Time for some tablet weaving stuff! (In my next life, I will manage to get more time for tablet weaving. And for napping in the sun.)

First of all, a blog post about an Estonian shawl, 13th/14th century, with a tablet-woven border.

Cathy thinks about the Køstrup find, which also has a tablet-woven border. (There's a link to another post with pics in there, should you want to look at brownish textiles.)

And the final tablet-weaving-related bit: Maikki Karisto & Mervi Pasanen have published a book about Finnish tablet-woven bands, called "Applesies and Fox Noses". It's bilingual in Finnish and English, and if I understand correctly, at least a good part of the patterns are taken from original Finnish bands, including medieval ones. The book is available for pre-ordering here, and it's scheduled to come out on June 20.

It has been ages since I have wanted to kickstart my woolmongering - I am in love with old wools, and even more in love with how a hand-made combed top looks and feels (and spins!). The Internet is full of other folks gushing about how a hand-made combed top looks, feels and spins as well. That taken together was the start of my offering handmade combed top.

The two wools I started out with were Rhoensheep and Racka sheep. Recently, I have also acquired two fleeces of Valaisian Blacknose, a white, longer-staple, very shiny wool that looks a bit like silk when spun. I'm offering those three wools as just washed and fluffed up a little, or as combed top. Now, hand-combed top is quite a bit of work, and thus it's more expensive than the industrially-made stuff, but it is something else to spin with really.

The only problem with my glorious plans of selling hard-to-get wools? My stall is quite tiny (as some of you might know), and the area for display is already full with all the other nice little things I have. So at first, I put up samples of the top and samples of single locks of the wool, but of course that is not the best way to sell quantities.Now I have finally gotten around to making a better display - the three wools from old(ish) sheep races, and I have supplemented them with industrially-made carded batt of Tyrolean Bergschaf and that ubiquitous "calibration standard" of the modern spinner, industrially-made Merino top. It's still being worked on (the display, not the top), but I'm positive I'll be able to finish it today. And if I can be really productive, I might even get around to shredding some of the wool that is below par to offer it as stuffing/filling wool... and that would make sack number six.

I'm also planning to offer a mixed bag with some of each wool in there, though I'm not sure yet whether I should add a bit hand-combed top as well, or just the washed wools; and how much would be a good amount. (Your suggestions, as always, are welcome!)

Somehow, these last few months have been more crazy and subjectively much shorter than they should have been. Life is, somehow, crazy - even though there is not that much going on (or at least that's what I tell myself). However, my to-do list is growing faster than I can cut it down to size again, there's workmen in the house this week to fix some windows (consequently making some noise, that's not helping), and I'm sadly behind on my reading. My day needs more hours! (Or my hours need more productivity... but I'm not doing so very badly, my timetracker says.)

Maybe I just need to wash my brain into total complete productivity mode. Speaking of washing: There's a Viennese living history group wishing to tackle exactly that. The "Wienische Hantwërcliute 1350" have a nice (German) article about washing in the late Middle Ages on their blog, and they got a colleague to make them a washing paddle according to medieval sources. Nice!

While you are thinking about clean, white fabric now (at least I am, sort of), Teffania thinks about white dresses that are not white dresses on her blog. White garments like these are definitely candidates for a good wash if you wear them on events with rain!

If you read French and are looking for medieval embroidery examples, this forthcoming book might be of interest to you:

Sur, Francois. La chape de Saint-Louis-d'Anjou :
Trésor textile du XIIIe siècle de l'opus
anglicanum. Basilique Sainte-Marie-Madeleine,
Saint-Maximin-la-Sainte-Baume. Paris: Horizon,
avec l'Association des Amis de la basilique
Sainte-Marie-Madeleine de
Saint-Maximin-la-Sainte-Baume, 2013. 28cm., pbk.,
112pp., 110 illus., most in color. ISBN: 9782757206898
Available June 2013 Shamansky

