Textiles class: introduction
So I'm taking a class on historical textiles with my historical writing association, and the teacher said "write a short bit about yourself, and what you're wearing, and what you write (and what textiles come into your writing)." So, I, um, wrote this short bit. Which is... much longer than others' short bits, but at least shorter than a novel. :)
Oops. This isn't a short bit. I'm sorry! I got all wrapped up.
First, since
I'm in France now and I'm not freezing like I would be in Canada, I'm
wearing (here not-too-expensive and readily available) linen.
I'm writing (among other things, the most interesting
one relevant to this class, I think) a time-travel novel set between
modern-day North America and 5th Century Cornwall -- just after the
Romans left, and before Christianity got established there. Fascinating
period -- much of my research is in my Breton language class in Brittany
where I'm living just now. In the 5th century, Breton and Cornwallish
were the same (or nearly) language and culture. I've also spent time volunteer farming in Cornwall, so I can /feel/ the place where it's set (and taste the cream! yum! unforgettable, Cornish cream teas and Cornish pasties, neither available in that period, of course, but still somehow of that place).
The
English Channel was no barrier, but more like a giant highway, for the
people then. Maybe the triscale symbol that is big in Brittany and
Cornwall and Ireland originally represented those three connected Celtic
places? That's my hypothesis this week. :) (That's an embroidery topic!
Totally related to this class. ahem. Sorry. Offtopic.)
So
I'm mainly working with wool and linen in that manuscript, however,
there is archaeological evidence for silk coming in and linen from
Egypt, too. Tintagel was always a very active port, even before the
Romans hit the scene, because Cornwall is one of the only places you
could get the tin the ancients needed to make bronze for the Bronze Age.
There and...Afghanistan, I think? Were the only big places for it.
Hence, there is some room for me to play with luxury materials. My hero
(who is a healer) bought some bolts of fine Egyptian linen for medical
use just recently, and a nice silk dress that he's given the heroine,
too.
They
have a LOT of wool because his dragon eats a lot of sheep, and so his
village is thriving off the excess leather/wool business. (Sorry.
Dragons have jumped into my last two books. It's not my fault. As you
can see he's industrially handy.) But linen is so nice. Less itchy than
wool. And something I love about linen that I've realized recently is
just how small an area a village needed to supply their linen needs . We
North Americans tend to think in terms of quarter sections and hundreds
of acres, but medieval folks made lots of cloth from a surprisingly
small area to grow the flax!
I'd be interested to know more about the process to make linsey-woolsey too.
As to my experience with fabric, I've toyed with a lot of things just to prove I can, but I tend to be purpose-driven. So when my son was in my tummy and I was working on an Indian reserve, I delighted in the knowledge of the elders around me and built a moss-bag (a native baby-wrapping sort of thing to keep them cosy), quilted jester-pattern orange and yellow on the back, lovely silky royal blue on the sides, soft fleecy clouds and criss-cross laces on the front to tie baby up like a happy burrito.
I'd be interested to know more about the process to make linsey-woolsey too.
As to my experience with fabric, I've toyed with a lot of things just to prove I can, but I tend to be purpose-driven. So when my son was in my tummy and I was working on an Indian reserve, I delighted in the knowledge of the elders around me and built a moss-bag (a native baby-wrapping sort of thing to keep them cosy), quilted jester-pattern orange and yellow on the back, lovely silky royal blue on the sides, soft fleecy clouds and criss-cross laces on the front to tie baby up like a happy burrito.
This
winter we were living in a converted centuries-old French cow byre, so I
designed and made myself a long particouleur dress, with a warm soft
blue hood from a scarf I bought for a Euro, lovely and long enough to
get wet in puddles, from two delicious fleecy blankets that I bought new
for the purpose. Whenever I get the slightest bit chillly I just pop it
on and I'm as warm as toast. It's red and white and blue like France,
but mostly red and white so the locals laughed and called me Mere Noel. I
didn't mind. They got used to it, unlike my teenage son. :)
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