The Secret Language of Patterns

Upon a visit to the Royal Ontario Museum’s Library and Archives, I was completely taken with the fashion plates dating from 1885 to 1886 that were printed in the Revue de la mode. These plates are reminiscent of grand portraits, given their masterfully depicted lines and vibrant colours. Adding to that, although on the surface they may come across as mere fashionable models to be coveted and copied, upon closer inspection, they are signifiers of socio-cultural, economic, and historical issues. In fact, as will be discussed in relation to Figure 1, these images were produced to be consumed by the French social elite—who could afford such elaborate fashions—but more importantly, they were also embedded with global implications relating to trade, textile production and consumption, as well as colonization.

Fig 1. REVUE DE LA MODE Photo Courtesy of ROM Library and Archives RBGT860J68 1885-1886

 

According to the Oxford Dictionary, a fashion plate is a picture, typically in a magazine, illustrating a new or current fashion in clothes. Although that may be true, we certainly know that is not all that they illustrate. In fact, as mentioned above and will be discussed further, these images tell the viewer other important narratives. And of course, given that we are talking about the relationship between fashion, language, and images, there is certainly one name that comes to mind: Roland Barthes. In his highly influential book The Fashion System, ­­Barthes outlines ways in which images found in popular fashion magazines could be read through the use of semiotics (Jobling, 132). As such, for this reading to take place, there needs to be a sign which consists of two components: a signifier and a signified. Subsequently, in order to further engage with this fashion plate and read it using Barthes’ semiotic methods, we are going to engage with another French theorist, Pierre Bourdieu. Considering their sartorial choices as well as their ability to be holidaying on a beach-side, these women must have surely belonged to the upper classes of society which provided them with access to such means as identified by Pierre Bourdieu in “The Forms of Capital”. In fact, depicted in this single image are underlying notions of economic, cultural, as well as social capital.

I must mention that, initially, I thought the text accompanying this image would provide me with more context as to the narrative being alluded to. I mean, there is always a narrative or theme embedded within fashion images, even the highly stylized editorial spreads in glossy fashion magazines of today. That said, given the fact I can’t read or understand French, I asked a colleague if she would kindly translate the passage for me. Well, to my surprise, all it really says is:

Mrs. Dubuc’s Dresses . 19 Grammont Street. Petticoat and corset from the Maison Plument . 33 Vivienne Street. Fabric from the Maison Le Houssel . 1 Aubert Street. ***

Fig. 1.1 Detail

Needless to say, I knew there had to be more to this image than the mere address of where the models of dresses could be obtained! That said, it has been brought to my attention by Dr. Alison Matthews David that, given its ideal location in a very fashionable area right across from Paris Opéra, it is easy to deduce the type of luxurious textiles offered to the Parisian elite by this particular firm. In fact, as shown in figures 2 and 3, this was the only firm in Paris where one could obtain authentic Indian cashmere. The emphasis on the authenticity of the origin of the textiles is telling of popularity of these textiles as well as, the non-authentic and copied version circulating around Europe.

Fig 2. An advertising highlighting that Maison Le Houssel specialized in importing authentic Indian cashmeres for “spring and summer”
Fig 3. Advertising for Maison Le Houssel

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fig 1.2 Detail

In this image, we see two women taking a walk on a beach. There is sand under their feet; children playing and building sand-castles, while their parents and other adults are relaxing nearby. The blue water is visible in the distance as is also a series of domes reminiscent of the Taj Mahal in India (Fig 4). This remarkable Seventeenth-Century mausoleum of white marble was built by the Mughal emperor Shah Jahan in memory of his wife, Mumtaz Mahal.

In fact, although I was initially drawn to this particular fashion plate for the bright floral pattern on a garment worn by one of the figures, it is this architectural detail in the background that propelled me to try and decipher it further. With that in mind, the question that one might ask is: where is this beach? Is it in the east? If yes, then why is everyone dressed in European attire? Given the fascination with Orientalism and the exotic east, it would not have been uncommon for wealthy nineteenth century Europeans to travel and holiday in such locales. With that in mind, at this time there was also a renewed interest in an oriental Indo-Islamic architectural style influenced by those dating from the Mughal empire.

