The Dark Legacy Behind the Trucker Hat That Took Over Hollywood
It’s 2003. Ashton Kutcher’s spiked hair is poking out from under a Von Dutch trucker hat. Paris Hilton is flipping hers backward on The Simple Life. Britney Spears has one for every mood. For a flashbulb-bright moment, the Von Dutch hat isn’t just an accessory—it’s an It-Girl rite of passage and an unofficial Hollywood club pass. Even Justin Timberlake, post-N*SYNC and pre-woodsy-cabin-era, can’t escape its mesh-and-velcro grasp.
But what most people don’t know is that the rise (and spectacular fall) of Von Dutch isn’t just about a logo. It’s about murder, neo-Nazi links, wild infighting, and how a weird little slice of Americana became a symbol of both pop culture excess and its dark, rotting underbelly.
The Hat That Ate Hollywood
Let’s back up: “Von Dutch” started as the nickname of Kenneth Howard, a ‘50s-era pinstriper and custom motorcycle painter—a true icon in the SoCal hot rod scene. He was talented. He was eccentric. He was also, in the words of those who knew him, a raging racist, misogynist, and all-around problematic guy. His art was legendary; his personality, less so.
Fast forward to the late ‘90s: enter Ed Boswell, a self-styled “art dealer,” who got the rights to the Von Dutch name and started slapping it on hats and tees. When LA fashion entrepreneurs Bobby Vaughn and Michael Cassel bought in, things started spinning fast. They weren’t aiming for the runway—they wanted the streets, the clubs, and, if possible, Britney Spears’s head.

Mission accomplished. Early 2000s paparazzi shots look like Von Dutch catalogues. Lindsay Lohan wears the hat to rehab. Jay-Z gives it a nod. There are lines around the block at their Melrose store, with $40 hats being flipped on eBay for hundreds. The hats become so famous they’re infamous: Kid Rock wears them unironically; The Simple Life is practically sponsored by them. For a while, if you didn’t own Von Dutch, were you even famous?
The Seeds of Scandal
Here’s where things start to unravel like a poorly stitched trucker mesh: The public-facing Von Dutch empire was built on the name of a man whose actual writings (which surfaced after his death) were riddled with racism and anti-Semitism. Not exactly the vibe Paris Hilton was trying to serve.
Then came the business side. The three-headed beast at the helm—Boswell, Vaughn, and Cassel—couldn’t keep their story straight or their hands out of trouble. Vaughn, a surfer with a criminal record, would eventually be acquitted of murder, but not before the tabloids had a field day with his Von Dutch connection. Cassel, on the other hand, survived a drive-by shooting, adding another wild chapter to a brand biography that was looking more like a Tarantino screenplay.
Boswell, the original license-holder, was muscled out. Lawsuits flew. Accusations bounced from fraud to backstabbing to “did you steal my dad’s trademark?” In the midst of all this, Kenneth Howard’s own daughters went public with how much their father would have hated his work becoming a celebrity status symbol for exactly the kind of people he despised.
The Implosion: Fame, Fraud, and Fashion Karma
By 2004, the trucker hat trend was starting to rot from the inside. Fashion moved on; the mass-market deluge made Von Dutch uncool overnight. Suddenly, wearing Von Dutch wasn’t a sign you were in the know—it was proof you were tragically late. As quickly as it had exploded, the brand became a punchline.
But the scandals kept coming. In 2008, Cassel was convicted of embezzlement and sentenced to prison. Vaughn, after being cleared of murder charges, attempted a comeback as a restaurateur. The brand itself sputtered, surviving on the fumes of Y2K nostalgia and bargain bin clearance racks. The Von Dutch name was later acquired by a French company, who tried to revive it with nostalgia bait. But the trucker hat—so once-iconic, so once-cool—never truly recovered.
And the dark side? It lingered. In 2021, Hulu’s docuseries The Curse of Von Dutch dug up all the dirt, rehashing the neo-Nazi rumors, the boardroom brawls, the murder trials, and just how close the whole empire was to collapse at every turn. The hats might have made their way onto Paris Hilton’s head, but the story behind them was anything but “that’s hot.”
Life After Von Dutch
Here’s how the story ended—or didn’t—for the key names behind the brand, according to what’s public in 2025.
Ed Boswell: The original “art dealer” who first commercialized the Von Dutch name is largely out of the public eye. He lost control of the brand early on after lawsuits with Vaughn and Cassel. There’s not much public record of him being involved in fashion or business anymore—he pops up in documentaries (like The Curse of Von Dutch) and occasionally posts about art, but the Von Dutch money is long gone.
Bobby Vaughn: After his infamous murder trial (where he was acquitted), Vaughn tried various business ventures. He opened a surf shop and a trendy burger restaurant in Los Angeles for a time. He’s given interviews about his turbulent ride with Von Dutch and seems to still be hustling in the entrepreneurial scene, but nothing close to the wild heights of his early 2000s fame.
Michael Cassel: Cassel ended up in legal trouble (embezzlement conviction) and did prison time. He is out now and has reportedly kept a very low profile. No splashy comeback; he appears to be steering clear of both fashion and headlines.
Kenneth Howard (Von Dutch): The man behind the myth died in 1992 from liver failure due to alcoholism, years before the hats took over pop culture. His legacy remains complicated—his skill as an artist and influence in the hot rod scene are still recognized, but his bigotry and controversial personal writings have kept his name from being fully celebrated.