MWEG 2024 recipient Madison Hough shares her experiences working at the Museum of the Order of St John to research and digitise its extensive and largely unseen uniform collection, focusing on revealing the hidden sartorial stories woven into the nursing hat collection.
Thanks to the generous support of the Costume Society Work Experience Grant, I have had the invaluable opportunity over the past six months to undertake an in-depth project at the Museum of the Order of St John. This funding allowed me to collaborate with the Museum’s curatorial team to research and digitise its extensive and largely unseen uniform collection, focusing on revealing the hidden sartorial stories woven into the nursing hat collection.
The grant made this project possible – not only financially but also by enabling me to expand my skill set and deepen my understanding of archival and collections-based research, material culture analysis and the inner workings of museums. A significant portion of the funding was used for object photography training with Matt Spour. After an intensive training day, I was entrusted to work my way through photography for the hat collection. The images I created are now permanently housed in the Museum’s online catalogue, and several are featured in the digital exhibition I curated as part of the project.
The project, born from a digitisation initiative, evolved into a broader research inquiry into how uniforms, particularly headgear, have functioned as symbols of gender, labour and power. Drawing on First Aid Journals, dress regulations, and related material objects, I conducted archival and collections-based research to build a historical narrative. What emerged was a story of transformation – how the Nursing Sisters of the Order of St John used their uniforms as tools of empowerment and recognition, negotiating their place within a male-dominated medical and military structure.
The development of nursing uniforms over time reveals broader shifts in societal values and gender norms. 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. Their uniforms, modelled on professional nurse attire, carried both practical and symbolic weight, reinforcing the idea of women as natural caregivers, while also elevating their work within public health and civil service.
The cultural politics of the uniform have long been used as a tool of modern civility, demarcating the modern self as ‘normatively male and transgressively female’ (Craik, 2003, pp.143). During the Napoleonic period, the uniform became weaponised as a display of power, embodying masculine attributes aligned with notions of militarism, heroism and might. The spectacle of uniform thus came to embody masculine ideals. In the twentieth century, 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. Especially during times of national crisis, the act of wearing a uniform became a form of public service and a symbol of modern citizenship.
Foucault’s concept of the “disciplinary state” also informed my analysis: uniform checks, competitions, and strict dress regulations within the Order created a structured, regimented workforce that mirrored military systems. Despite adopting aspects of masculine identity, nurses continued to face gendered limitations in recognition and remuneration.
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 with 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 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.
This project has offered me an extraordinary window into how uniforms reflect and construct gendered identities, and how women in service roles navigated these tensions. From religious roots to military-influenced styles, the nursing uniform reflects the professionalisation of care and the changing roles of women in public life. It has been a privilege to explore these histories – and none of it would have been possible without the support of the Costume Society's Museum Work Experience Grant.
