As part of a work experience grant project from the Costume Society, Madi Hough has been working with the Museum over the past few months to explore our collection of hats. See how she got on below…

Over the past five months, I have had the privilege of delving into the Museum of the Order of St John’s extensive uniform collection, uncovering the hidden sartorial stories woven into these garments. What began as a collaboration between me and the Museum’s curatorial team to digitise the collection evolved into a broader exploration, focusing on the evolution of nursing hats. This project, made possible by the Costume Society Work Experience Grant, involved collections and archival research, material cultural analysis and professional photography to document and interpret these pieces. We utilised part of the funding to undergo object photography training with photographer Matt Spour. After an intensive training day, I was entrusted to work my way through photography for the hat collection. The images I photographed and edited are now part of the permanent online collection, with some on display in the accompanying digital exhibition I curated.  

This project has culminated in an online exhibition, which will soon be available on the Museum of the Order of St John’s website, tracing the socio-cultural significance of the Order’s hats. It highlights how uniforms served as powerful sartorial tools for navigating gender, labour, and power. 

The project started by digitising the hat collection, followed by in-depth research using archival materials such as first aid journals, dress regulations, and accompanying objects housed in the museum’s collections. As I examined the hats, a narrative began to take shape: that of the Nursing Sisters’ journey to assert themselves as respected peers to their male counterparts, using their uniforms as a tool for social and professional recognition. 

In 1860, Florence Nightingale established the Nightingale School of Nursing, which formalised a standardised approach to nursing. Following that, nursing became a central focus of the Order of St John with the introduction of the ‘Home Nursing & Midwifery’ branch in the mid-1890s. The voluntary nurses of the Order of St John adopted uniforms similar to those of professional nurses. These iconic early uniforms were more symbolic than practical, reinforcing a hyper-feminine image of women as naturally suited caregivers.

Since the Napoleonic period, uniforms have been used as an institutionalised weapon of power, embodying masculine attributes aligned with notions of militarism, heroism and might. The cultural politics embedded in the uniform have thus long been used as a tool of modern civility, demarcating the modern self as “normatively male and transgressively female” (Craik, 2003, pp.143). Thus, as women entered traditionally male-dominated fields, uniforms became a powerful tool for asserting their legitimacy and navigating new expressions of femininity in the public sphere, adopting more masculine qualities to assert their authority and professionalism. Foucault’s concept of the “disciplinary state” suggests uniforms regulate individuals, shaping them into productive members of society. In the case of the Order of St John, regular uniform checks and competitions mirrored military protocols, creating formal mechanisms to distinguish members from the public and instill a sense of collective purpose and discipline. Despite the adoption of masculine attributes and attempts to align themselves as valuable members of society, nursing still reflected gendered inequalities of the time.  

As the First and Second World Wars unfolded, the education of the general public in basic nursing and first aid became framed as a civic duty and a form of public service on behalf of the Order. For instance, the First Aid Journal in the 1930s and 1940s featured regular “Nurse’s pages” to teach the public these essential skills, framing this education as a key element of national service and modern citizenship. This reflects the broader cultural narrative of the time, in which service to the public good, particularly in times of crisis like war, was seen as a moral and civic responsibility. Craik notes that women in uniform became symbols of strength, discipline, and national unity, even as their uniforms reflected the gendered expectations of femininity. Headgear, in particular, signified authority and rank, with nursing caps decorated with insignia to mark their position within the institution. These symbols distinguished nurses from other women and emphasised their status as public servants. By the post-World War II era, there were growing calls for better pay and working conditions in nursing as the profession gained more recognition and respect. Recruitment campaigns during the 1950s emphasised nursing as both a career and a service to the nation, particularly in the context of rebuilding society after the war. Yet, women in nursing, even as icons of public service, were frequently relegated to subordinate roles and lesser pay, revealing the persistent tension between their status as national heroes and societal subordination.

The nursing uniform traces the evolving roles of women in society, the professionalisation of nursing, and the ways uniforms serve as symbols of power and identity. From religious origins to military-inspired forms, the nursing uniform has been a key tool in navigating gendered divisions of labour. As women gained recognition in public spheres, their uniforms became symbols of professionalism, reflecting both their role in national service and the gendered expectations they faced.