Fig 4. Taj Mahal
E. de Gracia Camara, 2008
Copyright: © E. de Gracia Camara whc.unesco.org/en/documents/109416

In light of this, I would say these women are depicted holidaying in an imaginary destination, however, one that resembles a place much closer to home—and the amazing architecture in the background is reminiscent  of the Royal Pavilion—in Brighton, England (Fig 5). The Royal Pavilion was built by English architect John Nash, between 1815–1823 as a private residence for King George IV. Just as a side note, ironically, the construction of this palace also coincided with the Napoleonic Wars between England and France (Victoriana.com).

 

Fig 5. Royal Pavilion From John Nash’s Views of the Royal Pavilion, Brighton, 1826 Photo Courtesy of www.victoriana.com/Travel/royalpavilion.htm

 

 

Fig 6. Royal Pavilion East Front. Copyright: © The Royal Pavilion, Libraries Museums, Brighton Hove

Continuing on this line, I find the imagery of the oriental influence even more relevant considering the actual materiality of the garments depicted. Here these French women are shown wearing beautifully tailored garments using the finest Indian cashmere in all of Paris. Furthermore, as it was highlighted by the advertisement for the firm, Indian cashmeres were popular textiles during the spring and summer months for those with substantial economic capital. With that in mind, one can’t disregard the importance of Indian textiles on the global fashion system in general and European fashion in particular. In fact, due to the bright floral pattern on the dress depicted, I initially assumed that they were made using Indian cotton. Of course, in this case both of these outfits are made of cashmere. However, not only were Indian cotton textiles quite popular in Europe, they were also considered as one of the most important global consumer commodities and a major player in shaping what is known today as consumerism (Lemire 222).

Fig 7. ‘Toiles de Cotton…Marseille 1736 Indiennes ou Chinées’. A variety of imitation Indian and Ottoman cotton textiles printed in Marseille.
Cotton: The Fabric that Made the Modern World, Giorgio Riello, Fig. 8.8.

Historically, the origin of cotton dates back to 3200 BC, on the banks of the Indus River in India (Riello and Parthasarathi 2). Fast forward to end of the fifteenth century, when finally, Europeans reached Asia through a direct sea route made possible by the opening of the Cape of Good Hope (Riello 89). However, it was in the seventeenth century that numerous European East India companies were formed including, the French East India Company in 1664. The forming of these East India companies meant direct trading relations with the East which resulted in the downpour of Indian cotton textiles into Europe. An important factor contributing to the popularity of cotton textiles in Europe was the ability of Indian producers to customize their prints and patterns according to European tastes. For example: European consumers preferred textiles with light-colored backgrounds (Fig 7) which had “characterized notions of cleanliness and decorum” whereas other markets may have preferred lighter patterns set on dark backgrounds (Riello 100).

Fig 8. Manufacture de tissue d’indienne des frères Wetter : atelier des ouvrières by Joseph Gabriel Maria Rosetti (1764). This is one of four views of the calico-printing factory in Orange showing the large size of the premises and the considerable number of workers employed. Cotton: The Fabric that Made the Modern World, Giorgio Riello, Fig. 8.9.

 

 

 

Of course, even after achieving the basic production of plain white cotton textiles, the process of adding patterns (Fig 8) required an immense amount of trial and error, given the fact Europeans did not possess the same painting and printing skills as their Indian counterparts (Riello 121–123).

Perhaps it is time to try and see if we could read this image (Fig 1) using the theories of Barthes and Bourdieu. This image is a sign of economic, social, and cultural capital. Their impeccable garments from Paris, ability to enjoy and financially afford a summer holiday with others from a similar social standing are all signifiers of their various “forms of capital” as posited by Bourdieu. In addition, woven within the fibers of their luxurious dresses; constructed in the faint outline of an architectural style are historical, political, social, religious, cultural, and economic factors.

 

 

Fig 9. Ginning and bowing of cotton in India, 1851. Cotton: The Fabric that Made the Modern World, Giorgio Riello, Fig. 3.2

Ultimately, these underlying notions of colonial power and societal norms are embodied in the figures of the European travelers’ present, in contrast to the racialized and colonized bodies of the distant and forgotten other (Fig 9). With that in mind, hopefully, by discussing the importance of imported Indian textiles as a global commodity, we have also acknowledged and honoured the Indian producers who through sharing their skills, made a significant impact on cross-cultural exchange of patterns and costumes.

***With special thanks to Dr. Alison Matthews David for her expertise in 19th century fashion and Lauriane Bélair for translating some of the French text into English for me.

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Works Cited

Jobling, Paul. “Roland Barthes: Semiology and the Rhetorical Codes of Fashion.” Rocamora and

    Smelik, pp. 132148.

