It’s no secret that Wilgart is growing. The benefits of many returning loyal customers, as well as the trend in society that favors craftsmanship, quality, and honest, locally produced caps, keeps us growing. It puts the needle and thread in motion, so to speak, in our small cap workshop.

This year promises to be the year in Wilgart’s history where we have sewn the most caps in Denmark, up to 600 pieces, and at the same time we have successfully introduced new product groups, including belts, scarves, hats and gloves. Furthermore, Wilgart has managed to attract attention by participating in markets around the country and external collaborations.

Recently, Tomas, who owns the company, and I have been considering whether it’s time to expand the ownership. If the success continues, we will need more key people to develop and build new initiatives. If you have an entrepreneurial spirit, think hats are the best thing in the world, or are cool at sewing, please drop by at any opportunity. We’re taking it slow, and our expectation is that Wilgart will find the right person within the next 2-3 years.

It’s not every day, every year, not even every decade that a substantial book about caps and hats is published – and certainly not in Danish!

That’s why it’s an event that we intend to celebrate in good company. So if you want to join us at Wilgart’s book reception, sign up for our newsletter or follow us on social media. You won’t want to miss this spiritual 350-page explosion of knowledge about hats, culture and craftsmanship.

As a backpacker, he fell in love with a fine cap and knocked hopefully on the door of the master behind the work. Since then, Silas Skram got the craftsmanship in his blood, and today Denmark’s only cap maker is on a mission to make the popular headgear handmade again.

“When I was 22 years old, I had a hard time finding a place to live in Copenhagen and a hard time figuring out what to do. I hitchhiked through Germany with my skateboard under my arm. At one point, I was in the city of Jena, inside a hat shop somewhere in Bavaria, where I came across a checkered baseball cap with padded lining in a quality I had never seen before. Really beautiful. Bullani was the name of the brand. I asked where it was made and was told that it was made 100 kilometres away in the town of Bamberg by a small family business.

Maybe I could learn to sew one too, I thought. Then I would have gotten something tangible out of the trip. I rushed to the library to borrow a computer and wrote an email to the Bullani factory saying I wanted to visit them and was on my way. The next day I found my way to the backyard where the workshop is located. You could hear the needles going in the sewing machines, the ribbon knife cutting fabric and wooden sticks banging cap pads against wooden blocks.

The button on the top and the silver-gray mark on the front are made of salmon skin from Iceland. A small design signature Wilgart often uses.

“Who are you,” said Herr Bullman, the master of the company. I stood there with my big backpack and skateboard and told them I wanted to learn how to sew caps. “You’re never going to learn that,” he said. “What did you imagine?” I tried to talk him into the idea. Told him that I could sew a little, that I could lend a hand and possibly iron the caps for him. We discussed it in length. “I’ve travelled all the way down through Germany to get to your workshop, so I have the dedication,” I tried. In the end, he gave me a cap, told me to think twice and if I still wanted to, I could come back a few days later and start working.

Sixpence and baseball caps are among Wilgart’s best-selling models.

I was allowed to stay with him and his wife just outside the city, and agreed to work six days a week. I was allowed to stand with the steam iron and sweated while it was high summer and the birds were chirping outside. And I eventually got to sew some caps for myself. And found out that it’s really hard. Herr Bullmann kept tearing open my caps and asking me to sew them back together properly. And asked me not to show them to anyone, or tell who had taught me to sew. After 19-20 caps and a month’s work, some friends lured me with a trip to a swimming lake further south, and then I said goodbye to Herr Bullmann and left.

When I returned home, I started an education as an accessories designer at KEA, Copenhagen Business Academy. It was mostly about what life is like for a designer who gets his things sewn somewhere far away in Asia, and didn’t really fit very well with what I wanted. But during holidays and every time we had to do an individual project or had an internship, I went to work at Bullani, and today I see Herr Bullmann as my master, even though I was not officially apprenticed to him. After two years of training, I set up a company that offered handmade caps, found a windowless basement room in the Northwest neighborhood, and bought my first industrial sewing machine. And every time I had a theoretical school assignment, I used the company as a case. In this way, I also got something out of the branding and marketing part of the education.

