, Dona Malaguti would quickly interject, taking a step closer and requesting a translation: “Cosa? Cosa ha detto?” she repeated, looking at each of us in turn.
From the outset, we were not certain if we were going to purchase a hat. Dona Malaguti changed that. Through her energy and conversation, she drew us in. With her careful eye, she identified me as the main target and selected a few hats for me to try on. Being 25 and chronically online, I knew the flat cap and fedora were not the right style for me; however, when I bent down and she put the final hat on my head, an all-black version of Panizza’s Duke, I felt it was a special moment. She held a finger to my eyebrow and pushed the hat a bit further down onto my head, explaining the one-finger gap is the proper way to wear the hat: brim level with the ground. My father wanted to try it on, Dona Malaguti told him off, saying his head is too big. We all laughed. Looking in the mirror, I knew I wanted to take home a little piece of Antico Capielliere Malaguti, of this experience. For a half-drizzle day, the waterproof felt material and handmade Italian construction of the Panizza was deeply convincing.
Dona Malaguti and her store are both historic establishments in Bologna. Currently in her mid-eighties, Dona Malaguti is the second-generation owner of Antico Capelliere Malaguti. Her father opened the store just after the turn of the 20th century, and the family business has remained in the same location for more than 120 years. This shopping experience has stuck in my mind. Never have I been attended to and appreciated as a community member in the manner that I was in Dona Malaguti’s establishment. Her conduct emanated respect for her craft, for the traditions of Italian garments, and for the city of Bologna.
As we thanked Dona Malaguti and began to take our leave, I was taken by her genuine excitement to have us as patrons. She made sure we knew her regular spot for Bolognese cuisine, emphasizing it was the best lasagna in the city and having us recite the directions back to her to prove we knew the way. I was touched by her excitement for us to experience more of her Bologna. There is a beauty in the way Bologna’s communities interact and pass by each other in harmony. Each block of restaurants and bars patronized by one of Bologna’s communities: a bar in the east catering to student late-night festivities; a few blocks west a trattoria attended daily by regular customers; a cafe where these people cross paths ordering un cappuccino in the morning; people heading out everyday to complete their routine, brushing shoulders under the porticoes constructed in an age long past, yet still reaching forward to us now.