Lemire, Beverly. “India, Europe, and the Cotton Trade.” Riello and

    Parthasarathi, pp. 17–41.

Parthasarathi, Prasannan. “Cotton Textiles in the Indian Subcontinent, 1200–1800.” Riello and

    Parthasarathi, pp. 17–41.

Peck, Amelia, edited. Interwoven Globe: The Worldwide Textile Trade, 1500–1800. Yale

University Press, 2013.

Riello, Giorgio. Cotton: The Fabric that Made the Modern World. Cambridge University Press,

Riello, Giorgio, and Prasannan Parthasarathi, editors. The Spinning World: A Global History of

    Cotton Textiles, 1200–1850. Oxford University Press, 2009.

Rocamora, Agnès, and Anneke Smelik, editors. Thinking Through Fashion: A Guide to Key

    Theorists, I.B.Tauris, 2016.

Rocamora, Agnès. “Pierre Bourdieu: The Field of Fashion.” Rocamora and Smelik, pp. 233–250.

“Discover the Royal Pavilion.” Victoriana Magazine.            www.victoriana.com/Travel/royalpavilion.htm. Accessed March 31, 2018.

Needlepoint Purses

The term “fashion” could mean a myriad of different things to different people. Some may abide by its rules as if they are divine commandments, while some may condemn it altogether, on grounds of frivolity and wastefulness. That being said, there are some objects belonging to the controversial realm of fashion, that almost all women—and some men—have carried, out of either necessity, choice, or sheer sense of exhibitionism—one such example being the handbag. Consequently, many of us hardly need to think, before reaching for our handbag prior to leaving home. Thus, the bag has gained an omnipresence in the life and wardrobe of women in general, and the modern, independent, and stylish woman in particular. In fact, some women—myself included—could be seen carrying more than one bag on any particular occasion. On a basic level, the handbag has come to hold our most intimate and ordinary items of personal importance deemed necessary for performing our daily duties.

Fig. 4 Watteau, Jean-Antoine. The Scale of Love. 1715–18, Oil on Canvas, The National Gallery, London.

With the passage of time, sartorially conscious men and women have shown particular interest in the fashions of the past. In fact, in the words of Giorgio Riello, “It is almost paradoxical that a phenomenon like fashion, which is continuously defined as ephemeral, leaves behind such a considerable quantity of surviving artefacts” (7). Therefore, it is the materiality of the fashion object that is of central emphasis to this blog, rather than the immaterial and abstract idea of what fashion may be or represent. Accordingly, the object of fashion has served as a subject of interest for self-proclaimed fashionistas, serious collectors or academic scholars.

Author's own
Fig.1 Needlepoint Purse

 

On that note, it should come as no surprise, then, to recount a purchase that I made last fall at the Toronto Vintage Clothing Show. As you may have already guessed by now, yes, it was a bag that I fell in love with (figures 1–3). It is a rather small needlepoint bag, decorated with a pastoral scene reminiscent of eighteenth-century Rococo paintings by Jean-Antoine Watteau, such as The Scale of Love (fig. 4).

 

Fig. 3 Needlepoint purse, interior detail
Fig.2 Needlepoint purse, sideview detail

 

 

 

Interestingly, the earliest predecessors to the needlepoint bag may be the late seventeenth or early eighteenth-century pockets (fig. 5). Though we may associate pockets with modern women’s fashions, they were initially separate articles made of strong materials such as linen or cotton; their strength also reinforced through lining the interior. These pockets which held a lady’s personal items, such as handkerchief and pocketbook, were also beautifully embroidered in silk. Consequently, wide skirts in fashion, allowed for these roomy and deep pockets to be worn on a band at the waist, and safely concealed from public view (Wilson 34). In fact, due to their close proximity to the wearer’s skin, pockets were even considered by some as underwear (Cox 20). In addition to that, pockets were also highly symbolic of gendered binaries; social conventions demanded that, they be concealed when worn by women, as it was unbecoming for a respectable lady to be seen rummaging under her petticoats and into her pockets. In direct contrast to that, the highly visible and prominently positioned pockets on fashions revealed and asserted the male agency and power (Burman 459).

Fig. 5 A pair of linen tie pockets, embroidered in coloured silks in chain stitch. English 1700s. Accessories: Bags, Claire Wilcox, Fig. 23 overleaf, pp. 36–37.

