Better by Hand

Sometimes, hand sewing is better. Both my husband and I wear coifs with our SCA garb.  now, I can buy coifs -- there are several sources for nicely made ones -- but that can get pricey, especially for something that is basically a simple item. A number of years ago I picked up a pattern for a three piece coif -- two side panels and a middle gusset.  It's a pretty simple pattern. 

The one drawback of this pattern is that it requires a very long seam attaching a straight piece to a curved piece.  Curved sewing on the sewing machine is ... well, lets just say it is not my strong suit.  For this reason, the whole wardrobe of coifs I envisioned did not come about.  

Fast forward to late last year.  I was packing up to attend an event, and realized that I was without a portable piece of hand work.  As I stood in my work room contemplating this problem, I spied a piece of white linen just about the right size to cut into pieces for a coif (it takes 6 -- four sides and two gussets -- to make the lined coif we both prefer).  I quickly cut out the pieces and made sure that needles and linen thread were in my basket and we headed out. 

During that event, I pinned the pieces together (two sides to each gusset -- and even managed to get them all pointing in the correct direction) and started sewing.  After completing the first seam with a simple running stitch, I decided that I wanted finished seams.  With no iron at the event, I carefully finger pressed the seam I had just completed open.  I was particularly pleased at how well it opened, with almost none of the puckering such a curved seam generally has on the machine.  Since the coif was to be lined, I did not fold under the seam edges, but simply tacked them down with a running stitch.  Since the thread matches the fabric, that stitch barely shows on the right side.

Over the next few weeks whenever I wanted something to do with my hands I picked up this coif, gradually stitching and finishing all four side piece to gusset seams.  I think pinned the two pieces right sides together and sewed them all around -- remembering to leave an opening to turn.  Once I turned the coif right side out I carefully stitched closed that opening, then topstitched all around the edge. 

Top stitching resulting from seam finishing

My husband is pretty happy with this coif.  I never did put tie cords on it, and there are some changes I'll make on the next one, but this certainly proved to me that sometimes hand sewing is the better choice. 

Side view

Back view

Tiny stitches?

It was a bad week for textile work and thought.  I did a little embroidery (got the double running portion of my travel piece, discussed here, done) and nothing in the way of research or study.

Instead, I will talk about a piece seen in a museum, more or less randomly from my photos. The more-or-less random selection is Fragment at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It is a 14th to 15th century wool applique from Islamic Egypt. The museum's info does not indicate what it is or where it was used.  The threads at the top make me thing that it was maybe inset in a larger piece. What I find really striking is the size of the couching threads.  When we do applique today, we take little bitty stitches so that they don't show.  But even in this piece they don't show much, until you get pretty close.  

From a distance it looks relatively neat.

 Then, when you get a closer look, you start to really see those couching threads.

Finally, up close, the threads are quite obvious (as are the overhead lights in the study room in the glass over the piece). 

When a piece is going to be seen only from a distance (a banner or a hanging maybe), perhaps the important thing is to get it done and have it secure. 

Something to think about... as I make my tiny stitches to keep my work neat.

Not always red.

It is true, of course, that many examples of void work embroidery are red (including the two I've already discussed at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, here and here).  In fact, red is such a predominant color for "Assisi" work that some manuals will specifically say that it is always red.

Not so.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art has on display a fantastic piece in blue and yellow. Yup, blue and yellow. Blue outlines and defines the figures and yellow fills the ground.  It's a lovely large piece and I visit it every time I'm up there.   It is this piece (accession number 51.61.2).  Trust me.  The photo on their website is black and white, but the piece is in blue and yellow silk on linen

Every time I visit the piece I find something different to enjoy.  The fat little putti, the lovely leaves, the stems, the fringe on the bottom and one edge.

One visit my husband found me bouncing, just a little bit -- kind of rocking up on my toes and coming back down.  I had just realized that I could identify at least three different "hands" or embroiderers' work in the piece.  It is a large piece (53 1/2 inches long),  and this suggests that it was done in a workshop.

So, if you have a chance to go to the Met, go to Gallery 503 and visit my favorite piece.

Why, yes, I have taken many pictures.  Here are a couple:

Taken at an angle next to the case, showing some of the length

The bottom left corner, showing the lovely fringe

A section of the leaf design, look at those darling animals