A Peek Inside the Oldest Shop in Groningen

The building of H. Witting en Zoon, dating back to 1778 © Justīne Kozlovska

H. Witting en Zoon is Groningen’s oldest hat shop, where time stands still amid the charm of vintage hats and friendly banter. It's owned by two brothers, Arnold and Sietze Bakker, who bring humor and expertise to every customer interaction, drawing on over a century of family tradition. 

“We were born under this counter,” says Arnold Bakker, pointing at a dark antique wood table in the left corner of the store. Its surface, worn with deep scratches, bears the marks of time.

“Really? Seriously?"

“Maybe we were made on the counter. We don't know,” he says, patting his brother Sietze on the shoulder. 

Arnold and Sietze Bakkers were (literally) born into H. Witting en Zoon, a hat store and manufacturer, formerly owned by their father. Having spent a large part of their childhood playing among hats, the brothers took over the shop 25 years ago. And for all that time, it's just been the two of them. 

Arnold Bakker, the co-owner wearing a shirt that says “A lot of hat for such little boots” © Justīne Kozlovska

It opened its doors in 1876, but the building, painted a soft, weathered white, dates back even further, to the late eighteenth century. However, the true charm lies within the shop’s interior. Stepping into H. Witting en Zoon is like unlocking a meticulously preserved time capsule. The moment customers cross the threshold, a bell chimes, announcing their arrival into a hat lover’s paradise. 

Moss-green shelves wrap around the shop’s walls, holding 20-storey stacks of hats in every shape, color and form. Christmas trees made of more hats dangle from the ceiling and mannequin heads dressed in baby pink berets enjoy a bird's eye view of this extraordinary shop. Three retro lamps illuminate patches of stained glass on the wall. 

“Nothing has changed since 1914, even the cash register is the same,” says Sietze. He points at a magnificently embroidered mountain of multilayered silver – a cash register pedestalled on a wooden platform. He turns a crank handle and a crisp ka-ching echoes through the store; the cash drawer bounces open. “In 1914, it cost 800 guilders, those days you could buy a house for that price,” he says.

“Everything is from then; everything is old. Also my brother,” Arnold laughs. Sietze is three years older. 

Arnold leads me outside and points to a late 20th-century building across the street, “This is the only thing that has changed.” 

During WW2, the right side of the Oosterstraat was destroyed. H. Witting en Zoon, however, remained untouched and frozen in time. 

“We keep everything the same. Why not? We've done it for 140 years. Change it for what? Why? It's good,” Arnold says confidently and sharply. 

A cash register from 1914 © Justīne Kozlovska

“The people come in and they love it. It's also a lot of history. History, you don't change it,” 

Sietze nods in agreement. 

Dzin dzin. The doorbell announces hat-searchers entering the store. Sietze is there to greet them. 

Shopping at H. Witting en Zoon is an individually tailored experience. The brothers apply their vast knowledge and large assortment to ensure each customer finds the right hat. 

“On every head. On every face. You can, if you have the knowledge, put on the right hat,” says Arnold. “There's not one that fits all, but we have 15 sizes. So for everybody, the right size on everyone’s head.”

Not only do hats at H. Witting en Zoon fit all head sizes, here, customers can find hats that fit different generations and preferences. The brothers are well aware of the cycle of hat fashion. Arnold explains that each design becomes trendy again over time. “That is why we have everything,” he says, pointing to the seemingly endless hat assortment. 

Bucket hats, rain hats, peaky blinders hats, beanies, caps, cowboy hats; any model requested the brothers magically summon from the shelves within minutes. 

For them, every season is a hat season. “We have every style. Summer, winter. We sell all year round, always. We're not like some shops where it's only for, is it hip, trendy for one or two years and then finished,” says Arnold. 

Everyone who steps into H. Witting en Zoon is welcomed as a fellow seeker of the perfect hat – including me.

“I'm usually not a hat person, but you are starting to convince me.”

“Yes. Of course. Everybody can wear a hat. Everybody,” says Sietze. 

Some of the hats available in the shop © Justīne Kozlovska

He examines my face and clothing then matches me with potential hat candidates. It's like a hat Tinder and the choice is immensely important. 

Sietze keeps pulling various hats from all corners of the shop and placing them on my head. In my short time in the shop, I have tried on a bigger variety of hats than in my whole lifetime. 

I try on a pink hat with a black bow, a black fedora, a white fluffy hat made of Puna wool, a black newsboy hat, and others.

“Sietze likes it when you wear something like this one. I mean, we make it for every woman to buy, some to take a photo with him,” Arnold laughs as I am trying on a black elegant hat.

As hat-searchers fill the room, chatter and laughter bounce off the walls. The owners and customers interact like old friends gone shopping together, exchanging jokes and stories.  

Without warning, Arnold shouts to a male customer trying on a green, old-school hat, “Can that woman maybe take a picture of you?” 

“Of me?” 

“Yes, you are just busy with your BMW. The question is, she is busy with her studies, so she needs to interview you,” Arnold jokes.

The store embodies such amicable and radiant energy, it persuades each customer to hang around a bit longer. Arnold says, “Selling and talking, talking and selling. And meeting other people also, the combination, that is good, and a nice day.” 

H. Witting en Zoon customer © Justīne Kozlovska

H. Witting en Zoon is more than a shop; it is a social hotspot. “Every day, you meet nice people, if you do the thing that you do, and laugh, there's no problem. If you come on a Friday afternoon, you can drink a bourbon or a wine, there's no problem,” Albert explains. On the green shelf, behind a handmade antique glass proudly stands a bottle of John B. Stetson bourbon. 

As customers leave one by one, H. Witting en Zoon bags in hand, the store falls deeper into silence.

“Do you ever play any music in the shop?”

“Why? You can talk. With music, you cannot talk,” Arnold replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world – which, in fact, it is.

Besides hats, H. Witting en Zoon also sells other accessories. “Underwear, gloves, walking sticks, umbrellas, scarves, bow ties, ties, cufflinks, handkerchiefs, braces, many, many things. But people mostly come for the hats,” says Arnold. 

The accessories are predominantly stored near the entrance. A human-sized poster of a male underwear model hangs on the door. The wall opposite is decorated with a large variety of men’s boxers. 

“Is this a swimsuit?” I point to a bright women’s thong. 

“It's underwear. Or, for your mouth. You can choose,” Arnold flips the thong around and mimics putting it on his face. I laugh. 

Once all customers have safely found their desired hats, Sietze returns.

“It's raining,” he declares.

“Outside?”

“Yes.”

“Right now?”

“Yes. You don't believe it?”

“Oh, I do believe it.”

“So you need a rain hat. A purple one,” he says as he reaches to get one from the hat stand.