What Hunt brought to this long evolution was a practical innovation which is the spring mechanism that locks the sharp end into place, making it safe. Patent number 6,281 ensured that the safety pin, unlike its ancient predecessors, could be used without the risk of injury. It became indispensable in households, used to fasten clothing and to even hold together cloth diapers.
The most unexpected chapter in the story of the safety pin began when it showed its presence in crowded public spaces. What started as a utility evolved into a quiet form of resistance. In the narrow, sweaty confines of public buses, trains, and marketplaces, women found themselves subjected to unwanted touches and safety pin became their subtle line of defence.
In 2016, the safety pin ‘sigil’ also found itself as a symbol of solidarity with migrants and people of colour.
“Safety pin, as we all know, is an inconspicuous tool one carries,” says Sreekala S, now a teacher, reflecting on her college days in the early 1990s.
“We used to travel in private buses where, during rush hours, men and women were stuffed in like sardines. Some uncomfortable advances and male gazes were always there, which we fought against with this simple tool.”
Her story is similar to that of countless other women. It was understood: the pin could sting, and sometimes that was enough. A sharp jab on a groping hand was not just pain, but a message.
Annie Mathews, 27, considers safety pins a quiet constant in her life — something she’s carried since her school days.
“I always had one with me, just in case — if my dress tore, or even for my school bag. But I never saw it as a safety tool until one particular incident. I was on a crowded bus after school. Two of my guy friends stood close to make sure I felt safe, but a man behind me kept brushing against me. I don’t know why, but I reached for the safety pin in my bag — it felt instinctive. One sharp jab, and he stepped back, red-faced.”
As time passed, self-defence tools became more advanced, responding to changing times. Pepper sprays that cause temporary blindness and breathing difficulty, stun guns and tasers that deliver disabling shocks, and keychain alarms that emit deafening sirens, all began replacing the quiet safety pin. Whistles, tactical pens, Kubotan rods, and even rings with hidden spikes entered the market. The streets changed, and so did the weapons women carried.
“I think popular culture played a big role in turning the safety pin into a symbol of women’s resistance. But to me, they also represent a kind of plight as they hold together layers of fabric, limiting freedom of movement. It is also a plight how this object became an act of resistance,” says Aleena, a poet.
