The Madhatter

Read the interview below to see where Downey's head is at.

So you just moved from Brooklyn back to Florida, and you’ve lived just about everywhere in the country it seems. Why did you decide to move back?

Yeah I’ve lived all over: east coast, west coast, midwest, up north and down south. I got lucky as a teen with the opportunity through skateboarding and the support and guidance of countless people to travel and live in many different places and to do what I love at a young age. I’ll forever be truly grateful for those that helped me throughout my life. I originally grew up in Florida and life has taken me full circle something like 17 years later. I met my girlfriend in New Orleans about six years ago who also grew up in south Florida, but we never had met there. We ended up both moving to NYC and living together for the past like four or five years. We moved back together so she could start working in her family’s jewelry business. It’s been a really great thing for us so far. Leaving New York put some life things back in perspective. We’re able to get ahead a little bit, slow down and enjoy life a little more. We’re actually buying our first house, something we probably could never have done living in NYC. I’m still going up to New York for work each month, so it’s actually been a great ratio of fast-paced craziness mixed with an escape.

Why hats? And did you imagine you would garner this much traction for your art?

I’ve been making hats out of fabric and recycled clothing and other objects for about eight or nine years. As for the more conceptual art hats, I follow the idea that I only make one or two classic styles of hat. With these constraints, I can hit a few specific design elements like the crown, the bill and the back closure that make that hat distinct and recognizable. Then, the material possibilities become almost endless. So by taking this classic, iconic thing and making it out of other unrelated, classic iconic things, you end up with something that you've known our whole life, but also never seen before. I think that’s why people are able to connect with the hats in the way they have. It’s nostalgic, personal and instantly recognizable—but new and weird and a surprise.

What’s your process like for creating the hats on your Instagram? Do you conceptualize it or sketch it first?

I don’t sketch at all. I usually just have the idea and go for it. A lot of time I get really lucky with the end results, like things line up perfectly or something smart works out in the design without forethought. Maybe it works out better when I improvise than when I really dissect my approach. So, I trust my instincts and the process and try to create in a free way. Mistakes are welcome.

I kind of envision you having a room for all the hats you create. What do you usually do with them after you make them? Do you sell your work on Instagram?

I’m in-between studio spaces from recently moving, but in my old space, I had all the hats up on hooks on a wall in a big grid. Now a lot of them are in storage. Some are being displayed in a gallery on Palm Beach, Florida called JL Modern. They have the hats for sale through their artsy account. It’s a crazy thing to see my hats in a proper gallery setting. I’m like shit, I guess they really are art. Making them has been a lot of fun, and I’m really happy everyone is enjoying them. My best sellers are the Pantone hats and the Ziploc hats, and I’ve been selling those through the gallery and through DMs on Instagram. I would love to do a book with all the photos of the hats with all the behind-the-scenes photos. One day.

How do you choose what materials you’re going to use for the hats?

I think it works best if it’s a nostalgic or iconic item, something people can personally connect with. When it comes to sewing these materials that aren’t necessarily sewable, I have a lot of weird little things I do to make them workable. For the collard greens hat, the leaves were too rubbery and sticky. I had to spray them with WD-40 to stitch them into the hat. Each hat has a little trick. My girlfriend and I have fun thinking of new materials. Most of the time an idea will hit you instantly. You’ll be walking through a store and suddenly think, “Banana split hat!” I’ll probably do that one soon.

You used physical issues of office for some of your hats. (We’re very honored.) And now we’re interviewing you, so full circle. How did you first find out about office?

The honor is all mine! I have been a fan of office for a while. It’s a really impressive book. I have a friend Caitlin who works there with y’all as a fashion editor. Whenever I was around the Canal Street Market, I would grab a coffee from the office coffee shop too.

To date, what’s your favorite hat that you’ve made?

I have a couple favorites, but a funny one just happened. For a while, I’ve turned peoples old favorite t-shirts into hats. Six years ago, I had a Kickstarter project based on it. Recently, this guy DMs me and says he has a shirt for me to turn into a hat. I say great let’s do it, then don’t hear back. A couple weeks later he contacts me and is like, “Man I don’t know how, but I lost the shirt I was going to send you. Bummer, nevermind.” So I said sorry, let me know if it shows up or you have another one you want to do.

