This Surfer-Approved Sun Hat Always Gets Me Compliments

I have four basic needs when it comes to hats: solid sun protection for my neck, face and ears; an open field of vision; wind-gust staying power; and, last but definitely not least, something that makes me feel cute. I know it’s not too much to ask because my Tango Zulu African Straw Hat—or Bolga hat, after the Bolgatanga region of northern Ghana from which it originates—does it all.

I’ve gone through a lot of hats in my day: baseball hats (good for glare, bad for neck protection), straw lifeguard-style hats with a 6.5-inch brim (great protection, bad peripheral vision), and cotton bucket hats (cute, but not enough protection). Then I found my Bolga hat.

Each one is handwoven in Ghana from native savannah elephant grass, so they’re one-of-a-kind with variations in size, pattern, and shape. Tango Zulu individually measures and photographs each Bolga hat, so the hat you see is the hat you get. Some have flat crowns, some rounded, some slightly pointed. The tassel-tipped, braided leather chin straps vary in color and thickness. Mine is a hybrid of the round- and flat-top versions with purple and red stripes.

The 4-inch rigid brim provides plenty of shade; it slopes downward ever so slightly—just enough to keep the sun’s rays fully off my face and neck without impeding my peripheral vision. And I don’t even care that my husband says it looks like I have a Captain Jack Sparrow beard when the chin straps are cinched, because the hat stays on even when the wind whips up. (For reference, my husband thinks polo shirts are fancy.) Besides, much more stylish critics, such as the Greta Lee look-alike wearing a white silk jumpsuit in the park, have complimented my hat.

The hat’s not high fashion—I wouldn’t wear it to a wedding or fancy occasion—but it definitely has a laid-back, The Endless Summer meets coastal grandma swagger that eludes so many other sun hats. The scale, the lines, the craftsmanship, and the muted tones come together in a triumph of cool. I like the hat. Surfers like the hat. It doesn’t feel like a windbreaker on my head, and yes, I have actually worn it to parties.

The hat is also impressively sturdy. It’s flopped around in the back of my car for weeks. I dunked it in the Tuolumne river during a scorching hike in Yosemite National Park, and it dried perfectly shaped to my head, without any puckering, sagging, or shrinking. I haven’t been particularly gentle (or even kind) to this hat, and it’s still going strong.

Tango Zulu is just one US vendor of Bolga hats. They’re all over Etsy and eBay; I’ve seen them at garden stores and chichi boutiques. I found this particular online retailer by Googling “African straw hat” in 2017—and the website and quality of the hats remain unchanged all these years later. The Washington-state-based company partners with two small Fair Trade Federation wholesalers to ensure that hat sales benefit the communities from which they come. Tango Zulu offers free shipping for orders over $25 and easy returns—which is not typical for a small retailer. Other good Bolga hats do exist, but this is a reliable place to find a great one that is guaranteed to fit your head.

Straw hats don’t have an official ultraviolet protection factor (UPF) rating, and the tight, dense weave does allow pinpricks of light to pass through, but the Skin Cancer Foundation recommends a brim that’s at least 3 inches in length, and the Tango Zulu straw hat fits the bill.

I’ve also never gotten sunburned wearing it—not even on the part of my hair, which is particularly prone to scorching. Still, people looking for the fullest protection might be more comfortable with a guaranteed UPF, like the picks in our guide to the best hats for hikers.

Although my hat has traveled locally and weathered a few road trips, it’s too big and rigid to be packed in a bag. And it’s beginning to wear. The original colors have faded from dark purple and burgundy to dusty lavender and reddish-brown. One of the chin strap tassels came off, which is nothing a knot didn’t solve. The brim is fraying slightly but easy to trim. Six years in, my favorite sunhat is a little less snazzy than it once was (ditto). But I like to think of it like The Velveteen Rabbit: The hat looks well loved because it is.

This article was edited by Hannah Morrill and Catherine Kast.