Melting the ICE: From Norwegian Nisselue to Modern Protest
From homespun cloth in anti-colonial movements to coded knitting used by wartime spies, craft has long served as a subtle but potent form of protest. In Minnesota, the red hat has resurfaced as one such symbol of solidarity. Its bright colour catches the eye first, but the story behind it runs much deeper. Across knitting groups and yarn shops, makers have been casting on the Melt the ICE hat: a simple, bright-red cap stitched with a discreet but defiant message. What began as a small, local response has travelled quickly through craft circles, patterns shared online and proceeds often directed toward aid for affected families.
The hat’s significance lies not only in its meaning, but in its form. Its shape deliberately echoes the red caps worn by members of the Norwegian resistance during the Second World War, when such humble, handmade garments became coded signs of unity under occupation. Then, as now, wearing a red hat was less about spectacle and more about recognition in a muted signal passed from one person to another.
Part of a series of ten Christmas cards illustrated by Frank Wathne in 1941. They were immediately banned. Image: ©Frank Wathne / BONO 2023.
In Norway, the red knitted cap (or nisselue) had long belonged to folklore. It was the hat of the nisse, the barn-dwelling gnome-like spirit said to protect a farm when treated kindly, or cause mischief when neglected. Soft, pointed and often finished with a tassel, it was a familiar symbol of winter, domestic ritual and handmade tradition
During the war, however, the hat took on a new role. Under Nazi occupation, Norwegian flags and national symbols were suppressed, and even Christmas cards were censored. When illustrated cards featuring the red-hatted nisse were banned, people found another way to express their identity. They began wearing red knitted caps instead. The gesture was small, almost playful, but unmistakable as a sign of solidarity.
Red woollen caps on display at the Hjemmefrontmuseet in Oslo, Norway. The newspaper clipping reads: "Warning. Red top hats. The use of red top hats has increased so much in recent times that it is now considered a demonstration. The use of these hats is therefore prohibited as of Thursday, February 26, 1942. From this day on, top hats will be taken away from anyone who acts in such a way, and criminal liability will be imposed on the person concerned - for children under 14 years of age - against their parents or guardians. Trondhelm Police Chamber, February 23, 1942"
The practice spread quickly. By early 1942, the authorities recognised its meaning and banned the hats altogether. A police notice declared that the “use of red top hats” had become a demonstration and was therefore prohibited, with punishment threatened even for children. That a knitted cap could be outlawed reveals the symbolic power of everyday craft. In the Norwegian Resistance Museum in Oslo, two such hats now sit alongside weapons and radio transmitters — proof that resistance is not always loud or armed.
Women wearing nisselue, from the liberation days in Oslo, May 1945. Photo: Scanpix.
The red hat’s power lay in its gentleness. It embodied menneskeverd, the intrinsic worth of every human being, a concept central to Norwegian resistance literature. On 26 February, people are encouraged to wear a red hat in remembrance of the 1942 ban and in support of democracy, unity and human dignity. In its own modest way, the red hat reminds us that craft is never merely decorative. Sometimes, even the simplest knitted cap can carry the weight of hope.
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Further Information:
If you would like to make a Melt the Ice hat, there are many, many patterns available online for both knitted and crochet versions. The options we have shared here help to support families affected by recent events, are running collections of donations, or are raising awareness and funds through craft related events:
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Image Credits:
Lead: Melt the Ice hat, courtesy of Gather
All further images as credited in photo captions.