Then a couple weeks later, a woman DMs me and says she stole a shirt from her husband that she wants to get made into a hat and give to him as a surprise. A couple months later, this guy probably got his T-shirt hat and was so hyped. I was so happy to be a part of that.

Do you make the hats on your own? Is your girlfriend Emma a part of your creative process?

For the art hats, aside from actually sewing them, she’s pretty involved. We brainstorm new materials, or she’ll help me piece together a design. She’s in the jewelry world, so she has a really good eye for small details. She’s into fashion and art and has great taste. Some of the arts-and-crafty ones we’ll do together.

On the Falcon Bowse site as of today, there’s only hats in stock. What are your plans with Falcon Bowse in 2020?

Yeah, only hats. I’ve had full collections of clothes before, but my hats always do the best. I’m honestly just much better at making hats than other garments. I have a really cool short film coming out soon. It’s our second one we’ve made with Collin Read. He’s a genius. It’s going to be hilarious. I also just came out with an iPhone sticker pack app, where you can put my hats on photos or memojis in text messages. It’s available now on the App Store, called Falconbowse hats. Next I want to try to make AR filters with all my hats. I’ll probably get that going soon. I’m having fun figuring out different ways for people to interact and enjoy my hats and art.

Between skating and designing, you’re a man who “wears many hats.” What other projects are you currently working on?

I’m currently back in NYC working on some reupholstering some furniture for the Tibi store in SoHo. You can see some of my upholstery stuff on my other insta @bowsehaus. I want to do some version of a live workshop or art show where people bring in their old favorite shirt, and I make them into a hat on the spot. I’m talking with some people to get that going. I think it would be a really fun event. I’m also working on another fun project, doing the illustrations for a children’s book my mom wrote. I’m about halfway done. It’s definitely my goal to finish it this year, no matter what.

Hats have become so political in today’s day and age. Any stance or feelings towards that?

Um, I’m staying out of it.

What’s the most you would pay for a hat?

Well, I just make whatever hat I want. I would probably pay $20 or less like if it were a cool or funny vintage one at a thrift shop.

How many hats do you own?

I have like 60 of the art hats just in my storage. For personal hats, I only have like three or four that I actually wear day to day. They are ones from special, small batches I make of vintage fabrics that I’ll never find again. And I have two thick wool beanies I’ve had for years, one my girlfriend knit for me.

Culture

The Club Is Coming to the Stage

We enter and make our way to what is approximately front left of the DJ booth, where we’re accustomed to dancing at clubs in New York. “So is this a techno club or a dance performance?” yells an uncertain participant in my boyfriend’s ear. He laughs, bouncing along to Ben UFO, and yells back, “It’s both!” The club has long been a hot topic in European contemporary dance but it is only now making its way into New York performance venues, largely through transatlantic tours. R.O.S.E. follows recent examples like Michele Rizzo’s HIGHER xtn. at MoMA PS1 (May 2024), (LA)HORDE’s Room with a View at NYU Skirball (October 2023), and Gisèle Vienne’s Crowd at BAM (October 2022).

Do these performances compromise the club’s spirit — a space idealized for its anonymity, dark lighting, and thundering music? The notion of the club as a utopian escape is admittedly just that — an ideal — because of how its intense conditions can create barriers to entry. Still, the club remains sacred for many, a place to forge connections and embrace an alternative state of being. Looking at how performances transfer this spirit to new settings reveals what aspects of the club are essential and those that aren’t.

Sharon Eyal, R.O.S.E. 2024. Photography by Stephanie Berger, courtesy of Park Avenue Armory.

Eyal’s dancers make their entrance. The lighting shifts from roving blue to yellow spotlights as Ben UFO’s tracks transition to more melodic beats. Clad in deconstructed lace Dior lingerie with dark red tears painted on their faces, the dancers move cautiously in a tightly maintained pack, slicing paths through the horde with hoof-like steps and jerky leg extensions. After around ten minutes of this controlled choreography, the dancers vanish as the lighting shifts back to blue and Ben UFO picks up his dubby beats. The club, as we knew it, resumes. This cycle of tightly executed movements and free-flowing club-goers repeats several times, each time emboldening the dancers to plunge further into the crowd.

