One year later, these Women’s March symbols have found new purpose as stuffed toys and talismans (when they’re not being worn, that is).

One year ago, people at Women’s Marches across the country and around the world donned pink headgear to protest an administration headed by a man who, by his own account, thought he had a right to grab anything he wanted. We asked readers what they’ve done with their pussy hats since.

Nicole Cesare of Philadelphia stashes hers in a “go bag” along with pens, a notebook and snacks in case she needs to rush to a protest. Whitney Logan of Fairway, Kan., puts hers on when she makes phone calls to her senators and representatives: “It gives me courage,” she said. Emily Kilbourn, in Bethlehem, Connecticut, wears hers when she’s going somewhere she knows she’ll run into conservatives: “Amazing what a smile, wave, and a tip of the pussy hat will do!”

For some readers, they’ve become complicated objects, representative of an unserious sort of activism, unsuited to the times. For others, they’ve become a kind of talisman, to be worn at pivotal moments, good and bad (the Alabama special Senate election in December was a popular occasion for digging them out). And for others, they’re just a hat — special, perhaps, but ultimately a head warmer: “I wear it!” said Maureen Thomas, of Columbus, Ohio. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Several stories and photos from readers are below. Submissions have been edited for length and clarity.

I got my hat and ignored them all

I wear it when I need to get my “lady power” up. I live in a house with my husband, two teenage boys and a 75-year-old mom who just doesn’t get it. My hat reminds me of that powerful trip I took with my sister to Washington, where I met so many amazing women.

And actually, I just wore it on Christmas Eve. I was doing all of the work — juggling cooking, etc., and my stove was acting funky and four male family members decided to mansplain to me about the gas ignition, and what I was doing wrong. I stormed upstairs, got my hat, ignored them all and figured out how to get my stove to work properly to continue cooking my meal for 20-plus people.

My hat is a huge symbol to me, and reminds me daily how as a result of the unexpected election of Donald Trump, so many women harnessed their collective power and are just standing up to so many injustices, big and small. — Laura Patton, South Hempstead, N.Y.

I made it, and I wear it! I wear it on deck at masters’ swim meets to warm my head and intimidate the competition. Unfortunately, the competition loves it and feels empowered, too. — Gretchen Wahl, Chicago

I can’t bear to part with it

It sits in a box under the bed. After a year, its symbolism feels complicated to me now. I’ve listened to the women who have been struggling for a long time with feelings that white women dealt with for the very first time when Donald Trump was elected. I love this hat, but I know that for many women of color, it represents a more shallow level of commitment to our collective work. I don’t see myself wearing it to the anniversary march, and I don’t see myself wearing it again.

Yet I can’t bear to part with it, and I do tend to discard things easily. I think it’s, for now, an important representation of my growth as a feminist, and my commitment to always trying to show up in a more intersectional way. — Meaghan McCaughey, San Diego.

I had to work during the march, but I wore my hat in solidarity! As a bartender in very conservative Rochester Hills, Mich., I was proud to show my support. I’ve since modified it into a stuffed pink pussycat doll for my 2-year-old daughter. — Megan Casey, Pontiac, Mich.

I sneaked out one night and placed my pussy hat on the statue of Katharine Lee Bates (who wrote the words to “America the Beautiful”) that stands on the public library lawn, on the Main Street of my town. I enjoyed watching posts crop up on various social media outlets as locals spotted her hat. It was a gray time of year and her hat really stood out.

I went to take a photo of her myself, during the day, and without giving myself away, was pleased to see others taking her photo and calling out in solidarity. Her hat lasted only a few days and I don’t know who took it down. I placed another hat on a statue of Rachel Carson (scientist and author of the groundbreaking environmental classic “Silent Spring”) in Woods Hole, Mass. Likewise, I enjoyed seeing posts on social media as strangers and friends took her photo or took photos of their children with her in her pink hat.” — Erica M. Szuplat, East Falmouth, Mass.

I wear it when something big breaks about Donald Trump, or if I’m just feeling like I’d like to give him a middle-finger salute (which, frankly, is pretty often). I wore it the Wednesday morning after Doug Jones was elected, for example. It’s been cold here, and the hat is quite warm. Mostly it lives in a drawer with other winter accessories: scarves, gloves, hats. — David Derbes, Chicago

I am reminded of the brave women on whose shoulders we stand and the foundation we’re building for our daughters. — Laura Torchio, Montclair, N.J.

“I would never wear it or use it for anything other than what it was intended for. It’s sacred. The pink pussy hat is a reminder of the power of women and the visual statement of our walking together that day, united. I will be designating what is to happen to my hat in my will. Seriously!” — Dorothy Ferguson, Seattle.

I’m not much of a hat person and know I will not wear it again, so I returned my hat to its maker. However, my daughter made mini-hats for Christmas ornaments that I’ve distributed to friends. We’ve enjoyed using them as toppers for other ornaments or figurines. — Linda Judd, Guerneville, Calif.

I proudly wear my pussy hat as a visible sign of protest against President Trump’s policies. Every time I wear it someone tells me they like my hat — an acknowledgment of solidarity. I plan on wearing mine to the Women’s March this month. (And my pussy hat earrings!) — Cindy Schaffer, New York

It covers our John Wayne bust in our front hallway. I feel ever more depressed and angry when I look at it. Every day I see it and think of my granddaughters, who also marched, and their future in this America, where Donald Trump is truly destroying all we stand for. I like the color though. — Cynthia Amagatto, Boston

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=3865604&forum_id=2#35197517)