Hathor

Brightwell cum Sotwell Womens' Institute, whose hall we often rehearse in, was kind enough to invite Hathor members to one of their regular meetings, where they were having a talk on Arab costume and jewellery.  Three of us were able to go and enjoyed a warm welcome this Tuesday.

First, I have to say, there was cake - a beautifully decorated Christmas one in a raffle.  But when I told my colleagues where I was going, they all asked if it was for a calendar shoot.  I'm not sure if that is a reflection on their view of the WI, or their view of me!

The talk, given with flamboyant humour by ex-diplomat John (I didn't catch his surname), was really two or three talks in one.  He started off by showing us men's prayer beads and explaining the significance of the number of beads, that is, 99 to reflect the attributes or names of God.  Few sets actually have 99 beads: most have 33 bigger beads, which feel nicer to the fingers and are counted 3 times in order to complete the telling.  I forgot to ask if women have prayer beads too.

The women's jewellery was mostly silver or silver alloy - much of it not a very bright silver - and showed a strong Indian influence because of the trade routes.  Hinged and pinned "slave" bracelets and anklets were popular and John had an excellent collection of very chunky ones, often made as an exact fit for the wearer to prevent annoying rattling during work.  Silver, he explained, was considered heavenly, whereas gold was considered diabolical.  In his collection it was only nose rings which puzzlingly came in gold.  Perhaps pierced noses are sensitive and react to silver alloy!  This gold aside, most of his collection was from subsistence-level people and any gems were more often than not pieces of glass or pastes  taken out of discarded European jewellery.

One rather interesting piece was a very Celtic-looking torc of thick silver wire and fine chain, with silver finials.  It was an anklet and so well-worn that it was smooth on the inside.  He passed it round and I was fascinated to imagine the weight of it on the ankles of generations of women.  Another couple of weighty items were enormous hoop earrings which we were relieved to hear didn't hang from tortured lobes but from a hat band!

Most of the jewellery was pretty heavy but often of a type that's currently quite fashionable in this country: big yellow beads made from Moroccan amber that comes from the date palm instead of the pine tree which gives us "The Gold of the North", milky-white agate beads given to lactating mothers, the amuletic Hand of Fatima and giant lockets to store precious writings close to the heart.  Kohl pots had flat-bottoms for ladies, who would set them down at home where they'd always be, and round-bottomed ones on chains for men who'd be out and about doing "important things", as John said, like drinking coffee and putting the world to rights.  There was a necklace of cloves, still fragrant though thought to date from the 1960s, which was supposed to convey wisdom on its wearer.  Unfortunately I didn't take any notes and have forgotten where this custom originates: John told us that on her wedding night, a bride's friends would soak their clove necklaces in water and then wash the bride in the scented water to bestow extra wisdom upon her.

Moving on from the jewellery, John gave us a gallop through face-coverings before really getting stuck into the next bit of the talk: Palestinian embroidery.

A large suitcase of dresses later, we'd oohed and ahhed and learned a lot about this ancient art.  Once upon a time the embroidery style made it possible to tell exactly which village a woman came from, but due to post-war mobility this is no longer true.  The basic dress of this region is black cotton or linen with cross-stitch embroidery in bright colours, predominantly red.  The density of the work on the yoke of the dress showed a woman's marital status, and in many areas, and edging of blue indicated widowhood.  Rather poignantly, one dress had blue flashes hastily sewn onto the sleeves so that a new widow could respectably go out and work.  Long, pointed sleeves were popular in earlier times, and on a work dress (still beautifully decorated) would be fitted inside-out.  Why?  So that they could be rolled up and tied behind the back to keep them clean, thus showing the good side of the fabric and seams.  Most of the dresses had narrow vertical panels of embroidery down the skirt, and a horizontal panel across the bottom back - the fancier and more extensive the panels, the posher the dress.

And there were some very posh dresses!  A few had embroidery covering the entire yoke and skirt, superb and tiny cross-stitch admired by the embroiderers in the audience.  A few of the dresses also used chain stitch and another stitch whose name evades me since I am not a seamstress!  I was quite surprised to see that although most of the older work was a series of geometric patterns, many of the dresses had patterns of birds and flowers, which I think is contrary to the Muslim custom of not producing images of living things.  The answer, John said, was the free embroidery patterns supplied with mercerised thread from Europe.  It seems that when attractive designs were offered free of charge, art beat tradition in many cases!

It was towards the end of his talk that John brought out two white dresses, which were older than the others and made from bleached and unbleached linen.  We all thought they might have been more comfortable than black in the sun - but it seems the machine-made black cotton came very cheaply from Turkey in around 1920, and soon became the norm. 

Other items do exist in this embroidery style, but they seem to have been made exclusively for export.  Jackets were very popular in the 1960s and cushion covers, shawls and "cheats' dresses", that is, poor quality ones made for undiscerning foreigners, were widely made.  The embroidered panels of "proper dresses" were usually made separately and tacked onto the front, to be moved to another when the dress wore out.  Janet had brought a dress from the Sinai, machine embroidered but still using the traditional patterns.  Unauthentic perhaps, but still very attractive.

I'm sure there was another hour's worth of stories about John's 20 years in the Middle East and how he started collecting these wonderful artefacts, but tea and biccies called!

One woman astutely commented on how enlightening it was to see how these very poor people, whose lives we often imagine to be joyless, created such beauty with the skill of their own hands. 

Thank you John and BcS WI for an unusual and engaging night out!

Fiona's recommended reading for lovers of jingles and adornments:

The Linen Goddess by Sheila Paine

Africa Adorned by Angela Fisher

The Shining Cloth by Victoria Rivers

Amulets by Sheila Paine