Clubbing in a building once built for the U.S. Army National Guard on Manhattan’s Upper East Side turns out to be surprisingly successful — at least for the audience. What starts as an awkward, scattered group searching for their non existent seats gradually gels into an engaged, bouncing crowd that erupts in cheers each time the dancers enter and exit. Performance patrons who might never step foot in a club find themselves swept up in its potential for communion, moving in unison with fellow ticket holders. But it isn’t until the very end of R.O.S.E. that the dancers finally break free from Eyal’s choreography and join the fired-up audience in a brief moment of improvisatory movement with the music. By keeping her dancers at arm’s length, Eyal seems more interested in the club as a backdrop for her signature movement style than wholly as a space with meaningful stories to be told.

Michele Rizzo, HIGHER xtn. 2024. Photography by Cameron Kelly courtesy of MoMA PS1.

Back in May, I attended Wire Festival, a multiday electronic music event at Knockdown Center that had no shortage of organically united dancefloors. It attracted a crowd of seasoned ravers who were eager to celebrate the start of spring as they danced alongside DJs who played well into the daylight. I left Wire in an afternoon daze to see Michele Rizzo’s HIGHER xtn. at MoMA PS1. My sleepless euphoria only deepened as the performance unfolded, starting with a lone dancer who looked plucked out of the festival.

The dancer, dressed in sneakers, baggy jeans, and a tight tank top, shuffled slowly into the gallery, perfectly in sync with the looping bars of an understated electronic melody. Soon, other dancers, clad in the same staple rave uniform, joined him — each having traveled from Europe for the U.S. museum debut of HIGHER xtn., which premiered at the Stedelijk in Amsterdam in 2018 and quickly became a fixture at kunsthalles and festivals across the continent. As the score’s tempo climbed, the choreography locked into a 16-count sequence, which the dancers executed with precise synchrony. They remained intensely focused, never making eye contact with each other, as they sought release in the endless repetition of synthesized beats. Once the dancers reached their limit, they stopped the sequence and exited the gallery, one by one.

HIGHER xtn. used the focused daylight of the gallery to highlight the meditative release found in the repetitive movements that dominate dark dancefloors. The performance’s restraint brought more consistency and intentionality than Eyal’s all-encompassing club construction in R.O.S.E. Yet both performances offer enticing entry points into club culture for those who may not frequent raves. Rizzo’s ecstatic, hypnotic repetitions reveal how the club can mirror other meditative practices, while Eyal’s interpolation of performance and clubbing helped hesitant audience members blossom by the end. Still, both works overlook one of the most underappreciated aspects of clubbing — its potential for individual expression. HIGHER xtn.’s pristine uniformity especially risks promoting the outdated techno trope that there’s a “right” way to dance to electronic music.

Maybe this shortcoming is, in fact, a benefit. For habitual ravers jaded by one too many sunrise sets, it’s a reminder to return to the club with more intention. If you pause and peer through the darkness, you’ll see hundreds of people moving to the same beat, each with their own subtle variations. This collective choreography is a ready-made spectacle that doesn’t need validation in a theater or museum. And when the music shifts slightly, you can watch the ripple effect sweep through the crowd while feeling the new beat in your body. Maybe this small bit of magic is best left on the dance floor.

Culture

Real Slick, Jack: Psyche Organic Arrives in New York

Shop Psyche Organic at Happier Grocery and Dimes. Coming soon to @citarellagourmetmarket @unionmarket @gourmetgarage @deciccos @fairwaymarket plus many more.

Culture

Porsche SCOPES Brings Art, Music, and Design to Toronto

The festival was a full immersion into Toronto’s dynamic creative energy. Day one set the tone with DJ collective Living Room, followed by an experimental performance by Claire Rousay that captivated the crowd. Jewelry designer Steff Eleoff unveiled her Porsche Taycan 4S art car installation—a bold fusion of automotive and wearable art inspired by her Sedona ring—while OVO Sound’s Naomi Sharon and DVSN wrapped up the night with powerful, genre-defying performances.