Summary: Investie du poids de l’histoire et de la renommée d’un personnage à la destinée hors du commun, la chape de saint Louis d’Anjou reçut l’onction d’un classement au titre des monuments historiques le 31 mai 1897. Ce tissu brodé aura eu les honneurs de cinq expositions de renom, entre 1867 à Paris, lors de l’Exposition Universelle, et 2012 quand il se confronta au parement d’autel des Cordeliers de Toulouse, antependium de semblable facture. Ménageant son aura de relique, elle a certes cessé d’être honorée en tant que telle, mais, par le truchement d’une vénérabilité de plus de sept siècles, elle y a graduellement surajouté la dimension de trésor d’histoire et d’art. Tout est paradoxe dans la vie de Louis d’Anjou. Fils de Charles II, comte de Provence et roi de Sicile, il a passé toute son adolescence en captivité. Dans les forteresses du roi d’Aragon. Il est étroitement surveillé par des gardiens sans grande humanité. Ayant recouvré la liberté à 21 ans, il entreprend aussitôt de répondre à sa vocation religieuse. A Montpellier, quelques jours après sa libération, il veut prendre l’habit des Frères Mineurs. Ce choix répond à son idéal. Comme les disciples de saint François, Louis entend vivre dans la pauvreté la plus complète. Il ne s’agit pas seulement de ne rien posséder, mais encore de vivre en mendiant et de parvenir à un détachement du monde qui fasse accéder aux plus hautes vertus, en allant de l’humilité à la plus fervente charité. Avec une ténacité étonnante pour son âge, il persiste et finit par obtenir du pape Boniface VIII une prise d’habit secrète. Quelques jours après, le 30 décembre 1296, il est sacré évêque de Toulouse par le pape lui-même. Ce compromis lui permet de prendre l’habit publiquement au début du mois de février suivant. Il est prince aux fleurs de lys, il est évêque, il est franciscain. Il vit cet incroyable paradoxe avec lucidité. Cette réponse permet d’expliquer comment un franciscain épris de pauvreté peut avoir dans son trousseau une chape qui est un trésor. Ce somptueux vêtement épiscopal, il ne l’a pas commandé lui-même, car il faut plusieurs années pour le réaliser. Or, Louis d’Anjou est décédé le 19 août 1297, moins de huit mois après sa consécration épiscopale. C’est un cadeau, don de ses parents ou de Boniface VIII. S’il l’a portée, c’est en public pour faire honneur au culte. Dessous, il avait gardé l’habit qu’il tenait de saint François. L’oeuvre d’art est restée, témoignant d’une sainteté qui va au- delà des apparences. L’apparition en Europe des premières chapes brodées de ce type fut une révélation. Les vêtements liturgiques ornés de broderies anglaises étaient réellement les plus beaux cadeaux que l’Angleterre pouvait offrir à un prélat : ils captaient la lumière et spiritualisaient les gestes de l’orateur. Les motifs de la chape font écho à la liturgie médiévale qui vénère la Vierge Marie. Les scènes bibliques ne sont pas seulement décoratives mais aussi destinées à créer une enveloppe spirituelle. Broder est un art qui consiste à réaliser à l’aiguille un motif ou une décoration sur une étoffe préalablement tissée. Sur son textile opaque, le brodeur traduit l’impression de lumière et d’éblouissement. Les broderies de l’opus anglicanum sont caractérisées par une ornementation rehaussée de perles, pierres précieuses ou semi-précieuses.

(h/t to MEDTC Discuss list, where info including summary were posted.)

A good week ago, I received a comment/question on one of my netting posts regarding pictures of netting and the persons doing said technique (thanks Christina!).

As to who did netting - that is rather hard to answer. There is a bunch of netting finds from Sint-Truiden which might indicate it was done in a convent, but as usually, nothing is certain. There are not so many well-documented pictures of people doing netting either - which probably is partly due to it not actually being depicted, and partly to depictions being misinterpreted as another technique. I think I have seen netting labeled as "knitting" at least once.

That said, there are the usual sources to find pictures of netting ladies (it's mostly ladies, as far as I have seen yet). One good resource to turn to for a start, as always, is Larsdatter.

And then searching diverse picture and museum databases might yield things like this 15th century woman netting, actual nets like this one from Sint-Truiden, or pictures of nets used for fishing (very frequent due to the biblical stories around this) and hunting (like this one).

As usual, it is not too easy to find good pictures of someone doing the actual textile craft, and search terms "net" or "netting" will turn up lots of unhelpful pics as well. It may be worth a try to also look for "knitting" or "making garment" as well - there is a story about Jesus' tunic being seamless, and I know of at least one picture from the late Middle Ages where this garment is clearly made by netting.

I woke up today to a wintry-looking world again - it has snowed more than 12 cm by now, snow is still falling, and everything is covered in a soft, fluffy layer of white. The cat has ventured out anyway, and she will probably be quite wet when she comes back. But that's not what you are here for, right? You are here for... juicy links. Here you go.

Coming up in the V&A in March is a new exhibition called "Treasures of the Royal Courts", showing among other things treasures from the court of Henry VIII.

And in case you prefer reading about stuff right now instead of looking at it some time in March: I have recently re-discovered a link to the Electronic Theses Online Service the British Library offers. You can search the EThOS database for authors, keywords, the usual; and quite a few of the theses are downloadable for free.

Finally a little bit of curiosity: have any of you experience with spinning on a spindle held (and turned) in the hand? If so, what do you like about that technique - are there advantages to turning in hand compared to a suspended spindle?

It's monday again. I got up way too early (well, in comparison to my usual time). I have a crazy-long list of things to do (yes, still). The cat is sleeping on a chair across the room, and I am getting jealous of her.

But on the other hand... there's progress on several different things on that list, and there are quite a few exciting prospects for stuff that will hopefully all happen later on this year. So. Now? Motivational coffee. And then? Bouts of frenzy actionism.

For you, in the meantime, from my long-overdue link list overhaul, a link to the Historical Needlework Resources Website. Have fun.