Fashionable blonde lace in 1831

 

This fashion plate comes from an 1831 edition of The Ladies Pocket Magazine and depicts an evening dress made of ‘Indian green crape over gros de Naples’. The low neckline is formed of deep folds, which are crossed at the front, and trimmed with blonde lace in the mantilla style.

This image gives a better idea of the full ensemble and shows that the beret style sleeves are also decorated with blonde lace and the skirt features a trim of blonde lace above a line of satin rouleau. I’m intrigued by this trim which has the scallops of the lace pointing upwards, which would make them stand up from the background material to accentuate them but might result in them flopping over which would surely spoil the effect of a continuous line.

Blonde lace was very fashionable from about 1805 to 1835 and this image shows a detail of a typical example. Blond is a handmade bobbin lace composed of a large area of fine net ground with the main design worked along the edge in thick lustrous silk, which was usually a blonde creamy colour but could also be made in black thread. The background net or ground is made of lille net, which is also used for many other fine laces, and is made by one cross and three twists of the thread for each unit of the net. The floral motifs are worked in whole and half stitch and outlined with a thicker gimp thread. The finest blonde lace was made in France and Belgium, particularly in the area around Caen. The nineteenth century lace historian Mrs Palliser says that the white lace was made in the open air in the summer to preserve the purity of the white thread and the black variety was made inside in the winter. However, in the winter no lace was made near the smoke from the fireplace and instead the lacemakers worked in the lofts over their cow sheds so that the warmth of the animals kept them warm. At least, according to Palliser, the lacemakers earned more for making blonde lace than for other types of lace but it still seems a hard way to earn a living. And if you’re wondering what the elegant young lady in green is wearing around her neck it isn’t lace or fabric but an ermine boa.

Lace curtains and valances

 

I’ve been doing more research into lace curtains and this week have been looking at valances. A valance is a short piece of fabric that hangs down above the top of a window curtain or from a canopy above a bed or from a shelf. Curtain valances became popular when pull-up curtains were introduced at the end of the 17th century to hide the pulleys and cords required to do the pulling up. Pelmets could also be used to hide the curtain tracks, but they were generally fairly rigid and were made of fabric, wood or metal. Lambrequins were also used for the same purpose and were also made of fabric. It seems to me that in general: pelmets were rigid and fixed to the wall; lambrequins were similar to valances but firmer and often had long extended sides and were shaped with scalloped edges and trimmed with fringes; while valances were softer and often made of draped or gathered material. However, as with all fashions, there was a lot of mixing and matching and none of the definitions are rigid. For example the image at the top of this post showing an 1895 curtain design includes a pelmet below a curtain rod, drapery and a valance, as well as three sets of curtain panels, in lace, silk and velvet.

This image shows a slightly earlier style from 1878 with a lambrequin covered in lace-like material and fringing over three pairs of curtains. These are made up of an inner pair of lace curtains reaching the sill of the window, a fine fabric or net curtain drawn to one side and a pair of heavier curtains tied back with tasselled cords.

This image from 1928 shows a simpler style but one that incorporates more lace. It comes from a catalogue produced by the Scranton lace company showing how different rooms in the home could be furnished using their products. This one is described as an ‘early American bedroom’ and shows the room decorated with lace curtains at the window, a lace tester and valance above the bed and a bedspread with a valance reaching down to the floor. It is interesting to note that by this time the term ‘valance’ also described fabric that hung down from the bed to screen the space underneath it, which shows how the definitions of these terms subtly change over time.

Filet lace cupids for Valentine’s day

 

I thought some lace depicting cupids would be appropriate for this time of year with St Valentine’s day falling on 14 February. This piece of lace is one of a pair of narrow curtains made in filet lace. It is not antique, but is handmade and was probably produced in the Far East some time in the last 50 years.

It includes flowers as well as six cupids, some lying down and others playing musical instruments or catching butterflies. The design is quite simple and open, which works well for curtains that are designed to let in the light but screen the interior of the house from the gaze of passers by.

The lace is made in several stages and is more complicated than it appears. This close-up image shows the knots of the netting and the thread patterns of the linen stitch. The first stage is to make the background net, which is done with a knotting technique, in a process similar to that for making fishermen’s nets. The open squares of the net have to be the same size to produce neat designs and this is ensured by using a guide bar over which the loops of the net are formed.