We witnessed SCOPES Toronto bridging underground and mainstream with day two’s lineup. DJ Korea Town Acid’s set paved the way for Angelphroot and Dameer’s debut of BASSMATI, a track blending South Asian influences with bass-driven sounds. Chippy Nonstop’s return to Toronto and Richie Hawtin’s extended set were milestones of the evening, proving that the city’s underground scene has a global resonance.

The final day featured standout performances from local pianist Harrison, Indigenous artist Tia Wood, and hip-hop visionary Sean Leon, who elevated his set with a live choir. Moonshine Collective’s film and musical performance explored themes of African utopia, showcasing art’s power to bridge culture and technology. Rising Toronto star SadBoi, who paused her tour to perform at SCOPES, further underscored the festival’s commitment to nurturing local talent.

Throughout the weekend, we experienced installations from artists like Mitsu Mitsu and culinary creations from Bar Mordecai, capturing the multifaceted creativity Porsche SCOPES brought to Toronto. This milestone 10th edition, open to all, allowed Toronto’s vibrant arts scene to thrive, underscoring SCOPES’ mission to celebrate local talent while connecting it to a global audience.

office had the chance to connect with rising star SadBoi ahead of the event. In our conversation, she shared insights into her creative journey and reflected on what performing and growing up in Toronto means to her and her work.

How are you, and where are you at right now? You told me you were traveling.

Um, I’m good, I’m feeling really good right now. I’m traveling back to Salt Lake City. I had a show yesterday in Seattle. I’m on tour right now with Coco and Claire.

How is touring life treating you? Do you like it?

I love being on the road. To be honest, I feel like I don’t know—like I’ve had good experiences and bad ones—but this time it’s really fun, especially with the people I’m surrounded by. It’s also the longest tour I’ve been on; I have about four more weeks to go. I’m trying not to think about how many days I have left.

Do you feel homesick?

Yes, because when I start thinking about how many days are left, I start to miss my dogs. I’ve just been trying to stay in the moment—I don’t even know what day of the week it is, to be honest with you.

Oh, sweet! What are your dogs’ names?

Jillian and Winston. I know, they’re crazy names.

You’ll be performing at SCOPES in Toronto, which is where you grew up. Do you feel like the crowd is different when you perform in Toronto compared to other cities?

Yes, I mean, Toronto just feels different because it’s home. Every time I come back to perform, something in my career has changed. The last time I performed in Toronto, people just wanted to have a good time, and I’m excited to perform back home again to see everyone’s reactions. I know it’s going to be different from the last time. It’s exciting to see your own growth. Toronto is a tough crowd, though. If we’re with you, we’re really with you.

So, they’re super picky? You have to gain their respect, or what is it?

I think Toronto people are in their own world, but when something really connects with them, they’ll lose themselves in the moment. But it takes something to bring them out of that. Toronto crowds are tough because even if they like you, they won’t show it outright until they’re really vibing with you.

It’s like a vibe check, right?

Exactly. They’ll enjoy your performance, but it’s hard to explain. When people visit Toronto, they often say, “Oh, you guys are so nice,” and I’m like, “I don’t think we’re that nice, we’re just polite.” Like, you can walk down the street, and no one will say anything, but it’s just our mannerisms.

You mentioned Toronto can have a moody energy, especially at night, and that the underground night scene there really inspires you. Can you talk more about what makes Toronto's nightlife so influential for you?

Absolutely, Toronto has this unique energy that comes alive at night. Similar to New York, there are the popular clubs everyone knows, but you need to find your niche—the people who know where the real parties are. I remember going to raves in high school yards, sneaking in because I wasn’t old enough. Events like Baby, Jerk!, and Yes Yes Y’all were pivotal, exposing me to DJs blending dancehall with EDM—something I hadn’t seen before. Toronto nightlife is moody and intense, but when everyone’s out, it’s like the whole city is alive.