MOROBÉ MATCH — ELVIS POMPILIO

Since launching his career in 1987, Elvis Pompilio (°1961) has become a defining force in contemporary millinery, gracing the heads of international icons, royal families, and leading fashion houses with his sculptural creations. What began as a modest, by-appointment-only practice steadily grew into an international presence, reaching an annual production of 30,000 handmade hats, each one grounded in an uncompromising dedication to craftsmanship. 

After years of global expansion, his focus has returned to a more intimate, Brussels-based practice, where creation remains hands-on and deeply personal, driven by a constant desire to expand the boundaries of his discipline through material and form. 

For its first venture into headwear, MOROBÉ joins forces with Elvis Pompilio this summer to introduce five denim hat silhouettes embossed with the brand’s signature pattern, marking an exciting expansion of its accessories universe. 


For this edition of MOROBÉ MATCH, Virginie Morobé sits down with Elvis to talk about his journey, his passion, and the connection between headwear and footwear.

INTERVIEW

Virginie: Dear Elvis, what was it about MOROBÉ that convinced you to say yes to this collaboration? 


Elvis: First, because I know the brand—it’s a Belgian brand I respect and admire. My sisters, cousins and nieces wear MOROBÉ shoes. I was also introduced through Bernard Tournemenne and Glenn Sestig, both long-time friends. I know they only do things properly and collaborate with the right people, so I immediately trusted the project. It was really a combination of things. And then, of course, meeting you confirmed everything even more. You are incredibly kind, motivated, and passionate—and that’s exactly what I value in a brand.


Virginie: That leads into our second question. You initially said yes to MOROBÉ as a brand, and only later met me in person. Would you have continued the collaboration if we hadn’t connected personally? 


Elvis: Yes, I would have continued, but meeting you and the team was a beautiful experience. You are truly remarkable people, with great taste. Everything related to beauty and aesthetics is very important to me. Today, I work purely out of passion. I could stop working if I wanted to—I don’t need to work anymore—but I’m still a professor at La Cambre and I do a lot of things on the side. Sometimes I have to turn things down; for example, I had to refuse working on Raf Simons’ last collection two years ago simply because I didn’t have the time. If that hadn’t been the case, I would have done it happily.  With MOROBÉ, it’s a real pleasure because we created something new and experimented with new materials. It’s also a challenge—new materials, new proportions— and I love that.



Virginie: I never imagined making hats for MOROBÉ. After seeing some fabrics, Bernard suggested: “Why don’t you make hats?” And I thought—who would even make them? And Bernard said: “There’s only one person in Belgium who can do it: Elvis Pompilio.” And here we are. What has been the most memorable to me is the pleasure of working with you. Your personality, your positivity—it adds so much value to this project.


Elvis: That’s exactly it. It’s personal—it’s about feeling. If the connection is right, it works. If not, I can’t accept it. I never force things. Meeting people in person matters, people who understand craftsmanship, effort, and passion. You need to immerse yourself in new materials and new challenges. I’m 65 now, and I’m still as motivated as I was at 20.


Virginie: Your creativity is undeniable, and it extends far beyond your hats. When did you decide that hats would become your passion and career?


Elvis: I studied art for six years and initially wanted to become an artist or work in a more artistic field. I’ve always been drawn to fashion, but it was around the age of 18 that I really began to develop a passion for it, even though everything I loved already existed at the time—from the early days of Jean Paul Gaultier, Azzedine Alaïa, and Thierry Mugler. As a child, my mother would make things for me, and I would already direct her—“make this smaller, change this shape.” I’ve always had a kind of 3D vision, which is essential when designing hats and accessories. Making hats came very naturally. I worked in a vintage shop where I started creating pieces from fabric scraps, and the owner encouraged me to continue. I then met a theatre milliner, learned the basics, and simply kept going. I used to go to the Mirano club in Brussels, which at the time was the place to be for anyone in fashion or design. Stylists would come up to me asking, “Who made your hat?” and I would simply say, “I did.” From there, I started making pieces for shows. It all developed very organically—I never forced anything, I just let it happen.


Virginie: I understand that very well—I have the same thing with shoes.  


Elvis: Yes, you need to let things happen. But you also need to take risks. I wasn’t wealthy, my parents didn’t support me financially. I took out a loan and moved to Brussels. And at the time, everyone in Liège thought I was crazy. Because hats were considered outdated—something for older women. I modernised them: softer shapes, contemporary designs for both women and men. It worked immediately. From the very start, demand grew quickly. I always stayed grounded, though. Whether I made a hat for a queen or for a regular client, I always approached it with the same intention. 


Virginie: I remember from when I was young, your name was often in the press. 


Elvis: Yes, because I generally had a good relationship with people, and my work was very different from anything at the time, which attracted press attention. I’ve been featured in many important magazines, such as Vogue US and Vogue Italia, but I have never changed my way of working. I’ve always kept both feet on the ground. Every time I start something new, I still feel a bit of stress, even after forty years of experience. But I think we are never done learning.


Virginie: If you hadn’t become a milliner, what would you have done?