One day I got through to TV 2 Lorry, who came out into the basement room and made a feature about me, and it sparked demand. But it was still no more than 30-40 customers per half year. Just enough to pay the rent. So I continued to educate myself to get some tools to do business. I took a master’s degree in sustainable procurement in the textile industry and studied some business administration. Then I took a master’s degree in digital design and communication at the IT University, so I can now handle all online marketing myself.

Production takes place in the back room on Jægersborggade. But Silas Skram also has a sewing workshop with slightly larger machines on Bornholm.

It was time to do something serious about the company, and I applied for a room in Jægersborggade, where all commercial leases are owned by the cooperative association, which favors small businesses and does not rent out to, for example, chain stores. On the contrary, they are looking for people with crafts and who have something on their minds as business owners. I opened the store here in 2018, and sat in the back room sewing, but was also in charge of service. Later, Tomas, who was doing an internship with me in connection with his education as a design technologist, became a partner in the company. He is a master of precision, technically minded and good at IT. As a bachelors project, he developed an app that tells small stories about our craftsmanship and products, and which was presented through an exhibition outdoors on Jægersborggade in November 2020 called ‘The Cap in the 21st Century’.

It is always important to communicate what we do if we are to survive as a specialist business. Then people need to know what’s behind our prices, which are higher than if you buy a mass-produced cap. A baseball cap in wool costs from DKK 600 with us. Not only do you get a personal experience when you buy it because you know who made it, but you get a cap that fits your head size and where all materials have been considered – I have taken over Herr Bullmann’s supplier directory, which is worth its weight in gold when you start up in a specialized craft.
The pillow is sewn from wool from Scotland, the brim is die-cut in Germany and covered with leather from Italy, the piping also comes from Germany, and we take used sheets from the United Steam Laundries, which we dye and use for the lining. We try to be as sustainable as possible and only use materials from Europe. You can buy the caps we have in stock, but you can also choose the materials yourself and have your very own cap made.

The sweater is sewn from wool from Scotland, the brim is mended in Germany and covered with leather from Italy.
Compared to others in the clothing industry, we are actually quite local.

Most people who come down here are quite puzzled: “Do you make them yourself?” Once upon a time, there was nothing but handmade caps and tiny vendors in Copenhagen. Once upon a time, cap making was something you could get into quite easily because you could start up at home, it didn’t require much more than a sewing machine. But today we are probably the only ones in the Nordic countries. And at least the only ones in Denmark.”

“Denmark’s last cap makers” is what is written on the black chalk board in front of Tomas Chovan and Silas Skram’s shop on Jægersborggade. In the small shop, caps in all sorts of colours and materials are displayed in straight rows. The small workshop at the back of the shop may at first glance look like time has stopped, with the old-fashioned sewing machines, systematic disarray of text rolls and the scent of leather of the highest quality. However, “Wilgart” is far from being halted. In the workshop, time never stands still and every day new materials and concepts are innovated. Constantly evolving and moving forward, is actually also the case how Silas, by pure chance, discovered the cap making profession.

The water rumbles, the coffee plunger is pressed down and finally steaming, the sweltering cups find their way to the small table in the workshop. In the background, jazz tones from a small radio, and work lamps let their warm light compensate for the gray weather outside. Of course, both Tomas and Silas wear hats. They have a classic shape, but the quality is incomparable to what you otherwise see in various large chains, where the cap most likely comes from a conveyor belt in China. Silas’ cap is a classic baseball cap in a mix of alpaca and wool, with a leather visor. It is only the patina of the leather that reveals that it is not a cap of contemporary time. He received the cap from his teacher Herr Bullmann in Germany 9 years ago, just before he started his apprenticeship.

