Back to earth is a nice thing, but silk ribbon is very nice as well. And who minds a little luxury, huh?



This is 3.5 mm wide pure silk ribbon, very light and airy. A nice thing if you need shoulder straps for a reconstruction of this garment:


Or a light, fine drawstring. Or a ribbon to bind and decorate your hair. Or whatever else you can think of. The ribbon comes in 5-metre pieces, but should you need more in one piece (or just more), I can wind off (almost) whatever length you desire.

Picture source: Bartz/Karnein/Lange: Liebesfreuden im Mittelalter. München 2001. P. 25.

After yesterday's high aspirations to luxury thread, today it's back down to earth in the Market Stall. I proudly and happily present to you the most basic of tools for the textile trade:

The Abysmally Underestimated and Neglected Spindle Stick!

While spindle-whorls are common archaeological finds, and while there are hundreds of dozens of spindles in all kinds of homes, working or not, the spindles themselves - that is, the sticks - are not something commonly seen for sale on markets. And I asked myself: Why? While there are not so many conserved wooden spindle sticks (I could write just "spindle", but I want to prevent any misunderstandings) around, the situation is still much better than that on textiles. And there are textiles on any medieval event.

I found out soon why they are not commonly for sale. Medieval spindles are usually rather slender with a double-conical form. With as little as two or three millimetres diameter at the ends, and not much more than a centimetre at the thickest place, they are too slim to be turned on just any lathe - the thin stick starts to wobble, making an efficient production difficult or impossible. But spinning with a much thicker double-conical spindle stick, which would pose no problems when turning, will not work as well. And, even more important, that stick won't fit the whorls so smoothly. And you want your spindle to fit your whorls, all of them, so you can just change. For example, have three spindle sticks, spin on one until it's full, spin on the second until it's full, and then ply both singles together on the third stick before removing your ball of plied yarn from that spindle, freeing all three again. And that will work only if you can change your whorl from spindle stick to spindle stick - and preferably, if you have more than one whorl, this would work with any of your stash.

In contrast, most modern spindles are seen differently, with the whorl and the spindle stick firmly belonging together. And most spindle makers just have their own method that will cut out the need for double-conical spindle sticks - often they use a stick that is firmly fixed to the whorl and not conical in shape. So the market for spindle sticks seems to be not so large. And if you want just one single stick, you can always take a knife and whittle it down to fit your whorl(s). If you are like me, that is possible yet not pleasing, because I'm not so good a whittler, and most of my "make a spindle" efforts were not so successful. Whittling down some wood to get a rounded, conical and slender shape is not too easy, I found.

So after searching a while, I finally found a workshop that accepted the challenge. And now they are back: Double-conical spindle sticks, made from beech wood, modeled after a find from Bergen in Norway. They are 11 mm thick at the fattest part, 3 mm at the ends, and 27 cm long. Need I say they are a pleasure to spin with?

There's sort of good news: Finally, I might have found an artisan who is capable and willing to reproduce medieval gold thread for me. Real, no-compromise gold thread, as it was found in the excavations at Villach-Judendorf in Austria: Gilt silver wound around a natural-coloured silk "soul", 0,2 mm thick and used for weaving (brocade) as well as for embroidery. (You can use several threads at once when doing couch work - I have a nice photo somewhere showing just that. After all, medieval people had their lazy streak too!)

"Normal" gilt or gold threads are imitation gold, wound around a core of cellulose or other material, but not around silk. And getting gilt-silver threads (not the japanese version, where a strip of paper is gilded or silvered) is really hard already, even if it's "just" gilt, not pure gold. Those threads are usually much thicker, too.

The downside? There's a hefty minimum order, and gold thread is not cheap. Quite the opposite, actually: Real gold or gilt thread was exquisitely expensive in the Middle Ages and it's still exquisitely expensive today. I'm very, very tempted to order the thread, but it's an investment that should not go too wrong.

So now it's time for me to play my most beloved game of them all (well, not really): "Guess The Market". And this time, I'm shamelessly using this blog to get some input from you, because I've been told time and again that I'm no normal textile stuff customer (though you probably aren't).

Do you feel the strong desire to buy authentic-to-the-soul gold thread? Modeled after a find? Even if it is really thin and really pricey? Would you use it for weaving, for embroidery, or for both? How much need do you have? And how much would you be willing to pay for, say, 10 metres? Or do you prefer to buy the cheaper imitation gold thread?