These pockets eventually evolved into what is most similar to our own purses of today, the ‘reticule,’ which held a woman’s personal belongings and was carried in public (fig 6). In fact, the visibility of a woman’s reticule became a source of public scrutiny and led to instances of mockery and ridicule (Cox 20). Thus, it is important to note that, although material, these bags—or any other material item of fashion—were more than mere objects; they were signifiers of the larger socio-cultural, economic and personal practices within a nineteenth century context (Riello 5). Furthermore, the floral motifs and delicate embroideries of these objects were symbolic of nineteenth century gender dynamics. In direct contrast to the sobriety of the husband, was the frivolous beauty and the sweetness of the wife—the domestic diva in charge of flaunting the familial wealth (Cox 27).

Fig. 6 An Ackermann fashion plate from 1820 showing fashionable walking dress, including a reticule (vol. X, 2nd series, plate 4), Accessories: Bags, Claire Wilcox, Fig. 43, pp. 62.

In the highly problematic and misogynistic theories of Thorstein Veblen, “The homely reason for all this conspicuous leisure and attire on the part of the women lies in the fact that they are servants to whom, in the differentiation of economic functions, has been delegated the office of putting in evidence of their master’s ability to pay” (345). All the above considered, one must remain cognizant of the fact that, Veblen was writing for contemporary nineteenth-century society, where such notions—incredibly absurd to the twenty-first century reader—were highly normalized and rather largely accepted. Also, Christopher Breward maintains, the socio-economic significance of a woman’s wardrobe being “specifically concerned with the display of power through a wealth of textiles and the cultivation of physical beauty” dates back to the Medieval period or perhaps even earlier (33).

 

Fig. 7 Black needlepoint purse. 1930s. Catalog Number 1989.04.019 Ryerson Fashion Research Collection

 

 

 

In this next section, let’s closely examine, and compare my own bag, with the ones belonging to the Ryerson Fashion Research Collection (FRC) by doing a material culture analysis using the Slow Approach to Seeing, as developed by Ingrid Mida and Alexandra Kim.

Fig. 8 Needlepoint purse, side view detail

 

 

 

 

 

The first bag from the FRC with catalog number 1989.04.019 is a “black needlepoint purse in floral motif with pink, green and yellow circular pattern. Brass-coloured closure and looped chain handle” (figures 7–10).

Fig 9 Needlepoint purse, top view detail
Fig. 10 Needlepoint purse, interior detail

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My own observation is that there is a hand-made/homemade quality to this purse, as the hand-stitched exterior layer is sewn onto the frame and the interior lining. In fact, I found the irregularity of the frame, as well as the overall floral pattern of the bag to be quite similar to other needlepoint purses c.1910 (figures 11–13).

Fig. 11 Tapestry evening bag with pastoral
Scene, France, c. 1910.
Handbags Calendar by Workman Publishing,
Feb. 1, 2011.
Handbag Courtesy of the Fashion Museum
Fig. 12 Floral petit point handbag with 1,800
Scene, France, c. 1910.
Handbags Calendar by Workman Publishing,
Feb. 1, 2011.
Handbag Courtesy of the Fashion Museum
Fig. 13 Floral needlepoint evening bag with
Brass frame and openwork clasp, Belgium, 1910.
Handbags Calendar by Workman Publishing,
Dec. 21&22, 2013. Handbag Courtesy of the
Sackrider Museum of Handbags

Consequently, the individual features of this purse are also more closely reminiscent of those popular in the first decades of the century, as seen in this fashion plate (fig 14) c. 1911. It is highly important to note, that the popularity and use of purses was due to the narrowing silhouettes of female fashions during the late nineteenth and into the early twentieth centuries.  According to Caroline Cox, women were significantly more engaged in public, which was partially thanks to the emergence of the department store, as well as their opposition to merely spending all their time at home. In fact, these women were interested in having their voices heard as contributing and active members of society and demanded more rights (33).

 

 

Fig. 14 La moda elegante illustrada, 1911.
Plate Caption (translation): La moda elegante illustrada. 30 May 1911. Preciados, 46, Madrid.
No. 20. Fashion Plates: 150 Years of Style, Plate 166, pp. 346–347.

The second bag belonging to the FRC with catalog number 2013.99.052 is a “needlepoint purse with brass closure” (figures 15–18). This purse has a semi-circular metal frame and chain handle, a kissing clasp closure that is decorated with two small clear beads on top.

