I am woven from straw or tailored from felt, I sit far above where you fasten your belt. I can tip in greeting to show you respect, Or shade your eyes from the sun direct. When a magician pulls a rabbit out, I'm the home it was hiding about.

I’m a giant in disguise, floating cold in the sea, yet you’ll only see a fraction of me.

You can decorate your home with it. You can make it yourself, but sometimes pay millions for it. A lot of them became popular only after the person that made them passed away.

When a pince-nez cuts out the middleman

In a drawer, I quietly reside, bending and twisting, I keep things tied. A gentle hug for scattered sheets, a humble servant doing tidy feats.