On Saturday, September 26th during the Ethereal Court of their Majesties Trimaris at Village Plague, I was sent forward to contemplate my elevation to the esteemed Order of the Laurel.
My vigil will take place on the evening of the 16th of October, and my elevation the following day, on the 17th, which also marks the Hellenic Festival of the Khalkeia, which celebrates craftsmen under the patronage of Athena and Hephaestus. (The 18th is the anniversary of the Battle of Dyrrhachium, but we aren’t going to talk about that.)
This will be a virtual event, with only a small team present here in Castlemere to make this safe and socially distant. More information will be posted as I receive it.
As of this point, I am taking a step back from the SCA for a duration of time yet to be determined. I will still show up at some events, but current politics, coupled with exhaustion due to drama and other issues has driven me out.
I am happy to continue to field questions and will be actively monitoring my site until I feel fit to return to my research for the society’s purpose. Until then, I am going to be focusing on my mundane research for upcoming conferences, and consider moving forward with my PhD.
On our previous, “Why do I live where the sun melts my face” episode, I designed the Archaic Chiton and Archaic Himation for those that needed less fabric than Roman could provide, but still look glam. I’m pretty much kicking most of my Roman pieces to the curb for this. I feel more at home as an Archaic Greek for an alternate summer persona. Probably because it allows me to be more of a peacock in line with my Byzantine primary work when those heavy layers are unsuitable. This gives me time to work on my academic work with Byzantine dress, while keeping cool with simple sewing projects I can bling out extravagantly with trim and bezants.
When it became clear that the weekend of Trimaris Memorial Tourney was going to be facing record breaking heat, I wondered how little I could wear, and still look put together. I feel like my Iron Age peploi/bog dresses/war tubes are just not okay enough outside of running around the field at Pennsic or working around camp. When my husband, who is known for his gingerness, is packing his Roman tunica and shorts and bottles of sunblock instead of his usual two layers of linen, you know what’s up.
Amenhotep Sa Amenemhat has been pretty inspiring with his work in the Bronze Age, predominately his impression of a New Kingdom Egyptian priest of Amun. He suggested I take a look at Egyptian, and I sort of sneered a bit. Really, the most common Egyptian look that women in the SCA attempt is the strappy sheath dress. I have no issue with it, because I’m a fan of supportive garments, I just have my own body image issues that are stopping me from tailoring my own. When Caid announced that their upcoming reign would be Egyptian, my friends from Calafia got in contact with me for sources, so I jumped onto the SCA Egypt group on Facebook and browsed through the files section, which I found out was pretty comprehensive on options outside of the strappy look.
I openly admit to not looking too deeply into Egyptian textiles. It’s not really my “thing”, though there’s quite a bit of overlap between that and some Bronze Age Greek I’ve been reading up on. When a book I have out on Interlibrary Loan, Ariadne’s Threads: The Construction and Significance of Clothes in the Aegean Bronze Age by Bernice R. Jones, cited images and contemporary extant pieces from Egypt that looked to be well-fitted tunic dresses of sorts versus the straps, or the oversized bag-tunic, I decided to look closer, and followed through to Pharaonic Egyptian Clothing by Gillian Vogelsang-Eastwood, where a fast skim was able to make the idea of a bag tunic more doable for my personal tastes.
The bag tunic itself was worn by both men and women, and there were a variety of cuts and pleating styles done with it. Most artwork shows women wearing slim fitting clothing, in reality, this may not have been the case. The bag tunic could have been quite wide, and when belted under the bust, created the wide top. I’ve played this game with wide Roman chitons that required double belting. No thank you. I want part of the “less is more” idea, here. I had a remnant of 27″ wide natural colored linen and a free afternoon. Why the heck not?
The construction is exactly the same as a Roman man’s tunica, or at least, the way I make them. I folded the fabric in half the short way, and formed holes for the arms on the sides. The neckline is based on the bag tunic found at Tarkhan, where it is nothing more than a vertical slit, versus a Roman boatneck style. Other tunics show keyholes, so there was some good variation going on. This image from University College London gives a good diagram, and also shows the inclusion of fringe. I did not fringe my linen, though I was seriously tempted to do so.
I finished the hem of my garment with a slit for walking, and an inkle trim that has been sitting on my loom for the better part of two years. It reminds me of pieces found in Tutankhamen’s tomb, and was given the thumbs up by Amenhotep when I asked for advice.
When I initially tried it on, I was first a bit twitchy about the low cut of the neckline, but had to remind myself that this was far from a modest society. That wasn’t as much of the issue as it wanting to slide off of my shoulders, though. This was rectified by adding a tie to the back, which Vogelsang-Eastwood mentions in her book as a technique done on women’s clothing.
I also tossed together a necklace with some beads I had in my stash, mostly leftover from my previous Bronze Age foray into Mesopotamian garb. The turquoise is ceramic, but not real faience. The red is genuine carnelian, and the cowries are also real, and took a bit of finagling with jump rings to turn into viable pendants. I stacked this with a carnelian necklace I made for my Mesopotamian project and still have, because it’s all real stone and worth a pretty penny.
The finished look on my dressform:
Of course, I still needed to cover my hair. What better than the quintessential Egyptian kerchief? A wig was not going to happen in this heat, and I’m a fan of veiling and covering when out in the sun, because scalp sunburns are awful. This gives the added bonus of protecting the back of the neck as well. It’s basically a half-oval with trim used for ties. Based on ones found in Tut’s tomb. The blue is accurate to one of the finds.
