Local entrepreneur using his head

Andrew Ferri's family and friends know him as an honor student, an entrepreneur, a food buff, a theater enthusiast and an avid collector. But what Andrew Ferri wants to be known as most is The Hat Maker to the Stars.

Ferri, a senior theater design major at Point Park University, has taken his studies far beyond classroom requirements to make his mark, both personally and professionally, in the world of hat making. With few millinery purists posing as competition, the road to fame -- or at least to satisfaction -- is wide open to this local talent. And if skill and determination are a prerequisite for making it big in this industry, then he's ahead of his game, fueling his aspirations from an apparently inexhaustible supply of imagination and energy.

"I've been interested in the theater since I was a kid," the 22-year-old admits, "especially in backstage activity." But his foray into the world of hat designing and development was serendipitous. It was the summer of 2002 and he was interning at the West Virginia Public Theater (WVPT) in Morgantown, W.Va. The production was "My Fair Lady."

"The costume designer handed me a book and said, 'Make me a hat.'" Ferri had only seven days to fashion a headpiece to complement the costume of the female lead. He studied the photos in the book and set to work, collecting materials to fashion Eliza's ornate, feather-plumed black and white wide-brimmed hat. On opening night no less than six Andrew Ferri Originals debuted. The rest, as they say, is history. He went on from there to work in set and costume design and creating headpieces for Penn-Trafford High School, the Pittsburgh Playhouse and CMU'S "Scotch On Soda."

Joan Markert, Point Park University instructor and costume shop manager at the Pittsburgh Playhouse, worked with Ferri on the recent Pittsburgh Playhouse production, "Dangerous Liaisons," for which the young haberdasher created a circa 1780s hat. He went from that task directly into creating a hat for "Elliott and the Magic Bed," a children's musical.

"Andrew tends to light all over the place when working on a production; he just mushrooms," she says, "but his forte is definitely the hat."

Markert adds that Andrew is a visionary.

"Sometimes he works from a pattern," she says, "but mostly he works from his head."

Why the interest in hats?

"Hats finish a costume," he explains with subtle intensity, "and they ultimately make a statement regarding the character or the social position of the wearer. On the stage a preposterous hat might identify a flamboyant or outrageous character while a simple elegant headpiece may define another character's demure personality."

Ferri has had no formal millinery training, but he aspires to apprentice with a respected Broadway/New York City milliner after his senior year at Point Park. In the meantime he researches history books and other pertinent literature when designing period pieces, studying photos of a completed item and then replicating the article according to script or costume designer's specs. He is a voracious reader and pores over period fashion references, surfs the Web and studies the most prominent designers in the industry to expand his knowledge and idea base.

Not one to flinch when a challenge presents itself, this Penn Trafford graduate eagerly accepts assignments that might intimidate a more seasoned milliner. If a project calls for materials the production company cannot provide, Ferri kicks his inventiveness into high gear to get the job done, using materials on hand or borrowing from his own private stash of materials and accessories to complete the article. When the final curtain drops, he claims the article as his own and adds it to his personal collection.

As for his own stash, Ferri shops secondhand stores, yard sales, flea markets and estate auctions for unusual or specific hats and accessory items -- costume jewelry, netting, lace, feathers, buttons, ribbon, silk and dried flowers.

"Almost anything goes," he says. "I used to buy everything I saw, but now I'm more particular," he confesses, surveying his vast collection of baubles and feathers, "although if the hat isn't to my liking, I dismantle it and use various components to accessorize other hats."

Family and friends who encourage his passion are always on the lookout for the unusual.

Ferri has acquired materials under less orthodox circumstances.

"One night I came upon a pheasant that had just had an encounter of the final kind with a moving vehicle," he recalled. "I drove past it looking at the beautiful feathers and, then, after three passes, I stopped and scooped it up. To make a long story short," he conceded, "salt and other preservatives have ensured his immortality."

And there was the time when his resourcefulness got him into hot water on the homefront.

"I was creating the headpieces for 'Jungle Book' for the Pittsburgh Playhouse and was looking for something colorful to fashion a monkey's headdress. I found this interesting piece of cloth at home and thought it was just perfect. It wasn't until after I cut it and used the fabric that I learned the 'cloth' was my sister's Hollister shirt," he admits sheepishly. "I sure paid for that one."

The Boquet native resides with his parents and two younger siblings in a 130-plus-year-old farmhouse that reflects the family's love and appreciation for history, restoration and preservation. His mother, Lynne, collects vintage clothes and furnishings, and his father, Dan, a local restaurateur, has a passion for vintage cars.

"I guess I come by my love for all things old -- and for food presentation, honestly," he says. He began collecting antique artifacts at an early age and the fascination evolved to include period costumes and hats. He's particularly fond of the furnishings and fashions of the Victorian and Edwardian ages, but his collections are peppered with artifacts from numerous eras.