Elvis: I think, in any case, something artistic—perhaps sculpture or painting. I was always strong in those disciplines, but my passion for fashion ultimately prevailed. When I started, the first important hat I made was a cap with a completely new shape. I had to create the wooden block myself, because the form simply didn’t exist. That was when I quickly understood how essential the shape is, whether in wood or plaster. In hat-making, shape is everything, and it also defined the foundation of my career.  Later, when I worked on haute couture collections for houses like Chanel, Ann Demeulemeester, and Missoni, or for brands like yours, shape always remained the starting point. Most designers—99%—buy ready-made blocks and only work on the surface. I can respond to any request because I make everything myself, from the raw piece of wood to the finished hat.


Virginie: That’s the big difference with more commercial hat brands. Your shapes belong to you—they’re yours. 


Elvis: That’s right—and it allows me to constantly bring something new. Volume is the most important element. One centimetre can change everything: how a hat sits on the face, whether it is long or round. Some faces cannot carry a high crown, others cannot wear something too small. There are many factors to consider.

A hat is incredibly powerful; it defines and highlights personality. You can dress someone entirely in black, but add a cowboy hat and suddenly they become a different character. Change the hat, and you change the identity. It defines a style.


Virginie: So you really have to analyse the morphology of the person wearing the hat? 


Elvis: Absolutely. It’s not just about the face, it’s also psychological. For someone very extravagant, you sometimes need to tone it down. For someone shy, you can gently push them. You have to build confidence.



Virginie: How many steps are involved in making a hat?


Elvis: It depends. There’s the concept, the design, the shape, the materials, the creation, the finishing… It can take five to seven main steps—but in reality, there are many more. Some hats take 15 minutes, others take four days. Since the beginning of my career, I’ve never worked for money. I just told myself: if I can simply make a living doing this, that’s enough.


Virginie: A hat can transform a silhouette, just like a pair of heels. Do you see any parallels between hats and footwear in the way they empower someone?


Elvis: Absolutely, for example, a badly worn shoe can ruin a silhouette and so can a badly chosen hat. Both reflect personality. Shoes are often the first thing people notice. 


Virginie: It’s always the first thing I notice. 


Elvis: It reflects people’s personality. It’s very important—someone who wears well-kept shoes is rarely someone who is careless about themselves. I’ve always paid attention to them. In fact, I observe everything—not just shoes. I analyse a lot, because in my profession, you have to. You need to truly see the person in front of you.


Virginie:  You have to analyse the person to create their perfect hat, and that’s even more complex than with shoes. That’s actually a big difference. You can sell the same pair of shoes to fifty women, but you can’t do that with a hat.


Elvis: That’s true. A hat is quite intimate; it engages directly with the face. Shoes shape the body, influencing posture, movement, and confidence. A hat frames the face—it is the first encounter and the first impression. It is about finding the one that feels right. 


Virginie: Your work feels cinematic. If it belonged to a film universe, which would it be?


Elvis: I think it would be an Almadóvar film. I love the atmosphere, the colours, the originality, the lively people, the bizarreness and festivity of things. But I could also imagine cinema from the 1950s—I would have loved to design a hat for Marilyn Monroe. Even Charli Chaplin’s films. I think there is something great about all the different eras; they all have their distinct make-up, clothing, and hats. 

I especially love the 1940s—before and after the war. People had very little and had to create with almost nothing. The creativity was very strong. When I just started out, I would go vintage shopping and look for clothing made with beautiful fabrics. I would deconstruct them and make hats out of them. 


Virginie: Fashion moves very fast today, whereas craftsmanship asks for patience. Do you ever feel resistance to that speed? 


Elvis: I’m a very creative person, and so I like the speed of ideas and creation. I love developing new collections, exploring new volumes and new materials. It has never really bothered me. To be honest, I’ve never paid much attention to how the industry works. My approach has always been artisanal. I have produced a lot, but never with a focus on quantity or speed—it was always about creation. 

But at one point, I chose to take a step back from most boutiques and from the international scale, because I didn’t want to lose the joy of what I do. I didn’t want to become disconnected from my passion. I wanted to continue at my own rhythm. For twenty years, I worked seven days a week, and I would do it all over again. I met so many incredible people and it allowed me to do things I never imagined I was capable of. You have to push yourself and go beyond your limits. 


Virginie: Yes, exactly. That moment when you surpass yourself, that’s where the real joy is. When you see the final result and realise it’s even better than what you imagined. On that note, what’s the most beautiful compliment you’ve ever received?


Elvis: I’m bad with compliments because I forget them easily. 


Virginie: For me, the biggest compliment is when I see a woman trying on a pair of our shoes and her behaviour changes—she feels more confident, more beautiful. But I consider that a compliment for everyone who works for MOROBÉ. 


Elvis: Exactly, when you see someone get stars in their eyes. But the most meaningful moments are when young clients come in and tell me that they’ve been saving up for months to buy a hat, or when older clients tell me they still wear a hat I made 35 years ago. Those are the greatest compliments.