The ambiguity of veiling

 

One of the reasons I am so interested in veiling is because of its ambiguity. It can conceal or reveal, it can hide or highlight, it is worn by nuns as well as exotic dancers, it is associated with both marriage and mourning. I have used this ambiguity in my practice by using veils as a means of exploring feminism and the place of women in society. Veiling is also associated with gothic novels - just think of Wilkie Collins’ story The woman in white. Many of these nineteenth century novels were also written to critique the position of women and highlight their lack of legal rights. As those writers knew, it is often easier to get across your point of view if you engage the reader by telling them a story rather than laying out a series of dry facts. Consequently, I have made bridal veils linked to actual gothic heroines such as Tess of the Durbevilles (there’s more about this veil in my 7 January post) and Miss Havisham, but have also used gothic tropes to make lace veils incorporating the words No, no, no or Help me. The main image also includes a veil reflecting on the life of Charlotte Bronte and I have also used Jane Austen’s life as inspiration for another one.

All of those pieces were wedding veils, but I have also made black mourning veils to reflect the darker aspects of gothic tales. One of these is ‘Belladonna’, which you can see in the image above. The design of the lace trim on this veil was inspired by the leaves and berries of the deadly nightshade plant (Atropa belladonna to give it its Latin name). The gold thread running through it suggests that the widow may not be surprised or devastated by her husband’s demise. I’m always intrigued when I exhibit these veils that prospective brides ask if they are for sale and I wonder if they have actually read the labels!

Broken lace bobbins

Lace bobbins are prone to wear and tear because they are used so often and sometimes they break, especially at the top. The head of the bobbin is the thinnest part and also receives the most tension, as this is where the thread is wound round and looped to keep it in place. A common breakage occurs at the very top of the head, like the bobbin on the right in the image here. The bobbin can still be used as the thread can be looped just below the bulb but the bobbin won’t hang quite straight and there is more wear on the thread. Also the break may leave a rough edge on which the thread can catch and it is interesting that the top of this bobbin has been covered with a dot of sealing wax to smooth it off so the lacemaker can continue to use it.

The second bobbin on the right here has also lost its head and the lacemaker has decided not to repair it but to repurpose it. She has removed the head completely and ground the remaining neck down into a point and removed the spangle of beads from the tail of the bobbin. In its new form as a stiletto. It can now be used for broderie anglaise lacework. To do this it would be pushed through fabric to make a hole which the lacemaker would then sew round in blanket stitch, similar to the embroidery in the image above although that is not handmade and has been worked with a machine. It is impossible to know how the wooden bobbin was broken, but I think it originally had channels of lead or pewter as decorations and these either fell out completely or were beginning to fall out, making the surface rough and difficult to work with. More metal has been used to cover the surface and make the bobbin smooth again.

The bobbin on the far left has been very skilfully repaired. The neck must have broken and the top of a wooden bobbin has been cut to splice the two together to make it useable again. Pinned in place with a metal rivet this bobbin feels just a secure as the day it was first made. I have seen other bobbins repaired in this way so I think this was done professionally and was probably a service that bobbin makers offered their customers. What I like most about these repaired bobbins is the fact that they were so well loved that even when they broke their owners still wanted to use them and so repaired or repurposed them.

Wedding veils – happy ever after?

 

These wedding veils bring a gothic eye to traditional fairy tales and question the idea of marriage being the ultimate dream for fictional heroines. The image above shows the No, no, no veil, on the left, designed for the reluctant bride, and a veil celebrating Thomas Hardy’s heroine Tess of the Durbevilles on the right. The ‘No, no, no veil’ was inspired by the idea of a reluctant bride, who is forced into an unwanted marriage, using her bobbins and thread, the only means of discourse she possesses, to reveal her inner thoughts and appeal for help. The veil on the right references the episode in Tess of the Durbeville’s story where she writes a note to Angel Clare on the night before they marry, telling him about her past, in case that knowledge would cause him to change his mind. It is only once they are married that she realises he did not find the note and when she confesses her chequered past he rejects her. The disintegrating paper represents the hidden note and the fragility of the marriage. The veil is entitled ‘Paper trail’ reflecting the path the story follows after the confusion over this slip of paper, which eventually leads to Tess’s trial and sad end.

This veil with its sparkling fringe reflects the allure of marriage for the gothic heroine. From a distance this sparkling fringe appears to be made of soft, smooth thread but closer inspection reveals that it is composed of rows of hard, sharp pins. Its title ‘Pinned down’ suggests the sharp reality of conjugal bliss and domesticity. These veils are part of a series based on research into Victorian gothic novels and domesticity and their relevance to contemporary life.

Stitched QR codes and what they can reveal

 This embroidered QR code links through to my website when you read it with a smartphone. However I first became interested in using QR codes as a way of hiding information in plain sight in a decorative way. The idea being that the message could easily be overlooked in the same way as domestic textiles and their makers often are. I sometimes hide text within lace patterns but QR codes can contain much more information in a smaller space. QR codes do have to be quite exact though for the camera on a smart phone to recognise them. My first attempts were made in black bobbin lace but they were not reliable enough to work every time. I tried working the codes at an angle so the squares were cloth stitch diamonds and alternatively with the squares as tallies, but neither worked very well. I also experimented with crochet squares but they became too large for the backgrounds I wanted. I then tried cross stitch embroidery straight onto my background net but that wasn’t reliable either. Eventually I found that cross stitch embroidery on counted thread fabric was the most effective way of producing the QR codes.