Silas grew up on Bornholm on the farm called Soldalen, which is located in the middle of the Bornholm nature. A home where the door was always open to guests and where there was always a new project in the making.

“My dad has always walked and built. We have had many Germans visit us as my father is from Germany. So I’ve lived in that world out in the woods with some guests and friends from Germany, and then it’s gotten bigger and bigger,” Silas says.

Nature kindergarten, apple orchards and circus are just examples of what is going on in entrepreneurship at Soldalen, which is constant and always evolving. But like most people who grow up in the countryside, Silas came to the city when he got a little older. At the age of 17, he moved to Copenhagen, where he tried both HF and cooking school. Soon after, he went to the even bigger city of Berlin, and when he returned home, his eyes were on an education in interior design in the Italian city of Bolzano. However, fate would not do the same, and Silas’ application was lost in the mail. After a month or two in Copenhagen without a permanent home, he started wandering around Europe in the summer of 2010.

The plan was to go further south, but in the German city of Jena, Silas came across a shop selling caps of a quality he had never seen before. Back then, he didn’t wear a cap. He was interested in skater culture and wore long dreadlocks, but there was something about the craftsmanship and handwork in his caps that caught his attention. He asked the owner where the caps came from, and it turned out to be Herr Bullmann’s company in Bamberg, about 100 km from where he was. It was at this moment that the idea of visiting the workshop and learning how to make caps began to take shape.

“I sent an email first and asked if I could come by. Once I had written the email, I started hitchhiking on the very next morning. Then they called me and asked, “Was wollen Sie? Wer sind Sie?”, and then I explained to them that I wanted to make caps,” Silas says in a tone that indicates that he knows how bizarre it must have sounded to the small German workshop.

When Silas finally met Herr Bullmann and asked him if he could do an apprenticeship, however, he received a resounding German nein in response.

After an hour of back-and-forth discussion, he finally persuaded Herr Bullmann. However, one doesn’t become a cap maker half-heartedly. Silas faced a full working week, where it was hard physical work from the early morning hours. The prize was the afternoons when Silas was allowed to experiment with making his own caps. The teacher was always honest.

Silas explains as he empties a bag onto the table. Out tumble caps, some more crooked than others, but in wild color combinations, shapes and patterns. They are all from the time at Herr Bullmann’s.

Silas goes on to say: “There was enough harsh criticism. He was a strict teacher, but you have to be. And I am happy about that to this day. Back then, I was riding a lot on the moment, and then he came over and asked if I had even thought about what to be aware of when you put one part of the cap together with another.”

Tomas and Silas are still in close contact with Herr Bullmann, and they also sell many of Herr Bullmann’s caps in the shop on Jægersborggade.

After a little over a month, Silas had to move on, then something new called for the adventurous young man, and he traveled further south. When he was back home in Denmark, however, he had not forgotten his apprenticeship with Herr Bullmann. And with that knowledge, Silas started the company and cap workshop Sigar, in 2013. It was in a small basement room in the North West, which was only open by appointment with customers. In 2016, the company changed its name to Wilgart, a contraction of Silas’ middle names Wilhelm and Gärtner.

With financial support from the LAG-Bornholm (EU support) in 2018, he was finally able to make products to order. It was difficult with the space, but with the support it became possible to open a workshop on Bornholm, and what other place would suit it better than Soldalen?

“We thought we could use the branding value of Bornholm. It is also relatively easy to find someone who would like to work with some crafts, as there are many who are good at sewing, making clay or something else. There are many people who work with crafts on Bornholm, and it takes some skill to make caps,” Silas explains

In 2017, Wilgart changed premises to a small shop and associated workshop on the attractive street Jægersborggade, where they now had fixed opening hours. In the street, specialty shops, such as Wilgart, are located side by side. Much like Soldalen on Bornholm, the street hosts many different events every year. Last week, the stores held a fashion show together on the street, where they showed each other’s products in the street’s authentic backdrops.

