Ask anyone, anywhere in the world, to draw a French person.
Chances are, a baguette under their arm will appear, maybe a marinière… and a small beret perched on their head.
The cliché makes us smile. Yet, behind it lies quite an astonishing story.
For the beret was not born in Parisian cafés, nor on the quays of the Seine. Long before becoming a fashion accessory or a symbol of France, it was primarily a practical head covering worn in the Pyrenees.
So how did this modest wool headgear, worn notably by the shepherds of Béarn, manage to travel so far?
To understand this, we must leave Paris and head back towards the mountains.
In the beginning, a head covering made for the mountains
Long before hat shop windows, the beret was part of the daily life of the Pyrenean populations.
Its principle is remarkably simple: wool worked and then felted to obtain a dense, flexible, and resistant material.
For a shepherd who spends long hours outdoors, the qualities are obvious. The beret protects the head from cold and bad weather, is easy to transport, and does not hinder movement.
No particular search for elegance, then.
Originally, the beret was primarily a useful object.
Its history is particularly linked to Béarn, at the foot of the Pyrenees, where it was notably worn by shepherds before spreading far beyond its region of origin.
And one detail is particularly telling: when the French army became interested in this headgear at the end of the 19th century, they themselves spoke of the "Béarnais beret".
The future symbol of France thus began its career far from the Parisian boulevards.
But then… why is it called a "Basque beret"?
This is one of the small paradoxes of its history.
In the collective imagination, the beret is often called the "Basque beret". Yet, its history and traditional manufacture are strongly linked to neighboring Béarn.
So, how did this name come about?
The answer is less simple than a charming legend.
The beret was worn in different regions of the Pyrenees, and its use obviously did not stop at the cultural borders we know today. Over time, the expression "Basque beret" spread widely in France and then abroad, becoming much more famous than the name "Béarnais beret."
A frequently told story involves Napoleon III. During his stays in Biarritz in the 19th century, the emperor reportedly saw these headdresses worn in the region and simply called them "Basque."
The anecdote is delightful. But it is more a frequently repeated legend than a firmly established historical event.
What we do know, however, is that the name "Basque beret" eventually became firmly entrenched in people's minds, while Béarn maintained a significant manufacturing tradition.
And while its name traveled, the beret itself was about to leave the Pyrenees for a rather unexpected destination: the French army.
When the army adopted the beret
At the end of the 19th century, the beret gradually left its purely rural context.
In 1888, France created the Alpine Hunters, troops specially trained for mountain combat. Their equipment naturally had to adapt to the cold, wind, and sometimes difficult conditions of the Alps.
And on their heads appeared a head covering we already know: the Béarnais beret.
In 1889, it officially became their standard headgear.
Flexible, warm, robust, and compact, it had serious advantages for soldiers operating in the mountains.
But their beret was nothing like the small, neatly tilted model later associated with Parisian terraces.
It was immense.
With its thirty-centimeter diameter crown—some models exceeding 30 cm—it was significantly wider than a classic beret and extended widely around the head. It quickly earned a particularly French nickname:
"la tarte" (the tart).
The name stuck.
This large dark "tart" became one of the distinctive signs of the Alpine Hunters and helped the beret emerge from its region of origin.
For our small Pyrenean headwear, this was an important step.
It was associated with a region and its inhabitants.
Now, French soldiers wore it as part of their uniform.
The beret began to enter national history.
From mountains to cities
While the army gave it new visibility, the beret pursued another, much more discreet journey: that of everyday life.
In the 19th century, its manufacture developed in Béarn. What was once artisanal production gradually took on an industrial dimension, particularly around Nay and Oloron-Sainte-Marie, where several factories were established.
The beret could then be produced in larger quantities and travel far beyond the Pyrenean valleys.
And it had a serious advantage: it was suitable for real life.
Flexible, sturdy, and compact, it could be folded and slipped into a pocket. It protected the head without the rigidity of many hats of the time and remained simple enough for daily work.
It was thus found on the heads of farmers, laborers, and artisans. Gradually, the beret ceased to be solely associated with the shepherds of the Pyrenees.
It reached the villages, then the cities.
This spread changed something essential: to become a national symbol, an object must first become familiar.
And the beret was in the process of becoming just that.
At the beginning of the 20th century, its round and immediately recognizable silhouette now belonged to the French landscape.
But being known throughout a country is not yet enough to become one of its symbols.
For that, others would have to embrace it: artists, fashion… and especially images.
When the beret changed status
Through its circulation, the beret eventually moved beyond being just practical clothing.
In the early 20th century, it was still found on the heads of workers, peasants, and soldiers, but it also appeared in other spheres. Artists, painters, and intellectuals helped give it a more bohemian image, while fashion began to take an interest in its simple and recognizable shape.