When some time ago I asked for suggestions for the market stall, Kruliczyca (she has a blog, too, in Polish with English summaries) mentioned bentwood boxes for storage of needlework goods.

I have now come up with some of them - smallish, oval boxes made from fragrant wood. They are small enough to slip into a sewing cabinet or box that is already quite crowded, plain but pleasing the eye so they will look nicely on a table with work in progress, and a good possibility to store a needlebox, small shears, or your favourite sewing threads in them. Or hide some unauthentic thread rolls or other needlework trinkets that are not for everybody to see.


I quite like them and will probably use a few of these boxes for displaying wares. At the moment, they make an impressive stack in my warehousing cupboard!

Though I hadn't posted about it anymore, I have obviously continued working on the blue hairnet, since it's finished now. I have sewn it to a drawstring made from birch-leaf-dyed silk (a thin silk ribbon), using one of the handmade steel needles (which worked like a dream).
Here it is, already brought into shape on a styrofoam head. That is also the form in which this net will be exhibited at Bad Staffelstein.

It took me about 30 hours to net (again); the large meshes with the pearls in the middle did obviously save some rounds, while fiddling on the pearls took up that time again.
The large mesh is something that has to be worked with utter and extreme care, though, or they will come out slightly uneven, resulting in netting problems further down.
It took me another hour for the finishing works - sewing on and inserting the drawstring and rinsing the net as well as bringing it into form over the styrofoam head. It has about 30 cm diameter; because it is cast on with rather few meshes (only 68), the circumference at the bottom is not too great.


Altogether, I think that the next time around, I'd rather attach the pearls afterwards by sewing them over individual knots of the mesh. I'm not too content with some of the parts of the net, where there are irregularities and where you can see how often the thread broke at places, I guess because of increased friction with the pearls. Overall, I'd say it looks quite nice, though - and my respect for the medieval net-makers is growing and growing!

Because I've grown quite fond of netting as a show-and-tell procedure (as the regular readers here know already), and I want to include netting in the demonstrations at the exhibition vernissage, I have spent yesterday evening doing the cast-on for another net. And this time around it's really close to an original net, found in London and published in Crowfoot et al's "Textiles and Clothing". Ages ago, I had already done some analysis and counting for one of the nets, coming up with 210 loops for cast-on, doubled after about 14 rows of mesh. After misfiring the first cast-on start (the loops grew nastily in length), I have now finished about 210 meshes and their connecting row successfully. I'd love to know how often I have mis-counted during the three hours I needed, but I'm much too lazy to count the loops again. I can however tell you that 210 loops is a lot.


The netting is done in extra-fine silk thread, and with a gauge of 2 mm diameter, resulting in meshes with 3 mm side length. This just fits with the large netting needle - which in turn fits in well with the fact that 3 mm seems to have been a quite common mesh size. If it comes out like the find (read: if I have not mis-counted ages ago when doing the analysis), it will have a lower edge circumference of a whooping 960 mm. That is almost one darn metre to net for about 50 rounds! I'm really curious to see how this net will turn out. And I can promise you that it won't take only 30 hours to complete, this time, since I have about tripled the mesh count...

I'm making good progress, but I'm still behind - at least that's how it feels to me. A few extra (and time-sensitive) things to do during the last days have sort of nudged me behind schedule; not far, but far enough that I get the queasy "Oh no I'm behind" feeling.

So... although there is some progress on the blue hairnet with pearls (which I'm hoping to finish today) and some more progress on the exhibition stuff and finally some more progress with the product line (though not all ready for telling yet), you only get this short text post today, and I'm off to write some more, net some more, weave some more, cut and edit the last videos (with short demonstration snippets of the textile techniques for the exhibition) and so on. And once the hairnet is really finished, you'll see a photo of it here, of course.

I'm getting to appreciate more and more all the work going into designing an exhibition. I've been involved in several exhibitions in the last years - writing articles, helping to decide on exhibits, and making garments to exhibit. But I've never done most of the conceptual work on my own.

Luckily, I'm in the last stages: Packing out and putting together the exhibits for the several places and topics, and writing up the labels/descriptive texts for them. And I should be in the last stages, since the exhibition will next week on Sunday!