FEATURE | STYLE
Written by Stu Paul (he/him) | Contributing Writer
Illustrated by Tashi Donnelly (she/her) | @tashi_rd | Feature Editor
My girlfriend has decidedly strong opinions about backwards caps. This knowledge came as a surprising revelation to me when, during a casual conversation about fashion with said girlfriend and her flatmate, it was revealed that she almost didn’t swipe right on my dating profile due to the fact that I was wearing such headwear in one of my photos - a fashion choice that she regards as a gross abomination of sensible aesthetics. I am here today to present a robust defence of the apparently controversial wearing of a backwards cap in mainstream society, which until recently was totally unbeknownst to me.
First and foremost, I want to begin with the fact that I was infatuated with skateboarding culture during my formative years. As a youngster, I wanted to emulate the style and fashion of my favourite skaters, guys like Chad Muska and Christian Hosoi, who effortlessly performed complex skate tricks dressed in baggy jeans, oversized tees and backwards caps. These guys smoked weed, went to crazy parties, hooked up with beautiful women, and earned a living from skateboarding - all while wearing hats positioned at various non-traditional angles both backward and otherwise. To a 12-year-old suburbanite and wannabe stoner these fast-living skateboarders were the pinnacle of physical talent and social status attainment - more akin to gods than men.
Although I have never surfed (and am in fact suspicious of the ocean and its mysterious designs), there is a considerable overlap between skateboarding and surfing culture. This degree of crossover between the two subcultures allowed for a free-flowing exchange of fashion and aesthetics that meant I was also able to adopt elements of style from surfers without ever having to brave the ocean on a surfboard myself. The fashion of skateboarding and surfing culture in New Zealand was heavily influenced by American trends. A style best described by a term borrowed from hip-hop that was floating around the cultural milieu at the time - that of ‘steez’ or ‘style with ease’. Although it is likely a dated term now, the historical function and meaning of ‘steez’ is the practice of demonstrating a fashionable style with the implication that it required little to no effort to achieve. The classic - “Oh this? I just threw it on” response as a cool and affable reply to someone complimenting your outfit. You are stylish without effort; fashionable with ease. This is the objective of dressing with steez, and it is with steez that the cap is placed in a backwards orientation upon the wearer’s head. This is headwear that does not serve the function of protecting the wearer’s eyes and face from sun damage and ultraviolet radiation. This is the headwear of the kings and queens of street and surf, the crown of the free-wheeling deities personifying the anti-establishment ethos I fell so in love with as a youth.
Another significant factor in my adoption of the backwards cap stemmed from a love of hip-hop. Many esteemed elder statesmen of the genre could be seen displaying unorthodox angles of hat-wearing over the years - individuals I loved and respected like Nas, Mos Def, DJ Premier, and the Alchemist. Style and fashion have gone hand in hand with hip-hop culture since its origin in The Bronx, New York City during the 1970s. The term ‘steez’, the aforementioned and intangible concept that one personifies while wearing a backwards cap, is commonly thought to have been coined by hip-hop heavyweight and Wu Tang Clan alumni Method Man on the GZA’s 1995 track “Shadowboxin’” where, amidst a verse of blistering rhymes, he declares to the listener - “you know my steez”.
For some time now hip-hop has been at the forefront of popular music, with artists in recent years finally gaining the critical recognition that the genre deserves (such as Kendrick Lamar winning the Pulitzer Prize for music for his 2017 album DAMN.). Hip-hop and elements of its culture have been permeating the mainstream consciousness for decades, influencing everything from films, visual art, and other genres of music - to dance, poetry, slang, and fashion. Now, of course, it must be addressed that my girlfriend harbours absolutely no ill will towards hip-hop as a musical genre or cultural phenomenon. Nor does she have any particular hate for the skateboarding and surfing communities. As a very talented and creative artist and writer herself - with a great sense of style and fashion - I am firm in my belief that considering art and aesthetics she absolutely DOES know what she’s talking about. However, it is readily apparent in life that no one can be an expert on everything. On this particular subject - the aesthetic merits of the backwards cap (or a lack thereof, in her view) - I consider her opinion to hold very little weight, and I have resolved that this is the hill I will die on within our relationship. The only point that I am willing to concede to her is the fact that, although of course the backwards cap is inherently infused with steez, unfortunately not everybody who wears the cap backwards can harness and properly manage such a powerful and unpredictable force. It is not difficult for one to imagine an ageing jock dressed in a too-tight shirt and shorts combo, boat shoes and wraparound sunglasses, sporting a backwards cap with such a sad absence of steez that the poor sucker is muddying the good name and standing of the headwear without ever realising it.
In conclusion, the backwards cap has a long and storied history that I believe some of those with such strong opinions on the subject may be woefully unaware of. It is in the spirit of such lore that I endeavour to continue the aesthetic of my subcultural forefathers by attempting to educate the reader (and my other half) on the merits and historical importance of the backwards cap. Luckily for her, my choice of wearing it served a stylistic function as well as a practical one - to keep my previously long hair out of my face and eyes. To her probable delight, due to the fact that I now have a shorter haircut, I feel less of a desire to wear the backwards cap - and I like the look of it on myself less without the long flowing locks to accompany it. Although to be totally honest, I think that I will still wear it proudly when I eventually meet her mother and extended family.
Out of respect, of course.
Comments