Everyday life on Galveston Island has always left room for spectacle - and Megan Maberry has built a career in that space. As the artist and founder of Hurricane Headdress, Maberry creates bold, wearable art: crowns crafted from feathers, florals, jewels, and one-of-a-kind handmade objects. Each piece is designed to turn heads and spark conversation. 

 Her work speaks to those who refuse to blend in - individuals who believe that every moment, whether a Mardi Gras ball, a milestone birthday, or an ordinary night out, deserves to be special and unapologetically glamorous. 

 The name Hurricane Headdress emerged during what Maberry describes as a liminal moment. “The name came to me in a dream,” she said. 

 “That small space where you wake up but aren’t fully awake - that’s when I get my best ideas. I have to write them down immediately, or they’re gone.” 

 

 For a Gulf Coast native, the word hurricane carries meaning far beyond weather reports. It speaks to resilience, recovery, and the deliberate choice to live fully despite uncertainty. 

 “We always know disaster is a possibility,” she said, “and we choose to live large and full on this sandbar anyway.” 

 That philosophy is both geographic and deeply personal. Maberry lost her mother at 21. By 28, she was starting over with three small children. 

 “I think a lot of people can relate to those moments,” she said, “the ones that make you realize life is short.” 

 Her advice is as direct as it is joyful: “Go to the events. Wear the headdress. Take the photos. Make the memories.” 

 Maberry considers her work a form of wearable art, a perspective shaped by the people and experiences that influenced her. One of the most significant was Danny Morgan, a Broadway-trained costume designer who relocated to Galveston during Houston philanthropist George Mitchell’s revival of Mardi Gras. 

 

 Mitchell’s support - both financial and philosophical - helped restore Galveston’s historic downtown and reestablish Mardi Gras as a cultural force, creating space for artists, designers, and creators to thrive. 

 Time spent in Morgan’s studio - and later, wearing his elaborate creations - shifted Maberry’s understanding of what art could be. “It proved to me that art doesn’t have to hang on the wall,” she said. 

 “It can be worn and lived in.” Even legendary designers defy tidy categories. “Are they art? Costumes? Fashion?” she asked. “The answer is yes.” 

 In many ways, Maberry’s work continues that lineage. While Mitchell rebuilt the stage - the historic buildings, the parades, the traditions - artists like Maberry now fill it. Her headdresses don’t simply reference history; they invite participation, turning pageantry into lived experience and celebration into shared memory. 

 Galveston’s festival culture makes that philosophy not just achievable, but practical. Costumes aren’t novelties here; they’re part of the island’s infrastructure. 

 “Most people I know have some form of a costume closet,” she said. “They’re always prepared - much like hurricane readiness, I suppose.” 

 After her first year creating headdresses, Maberry realized the momentum didn’t end with Mardi Gras. Derby events, themed galas, Halloween parades - there’s always another reason to dress up, another story waiting to be told. 

 What surprised her most was how often people came seeking something deeply personal. Clients began commissioning pieces to mark birthdays, anniversaries, and meaningful milestones. Her workshops developed their own following as well. 

 “There’s something really rewarding about proving to yourself that you’re creative,” she said. 

 Many attendees return again and again, drawn as much to the experience as to the finished piece. Maberry has also noticed a broader shift. 

 “People are ready to turn away from being online,” she said. “They’re seeking in-person events.” 

 For clients who arrive saying, “Everything in my closet feels basic,” Maberry offers both reassurance and a solution. “The best part of a headdress is it makes you the star,” she said. 

 A single piece can transform a little black dress, an outfit saved for years, or even a pair of jeans into a statement. The upgrade isn’t about excess; it’s about permission - permission to be seen, to take up space, and to enjoy the moment fully. 

 Maberry’s creative process has evolved dramatically over the years. “Everything was hot glue and a dream attached to a headband,” she said. 

 As her work grew, so did her technique. She learned to measure head shapes correctly, sew feathers securely, and refine finishes so each piece is lighter, stronger, and more comfortable. Her favorite promise to new collectors remains simple: “They are dance proof.” 

 

 Every custom piece begins with a consultation, ideally in her studio, where the conversation covers the event, movement, themes, colors, and any concerns. Measurements are taken, ideas are shaped, and the vision begins to take form. Then comes the reveal. 