Tomas joined the company in September 2018. He is originally from Slovakia, but followed his girlfriend to Denmark, where he took an education as a production technologist at KEA. Since he was little, he has loved to build, and he especially played a lot with lego. His skills in machinery and software greatly benefit the company.

“I’m super happy that Tomas joined. This means that then you are two, and that is much cooler than being one. Then you can move on several things at the same time,” Silas elaborates

Tomas supplements. “What got me into the Wilgart is also that it is an innovative company. We play with some different technologies, including a laser cutter. So we think a lot about how to mix the traditional with the more modern.”

In addition to being one half of Wilgart, Tomas is now studying product development. An education that goes hand in hand with what he does in the company. One of the first projects he did for Wilgart was oak hat blocks using photogrammetry, 3D drawing, and CNC milling. They use the hat blocks to pull the caps over so that they can iron, steam and knock them according to the old and noble traditions.

“In this way, we have a root in some of the old crafts, but it is also mixed with a lot of innovation in this profession, which – in my opinion – has otherwise stood still for a really long time,” says Silas.

Although Tomas has been working with caps for a year now, it will be a long time before he will master the profession to the fullest.

Silas explains: “I came in with Herr Bullmann myself and thought I could just sew some caps. He said “no, it’s going to take you at least 5 or 8 years”. Then my answer was whether I could learn it in a month. That’s how it is when you have to learn something, the experience only comes after many years.”

A lot has happened since Silas became acquainted with the profession 9 years ago. Tomas has joined and new products have taken shape, but one thing remains constant and that is the quality of the materials they use.

“We produce in Denmark, and we buy resources from countries that are close by; Scotland, Germany, England, Belgium. We have vegetable tanned cowhide that comes from German cows that walk and graze down there. We try to keep it as close as possible in an otherwise global textile industry,” Silas says.

Organic Belgian linen, wool from Scottish sheep handwoven in the Outer Hebrides and subtle details of fish skin from Iceland. The materials are diverse, and the purchase of the materials is based on a high awareness of sustainability.

The inner lining of the caps comes from discarded DFD (unusable hotel grade bed) sheets, which Tomas and Silas upcycle:

“Many years ago, the silk lining was replaced with viscose and polyester. And viscose is so damn cheap, but it’s also just made in the shitiest way, where chemicals are thrown into this wood fiber. We want to get away from that. We are really happy with the DFD collaboration, and we see a lot of perspective in it, as it is sustainable in many ways.”

For example, wool, fabric, leather and buttons come from suppliers in Germany who are the same Herr Bullmann uses.

“Since we are here, we also keep alive some of the subcontractors to the profession that already exist. If there are no cap makers, the suppliers to the caps die too,” Silas elaborates.

The thoroughness and Wilgart’s code of values stand in opposition to large parts of the fashion industry.

“We have a wide range of parameters that 95% of the fashion industry does not follow. So somehow we’re kind of in our own camp in this. Some of the things that we do, but that the majority of industry does not, is that we produce in Denmark. It’s absolutely exceptional,” Silas says with enthusiasm in his voice.

From idea to final cap takes a long time, and both Tomas and Silas find inspiration in many different time periods. Right now, it’s caps from the 1920s worn by the characters in the hit series Peaky Blinders that are popular. Although the process is time-consuming, Silas and Tomas do not stop developing and thinking in new ways. Both vegan leather, a DIY (Do It Yourself) cap kit and a cap cleaning set are on the drawing board. Although Herr Bullmann was a strict teacher, Silas and Tomas do things their own way. A way that is constantly evolving and taking different shapes in new caps and products.

A cap maker creates all headgear that comes from cutting, typically in woven textiles, and manufacturing by sewing, ironing, etc.

A hatter makes his goods in felt, and shapes it by steam, stretch and heat. In this way, the cap maker profession leans more towards the tailoring profession, with a strong focus on headgear, while the hatter profession is specifically craftsmanship in a class of its own.

Read our blog post about: Capmaker vs. Hatmaker