Once the net is made, it is held taut in a frame, and the toile or linen stitches that form the pattern are worked into it. Each patterned square of net includes two vertical and two horizontal threads woven over each other and the outer threads of the square mesh.

However, rows and blocks of stitches are worked together with a continuous thread so the thread paths have to be determined before the work starts and can be quite complicated as you can see from this simple circular shape. The linen stitch diagram and this photograph of work in progress both come from Pauline Knight’s book The technique of filet lace, first published in 1980, which gives instructions for netting and stitching and includes much historical information from Pauline’s extensive research. If you are interested in finding out more about filet lace this book is an excellent place to start. Happy Valentines day!

Figures in early lace

 

Many early laces from the 16th and 17th century depict people. Some are mythical creatures like gods, goddesses and putti and others are people in contemporary dress. They were made in a variety of types of lace and patterns were available in books such as Le Pompe, published in 1559 for bobbin lace, and Federico Vinciolo’s 1587 pattern book for needle and filet lace. The image above comes from a 1617 pattern book published by Cesare Vecellio and depicts the four seasons and some dancing figures. The seasons are shown in classical dress while the dancers wear contemporary clothes. The pattern is designed to be worked in needlelace.

These lovely corner designs are printed in the same pattern book and again are patterns for needlelace. The books would not have included any instructions for working the patterns, as it was assumed the ladies who brought them had the required knowledge to work them from these illustrations.

This angel is worked in needlelace and is a detail from an illustration in Elisa Ricci’s book on Italian lace designs. It was made in the 17th century and is made to appear more three-dimensional than the previous images with the incorporation of thicker threads around parts of the lace, such as the halo and the feathers in the angel’s wings.

Another illustration from the same book is this detail of a tablecloth made up of alternating squares of embroidery and lacis work. Lacis was popular in the 16th century and many books included patterns for this type of lace which is basically darning on fine net. The net was made first ensuring that the squares were all the same size by using a gauge. It was then held taut in a frame while the design was worked by passing a needle and thread through the holes in the net, to darn some solid areas and make more open looped patterns in others.

Figures could also be made in bobbin lace as you can see in this lace made from a pattern in Le Pompe. It is a complicated pattern and requires threads to be added and removed as it is worked. The original pattern would not have included any working instructions but Santina Levey and Patricia Payne in their book about the Le Pompe patterns included instructions for making the laces. Forty pairs of bobbins were used to make the lace and two different threads were used, a fine one for the figures and a thicker one for the plaits. If you are interested in early laces this book is very helpful because it describes the way early laces were made and also explains how to make lace prickings from the original woodcut patterns.

Inspiration from the gothic tale of Paul Ferroll

 

Much of my practice is inspired by gothic novels and in particular the way many of them critique the position of women in society. I tend to combine gothic tropes such as veiling and nets with lace to suggest some of these ideas. The image above shows a net curtain inspired by a little-known gothic novel entitled Paul Ferroll by Caroline Clive. The eponymous ‘hero’ of this novel murders his wife at the beginning of the story and evades justice at the end. My net curtain presents the voice of the murdered wife as she speaks from beyond the grave to give her side of the story. The idea being that the net has sieved her words out of the ether in the home where she remains a ghostly presence.

I am not the only one to find this story troubling. It seems a strange subject for a nineteenth century novel aimed at a mainly female readership. Many readers complained to the author about the outcome of the story, so when the book was republished she added an extra final  chapter in which Paul Ferroll, having escaped from prison and fled to America with the help of his daughter, caught a fever and died. The implication being that he was punished by natural justice rather than the hangman’s noose. Many readers weren’t satisfied with that explanation either, so Caroline Clive wrote a prequel to the story with the unsurprising title: Why Paul Ferroll killed his wife. This story explains how he met both his first and  second wife and how the former tricked him into marriage – so what else could he do but murder her! I still don’t find this a valid explanation for murder but wisely Caroline Clive gave up trying to persuade her readers that Paul Ferroll was a real hero and published no more stories about him. Although you have to admire her for cleverly building up indignation against him and selling two books about the same subject!

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.