 “My preference is for them to return for a big reveal with a glass of champagne,” she said. Comfort is never an afterthought. Final fittings allow for adjustments so clients can focus on enjoying themselves. 

 “They can leave assured that their only worries are how long they can tolerate their heels or who will order the Uber.” 

 Even when circumstances make the process tricky, Maberry adapts. She recently created a rhinestone bluebonnet crown for Mrs. Texas using nothing more than a photograph of the outfit. 

 Delivered just before the pageant queen left to compete nationally, the piece “did the state proud,” she said. 

 Her workshops highlight another side of her artistry: teaching. After ten years as a teacher working with teenagers, she’s heard every version of “I’m not creative.” 

 “I’ve had people nearly cry at the end when they see the magic,” she said. Her reassurance is steady and warm. “I can’t release you into the wild with something ugly.” 

 That commitment to craft and individuality stands in quiet opposition to fast fashion. Maberry proudly calls herself a third-generation thrift queen. 

 “There is an embarrassment of riches in my possession,” she said, referring to the vintage textiles, hats, and costume jewelry she sources and repurposes. Giving those materials a second life keeps them out of landfills while adding depth and memory to each piece. 

 “Everyone needs less mainstream trends,” she said, “and a little more lagniappe.” 

 When someone walks into a room wearing one of her designs, Maberry knows exactly what will happen next. 

 “Every head will turn,” she said. “Strangers will talk to you and ask for pictures.” Those images become keepsakes - stories told and retold. 

 Custom headpieces currently start around $300, with prices increasing based on complexity. Turnaround times vary with the season - about a week in summer and several weeks during the busy stretch from October through Mardi Gras. 

 Royalty pieces for krewes are often ordered months in advance, allowing time for detailed design and photography. 

 One of Maberry’s favorite creations is a literal jumbo shrimp named Clary, made for her first solo exhibition. The piece was part of a nostalgic series honoring island landmarks that no longer exist - Clary’s, the Balinese, the Flagship Hotel, Island Bowl - each transformed into a couture-scale memory. 

 Hurricane Headdress is intentionally inclusive. Maberry has created pieces for children’s museum camps and for a 97th-birthday celebration that became the hit of a retirement home. 

 “I can make a headdress or prepare a class for just about anyone,” she said. 

 Leaving teaching was difficult. For two years, Maberry worked during the day and created at night until the stress took a physical toll. “I knew it was time to get out,” she said. 

 The choice meant giving up steady pay and benefits, but support from her husband, children, family, and friends made it possible. “I have found so much joy within myself and life since leaving,” she said. 

 That joy has only grown. Hurricane Headdress has become increasingly visible thanks to strategic investment and guidance from a New York-based business coach who specializes in working with artists. The recognition still feels surreal. 

 “It is so rewarding when people ask if I am wearing a Hurricane Headdress and I get to tell them I am the artist,” she said. 

 Now working out of Kindred Studios at 2221 Market St. #103 in the historic National Hotel Artist Lofts - once Galveston’s 1870 Opera House - Maberry is fully embracing the role of artist as community builder. 

 Maberry’s visibility continues to grow. She was recently named one of six finalists and was awarded a grant through Vision Galveston’s fourth annual PhilanthroVision Galveston, a community driven competition that supports local nonprofits through funding, mentorship, and public engagement. This year’s Art & Culture Edition highlights the power of creativity to shape the island’s future. 

 Her winning proposal, Island Icons, is a portrait series celebrating Galveston residents. Maberry’s concept pairs couture headpieces with personal stories, drawing inspiration from island landmarks and the diverse communities that define Galveston. 

 Many of the featured residents come from groups historically underrepresented in the tourism industry. Each portrait will be photographed at a familiar local site, with the finished works displayed in public spaces during peak tourism season. 

 For Maberry, everything comes back to connection. “I want to know how you met your partner,” she said. “What school your kids went to. Tell me about your pets.” 

 Out of those conversations has grown a creative family - and a not-so-secret society known as the Glitterati. 

 If the future of Hurricane Headdress resembles its past, it will be bold, communal, and just a little mischievous. Spectacle has always belonged on the island, she said, and Maberry intends to keep it stylish. 

 For more details about Hurricane Headdress, artist Megan Maberry, custom commissions, workshop schedules, upcoming events, or to view current collections, visit hurricaneheaddress.com.