Fig. 15 Needlepoint purse. 1930s
Catalog Number 2013,99.052
Ryerson Fashion Research Collection
Fig. 16 Needlepoint purse, side view detail

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The surface is decorated with cross-stitched floral motifs and a central motif of a basket of flowers, and the interior of the purse is lined. The colours of this particular purse are much more vibrant compared to the other one belonging to the collection which, may suggest less use or, perhaps a later date.

Fig. 18 Needlepoint purse, interior detail
Fig. 17 Needlepoint purse, top view detail

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I also found that the clasp is quite similar to an embellished purse from c.1920s (figures 19 and 20). Subsequently, this interest in petite point or needlepoint purses was also emphasized in popular women’s periodicals such as this article from The Women’s Wear Daily Archive’s January 23, 1925 issue (fig 22), suggesting “Handbags: Demand Said To Exceed Supply In Hand Embroidered Tapestry Effect Bags…”(25).

Fig. 19 Purse with embellished frame
and chain strap, 1920s.
Handbags Calendar by Workman Publishing
Oct. 8, 2008.
Fig. 20 Clasp detail of Needlepoint purse and chain strap, 1920s.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fig. 22 Handbags: Demand Said To Exceed Supply In Hand Embroidered Tapestry Effect Bags
Women’s Wear; New York Vol. 30, Iss. 19, (Jan 23, 1925): 25.

Now, lastly—and most importantly—let’s examine my own bag. I have chosen to discuss this bag last, for I preferred to examine the earlier purses first, and subsequently, use their qualities to assist me in examining my own. Indeed, the seller was somewhat correct in her estimation of 1950s or 1960s. Along with this, I have found that although needlepoint bags made a comeback in the 1950s, it was not until the 1960s that they gained wider popularity amongst the fashionable (fig 21). Of course, this observation is based on examining existing sources for bags and finding that most needlepoint bags were dated as c.1960s, rather the 1950s. I am also pleased to find that, contrary to the seller’s belief, this bag, is in fact, an authentic needlepoint bag, however, it is definitely larger in size and its decorative pattern would most likely have been machine embroidered rather than done by hand.

Fig. 21 Suede evening bag with petit-point
Embroidered inset, Europe, 1960s.
Handbags Calendar by Workman Publishing
Oct. 25, 2011
Handbags courtesy of the Fashion Museum

In closing, my research took on a life of its own; indeed, I began by trying to find out more about the bag that I had purchased and, ended up also learning more about the ones found in the FRC. Furthermore, I find it quite fascinating that, needlework, being a pastime activity of higher class seventeenth century women who were excluded from public life, would become one of the defining motifs of the twentieth century and their early strides towards the emancipation of women and their sartorial choices.

 

 

 

 

Works Cited
Breward, Christopher. The Culture of Fashion. Manchster, 1995.
Burman, Barbara. “Pocketing the Difference: Gender and Pockets in Nineteenth-CenturyBritain.” Gender & History, vol. 14, no. 3, 2002, pp. 447–469.
Cox, Caroline. Bags: An Illustrated History. Arum, 2007.
Ivo, Sigrid. Bags: a selection from The Museum of Bags and Purses, Amsterdam: Tassen,Bolsos, Sacs. The Pepin Press, 2011.
Johnson, Anna. Handbags: The Power of the Purse. Workman Publishing, 2002.
Kopytoff, Igor. “The cultural biography of things: commoditization as process.” The social life ofthings: Commodities in cultural perspective, edited by Arjun Appadurai, Cambridge, 2017, pp. 64–91.
Mida, Ingrid, and Alexandra Kim. The Dress Detective: A Practical Guide to Object-Based Research in Fashion. London; New York: Bloomsbury Academic, an imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 2015.
Pedersen, Stephanie. Handbags: what every woman should know. David & Charles, 2006.
Riello, Giorgio. “The object of fashion: methodological approaches to the history of fashion.”Journal of Aethtetics & Culture, vol. 3, 2011, pp. 1–9.
Veblen, Thorstein. “Dress as an Expression of the Pecuniary Culture.” Fashion Theory: AReader, edited by Malcolm Barnard, Routledge, 2007, pp. 340–346.
Wilcox, Claire. Accessories: Bags. Thames & Hudson, 2017.
“Handbags: Demand Said To Exceed Supply In Hand Embroidered Tapestry Effect Bags”Women’s Wear Daily Archive, Vol. 30, no.19, Jan. 23, p.25.