Unlike most "collections," Ferri's treasures do more than collect dust. He drafts many of his antiques to serve as props for observances and celebrations with family and friends. On several occasions he combined his talent for food presentation and items from his vast array of artifacts to create period dinners, simulating as many aspects of the chosen period as it was possible for him to re-create. Undaunted by the breadth and scope of these undertakings, he choreographed the menu and its presentation as well as designed the table settings. The final touch was to outfit the guests, both male and female, from his costume collection in dress to complement the chosen period.

"Last Christmas, I even put my grandmother into a ball gown. It didn't fit her and so I covered her up in a mink wrap. The wrap slipped and revealed a bit too much grandmotherly flesh," he recalled, with an impish grin. "It was a memorable soiree, for sure."

Nowhere is his love of "all things old," for vintage theater props and period apparel more apparent than in The Building on the Ferri homestead where a regulation-sized pool table and a rack of Pound Puppies share space with antique furniture and a few modern amenities. Nearly every nook and cranny of the orderly room showcases an eclectic collection ranging from cash registers and cameras to ornate mirrors and picture frames to tintype sepia photographs and overstuffed sofas. Collectables are displayed on racks or hangers, on dresser tops or strung from the ceiling. Running lights tacked to theater marquees lend a surreal touch to this private museum. Exterior plaques leave no doubt as to the subject matter inside.

The interior furnishings and accessories, however, only serve as a backdrop for Ferri's enormous collection of hats -- men's and women's hats -- theater headgear and the "hat-tire" of ordinary folk ... flamboyant bejeweled creations and typical straw hats, atypically trimmed ala Ferri.

A 44-foot-long ceiling rude beam is adorned with headwear. Flat surfaces serve to display turbans, scarfs and one of the elaborate black and white Ascot Race hats he replicated for the WVPT production of "My Fair Lady." Hat racks and faceless millinery head busts are outfitted with chapeaus trimmed in feathers, flowers, veils, pearls and faux pax jewels. There are brimless hats and hats with brims that are nearly as wide as an arm is long.

"Perhaps they were meant to keep strangers at a distance," Ferri surmises, when asked about the historical purpose and design of the extra wide-brimmed hats.

Among the many articles displayed on the walls of his gallery are 13 matching black and pink wide-brimmed hats Ferri designed and created for the 2003 WVPT production of "Will Rogers Follies." Also on display are a 1920s woman's cloche and a man's black top hat as well as other period headpieces. Of further interest are project sketch boards detailing brocade ball gowns and mid-1800s formal head-to-toe attire as well as for the headdresses he designed and hand-stitched for the Point Park production of "Jekyll and Hyde."

Stashed behind an eye-catching red and yellow 8-foot-by-8-foot marquee -- Ferri's replication of a promo board for "Me and My Girl" -- are yet more headdresses, many in vintage hat boxes. The arrangements appear to be systematically organized.

"I know where everything is -- er, well, almost everything," he says, alluding to one of the few unmarked storage boxes.

In recent months, word of Ferri's millinery skill has taken him slightly "off-stage" to accept several private commissions. According to Ilana Levari of Pittsburgh's Squirrel Hill neighborhood, Ferri is a "haberdasher extraordinaire."

"I was in quite a pickle, unable to find a hat to match the plum pink dress I was to wear to my son's wedding," she recalls. "And, then, a friend of mine with connections to the Pittsburgh Playhouse suggested I contact this Andrew Ferri, 'a miracle worker when it comes to hats,' said my friend. He certainly lived up to his reputation, adding to the joy of one of the happiest days of my life."

Mrs. Levari quickly trusted Ferri to rescue her.

"He photographed me in the dress and talked with me at length, framing my personality in his head before he ever picked up a piece of wedding dress fabric to create a 'miracle' for me," she recalls.

"In no time at all, Andrew appeared with a beautiful hat box and lifted from it a creation I can only describe as 'absolute confection.'

"It was perfect," she states, "and I wore it from before the ceremony until after the reception. In fact," she laughs, "next to the bride, my hat got the most attention."

Ferri understands that determination and self-confidence will go a long way toward realizing his goals but that they are no guarantee he'll be making it big on The Great White Way or in Hollywood. Nor will he second guess as to where his present interest in millinery design and creating will ultimately take him.

"Pittsburgh is a closed city for this kind of design work," he says with muted resignation. "Most of the Downtown and Oakland theaters are associated with the universities. I'd probably have to go to New York or California if I decide to make a living at this."

The issue of moving from this area is a sensitive one. On weekends and during school breaks and summer vacation, Ferri apprentices in the family business, The Lamplighter Restaurant in Delmont: his ties to home, family and the family enterprises are strong.

"I know what I'd like to do," he says, "but I also know where my greatest security lies."

If persistence pays (and it usually does), Ferri may one day find his name imprinted in a Broadway playbill as Hat Maker to the Stars. Should life toss him some lemons along the way (and it usually does), he'll do what any enterprising imaginative milliner would do: scrunch a little netting around them, glue a few baubles to them and tuck a feather and a twig of dried lavender behind them.

It will be just another day in the life of a haberdasher extraordinaire.

Nancy A. Clark is an Export freelance writer for the Tribune-Review.