And something quite astonishing happened: a head covering associated with work and the rural world also became a women's fashion accessory. Even today, classic berets retain this immediately recognizable shape, while playing with materials, colors, and ways of wearing them.
In the 1930s, the beret was worn with more freedom. Tilted to the side, pulled back, or placed almost straight on the head, it could change its look without truly changing its shape.
Cinema also contributed to this new image. French actresses appeared wearing berets, and the accessory gradually entered a more elegant and urban imagination.
Haute couture even eventually embraced it. In 1949, Christian Dior notably presented a beret in his collections, now far removed from the headwear of Pyrenean shepherds.
This is perhaps one of the most astonishing peculiarities of the beret: it changes identity depending on the person wearing it.
On a shepherd, it appears utilitarian.
On a soldier, military.
On a painter, bohemian.
On an actress, elegant.
Its shape, however, remains almost immediately recognizable.
And this very simple silhouette has a precious quality for the rest of our story: it is easy to transform into an image and a symbol.
And cinema eventually created "the Frenchman"
But before cinema got involved, a very real silhouette had perhaps already helped establish the image of the Frenchman in a beret, particularly in Great Britain.
From the 19th century onwards, Breton onion merchants, mainly from the Roscoff region, regularly crossed the English Channel to sell their harvest. The British called them Onion Johnnies.
Some traveled through towns and countryside by bicycle, their bikes laden with long braids of onions. With their berets and, for some, their marinières, they offered their British customers a particularly recognizable image of their French neighbors.
Their silhouette is said to have contributed to one of the most persistent clichés: the Frenchman in a beret and marinière.
Then came photographs, posters, advertising, and especially cinema.
To tell a story quickly, an image needs easily recognizable signs.
An Eiffel Tower places Paris.
A baguette evokes France.
A marinière brings France to mind.
And a beret on a head can be enough to make the viewer understand:
"This character is French."
Repeated often enough, the shortcut becomes a cliché.
And the cliché sometimes ends up being better known abroad than the reality it claims to represent.
Not all French people obviously walk around with a baguette under their arm and a beret on their head. But the association has become so strong that it continues to function long after the time when the beret was truly part of the daily lives of many French people.
The small Pyrenean headwear has thus become a kind of graphic shorthand for France.
A French symbol… that does not belong only to France
Yet, there remains one last paradox.
At the very moment the beret became one of the most recognizable symbols of France, it traveled far beyond its borders.
Armies from many countries adopted it. Artists and political movements appropriated it. International fashion, in turn, reinvented it. And across the Pyrenees, in Spain, the boina had long been part of the landscape.
The beret can thus evoke extremely different worlds depending on the place, time, or person wearing it.
And yet, in the international collective imagination, its association with France remains astonishingly strong.
So, is the beret truly French?
The answer is less obvious than it seems—and deserves a story all its own.
From Pyrenean shepherd to French icon
The story of the beret ultimately tells much more than that of a simple accessory.
Born from a very concrete need—to protect the head from cold and bad weather—it traveled with those who wore it. From Pyrenean pastures to barracks, from Béarnese workshops to cities, then from fashion to cinema, its meaning has constantly evolved.
The shepherds who wore it for work would undoubtedly have been surprised to learn that one day, this modest wool headwear would help represent all of France to the world.
Perhaps this is what makes everyday accessories so interesting: behind a shape we think we know sometimes lie centuries of travel, trades, encounters, and human stories.
The next time you see a beret, you may no longer see just a French symbol.
You will also glimpse, somewhere behind it, the Pyrenees.
Sources and for further reading
- Académie française – "Béret": for the etymology of the word, derived from the Béarnais berret, and the Pyrenean origins of the headwear. Consult the entry "Béret"
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Musée du Béret de Nay: for the history of the beret in Béarn, its traditional manufacture, and its evolution from Béarnese pastures to fashion. The museum also presents the story of Napoleon III and the "Basque beret" as a legend, which reinforces our caution in the article.
Discover the Beret Museum -
Ministère des Armées – TerreMag, "La tarte, couvre-chef des troupes de montagne": for the adoption of the Béarnais beret by the Alpine Hunters, its thirty-centimeter diameter, and its nickname "tarte". The source precisely states 1889 for its official adoption.
Read the history of "la tarte" -
Palais Galliera – Musée de la Mode de la Ville de Paris: for the beret created by Christian Dior for his autumn-winter 1949 collection, preserved in the museum's collections.
See the 1949 Christian Dior beret -
Maison des Johnnies et de l'Oignon de Roscoff: for the history of the Breton onion merchants who went to sell their produce in Great Britain from the 19th century onwards.
Discover the history of the Johnnies