This curtain Insider information contains many coded messages that together form a narrative about the domestic environment. The words ‘Help me’ are stitched in human hair on to the curtain, which also includes an embroidered QR code. The code can be read to reveal the words ‘Escape while you can’ while the human hair contains the DNA of the seamstress. Combined with the veil of the curtain they seem a cry for help and a warning to others. Both types of embroidery reference Victorian domestic needlework, such as samplers and mourning brooches, and hint at a gothic tale of confinement and control.

Lace curtain designs by Marcel Tuquet

 

These lovely curtain designs were made by Marcel Tuquet, a lace curtain designer working at the end of the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth century. He was a prolific designer and most of his designs include floral images, but whether this was his preference or he was responding to the fashions of the time I don’t know.

These images all come from a folio of his designs, which was published in about 1900 by Christian Stoll of Plauen. Rather than being catalogues for retailers or householders who were planning to purchase curtains these folios were aimed at designers in the European textile industry to inspire them and give an idea of current trends. Doodles and small drawings on the reverse of some pages suggest that they were used by designers for this purpose.

Lace curtains at this time were generally quite large and floral designs were very popular. In fact a large part of the training for designers included drawing flowers and plants either from real life or from other designs.

These designs were not meant to be copied exactly but mainly to provide inspiration and you can see how a designer might take an element from the border of one design for example and use it with the style of flowers in another, incorporating the trellis bars from a different design. The images shown here were all printed in the folio as they are shown here, with the border along the left hand side, but you can see how some of them could easily be rotated by ninety degrees and used as smaller curtains or even as the lower border of larger ones.

For most lace curtains we have no idea who the designer was or when they were produced so to have these folios of designs by a named designer is unusual and very special. It also shows us just a glimpse of the astonishing number of different designs an individual designer could produce and introduces us to the amazing skill of Marcel Tuquet.

Lace in fashions from 1873

 

These illustrations depict the latest fashions from an 1873 issue of The Englishwoman’s Domestic Magazine. This magazine was one of the most popular fashion magazines of the time. It had been founded by the entrepreneurial publisher Samuel Beeton in 1852 and was aimed at the middle class market (his wife Isabella’s famous book Mrs Beeton’s Book of Household Management was also hugely popular). By 1873, hooped crinoline underskirts were no longer fashionable and instead wide skirts were worn flat at the front and looped up at the sides and back to form a bustle, often with a pad of horsehair tied round the waist to pad out the fuller shape at the back. Swags, folds and pleats of fabric were swathed over the skirt and train. As you can see, the layers were trimmed with lace, ruched ribbons and embroidery. Some gowns were also trimmed with flounces of taffeta printed with lace-like designs, the edges of which were often scalloped or pinked to give the appearance of lace, although I think these illustrations depict machine-made lace frills.

This image, from the same issue of the journal, shows some fashionable accessories of the time. Hair was dressed high on the head and trimmed with small hats, ribbons, lace and artificial flowers. The small lace jacket also shows how lace fabric was cleverly cut to make use of its scalloped edging and accentuate the openings of the bodice and sleeves. Doctors were quick to condemn all these fashions as dangerous to health. Mainly because of the corseting required to achieve a tiny waist, but also because the bunched up skirts, high heels, and elaborate headwear tended to pitch the body forwards in a bent shape making walking difficult. Fashion has always been about appearance though not health or practicality!

 

Duchesse lace

In about 1850, Belgian lacemakers began making lace without an integral net ground; at the time it was called guipure lace. This type of lace was already being made elsewhere, for example in Honiton in England, and consisted of sprigs of bobbin lace joined together by fine lace bars. It’s greatest advantage was that numerous workers could be employed on the lace at the same time. Some made the sprigs, or motifs, and others assembled and joined them together, meaning that bigger items of lace could be made much more quickly compared with what one lacemaker working alone could achieve.

The finest type of Belgian lace in this style soon became known as ‘point Duchesse’ in honour of Marie-Henriette, the Duchess of Brabant. Marie-Henriette is an interesting woman, she had had a happy childhood in Austria, and was an excellent horse rider and musician. However, her marriage to Leopold the Duke of Brabant was very unhappy. They were incompatible and married against both their wishes when she was 16 and he was 18. They became king and queen of Belgium in 1865 and had three daughters and a son who died when he was 10. When Marie-Henriette died in 1901 they were living apart and Leopold came to her funeral with his mistress.

Those of you with keen eyes will have noticed that the lace in these images is not solely bobbin lace, like Honiton lace, but also incorporates some needle lace. According to Santina Levey’s book Lace: a history there were two main types of point Duchesse: Duchesse de Bruxelles and Duchesse de Bruges. The first type was made with fine bobbin lace flowers incorporating raised work, which is the raised outlining around the edge of the petals. It was also embellished with needle lace in the ‘point de gaze’ style, which is a very fine needle lace incorporating raised work, picots and small circular couronnes. Duchesse de Bruges was a coarser style and never included needle lace, therefore we can assume that this lace is the Duchesse de Bruxelles type. Levey also notes that Duchesse de Bruxelles lace was never a dominant fashion lace but was widely worn, mainly in small items such as cuffs and collars, like the one in the images.