And here I am all put together at Trimaris Memorial Tourney, Jeff takes bad pictures, so I found if I make terrible faces, they come out better. While I normally don’t put on makeup when it can melt off, I felt like the application of malachite-green eyeshadow and some black kohl eyeliner was necessary to complete the look. Both are non-toxic modern alternatives to the period cosmetics. Please, do not rub real malachite or lead galena on your eyes when we can fake it safely.
– One layer and you’re done.
– Throw your hair in braids, pin them up, cover, done.
– Totally non-gendered. Men could wear a shorter tunic if desired.
-The v-neck style can be adjusted a bit to allow for more to show in the back or front. This allowed me to control cleavage, and give my back more “venting”, this was nice and let the usual back sweat evaporate out and cool that spot nicely. It also allowed me to wear a normal t-shirt bra, instead of a bandeau which is what I opt to in my chitons so there are no visible straps.
– Excellent use of a remnant that was otherwise going to just become another Greek chiton. 27″ was plenty wide for me. But this won’t work for everyone.
-Kerchief can be re-configured on your head for a Norse look. I did that later in the day when I was cooking and eating dinner in our camp.
– It doesn’t feel much like, “me”. I got that vibe when I was making it more than wearing it. Though I got a ton of compliments for how put together it looked and the simplicity for dealing with the soaring temps.
-My Egyptian-ish sandals are in bad shape and made me gimpy.
– Not a lot of “peacocking” options outside of bling. The Egyptians didn’t really have dyes that worked on linen, so natural and bleached is the way to go.
Conclusion: Will I wear it again? Yes. I may even make another to add into my Pennsic/hot event rotation that has the waist seam. It will be good for waterbearing on the field, especially with the turban covering my head, and me avoiding the need for a floppy hat that usually just gets in the way. I also really want to try one of the super pleated long sleeved tunics with the waist seam. I figure I can easily sun-dry some pleats into wet linen on a hot enough day here in Trimaris, especially with how dry the summer is shaping up to be. Obviously, this technique would would better in Caid, but hey, we take what is given to us. Will I go for the full on crazy wrapped kalasiris look? Eh, that remains to be seen. I’m happy being Greek. 😉
I’ve already decided that my next stop on the Anna and Amenhotep’s Bronze Age Revue will be Hittite, but that will probably have to wait until after Pennsic once things cool down a smidge. Climate between Anatolia and Egypt were pretty different.
Or something to that effect. Edit 7/12/2019: It’s called a diplax, not himation. Derp.
Being that it will be no less than the temperature of the surface of the sun, plus 3000% humidity this weekend at Trimaris Coronation, I decided that less was more, and I would go in that killer yellow chiton from my previous post.
But then I decided to add more.
As mentioned, the Chios Kore is probably my favorite all-time Archaic statue. And the polychromatic replicas just make my gaudy heart sing. Plus that perfect example of the archaic smile. What does she know?
Here are the photos again, for a refresher:
508907 Kore 675, 510-520 BC, attributed to Archermos from Chios, marble sculpture of archaic age from Chios, Acropolis in Athens Greek Civilization, 6th Century BC; (add.info.: Kore 675, 510-520 BC, attributed to Archermos from Chios, marble sculpture of the archaic age from Chios, the Acropolis in Athens (Greece). Greek Civilization, 6th Century BC. Artwork-location: Athens, Moussío (Acropolis Museum, Archaeological Museum)); De Agostini Picture Library / G. Nimatallah; it is possible that some works by this artist may be protected by third party rights in some territories.
Take a look at her himation, the over-garment that would evolve into the Roman palla and toga. You see this style on multiple statues, such as the ones in the header on this great page that discusses polychromy and its recreation a bit more in detail:
It’s not really a “himation” at all, but more of a peplos that is pinned as a chiton on one shoulder only. I figured this was easy enough to do, and would help complete my look for this weekend. This project was done entirely by machine in less than 2 hours. I think the longest part was just getting the trim down.
I went with the same orientation of the linen as the chiton: using the long weft length instead of the warp. I figured this would give me a comparable drape, and continue on this archaic project being a fabric-conserving venture. In hindsight, it probably could have been longer, but at least it won’t be dragging on the ground.
I started with a length of 2 yards and 10 inches (82″ total) of lightweight blue linen, and finished the two raw edges first. I maintained the finished selvedges as the hems.
After that, I went and started making my peplos, using a 16″ peplum, and ironing the snot out of it to get a nice sharp crease.
I applied a nice contrasting band of meander trim along this crease. In period, it would probably have not tacked the fold down, but rather have been a horizontal stripe along the fabric, and the fold actually being free to open back up. This would have allowed the garment to be worn multiple ways. For the sake of this test project and ease of wearing at an SCA event, I just stitched it down. The next one I try will be more accurate, so I can re-work it into a chiton or peplos or himation as I choose.
I then put bands of trim on the base of the peplum, and at the hem. Mixing them up a bit like on the original artwork. I did not have enough of either to do the vertical stripe down the front, or anything that looked “Grecian” enough to really match this go around. I’ll have to do some hardcore trim shopping and see what’s out there for my next attempt.
Here’s some pictures of my trim layout, complete with cat assist. I pulled up the top trim in the last photo to show my cheater stitches along the fold.
Next was draping. I threw it on the dressform, and formed the peplos. It is short, but look at how nice it fits the body, like the Peplos Kore variants, versus the more draped later styles. Once again, this is a 16″ peplum, and it fits nicely from my shoulder to natural waistline.
While on the dressform, I just started measuring like I would for a typical classical dress: found the center points, measured out my neckline, and then formed my sleeves from there. The Chios Kore shows 7 disc pins, I used 6 round buttons. I’ll probably use one of my smaller fibulae to keep it attached to my chiton, and stop it from slipping down my arm. It really does miss that vertical stripe, so I may have to go back and add one once I find a suitable trim for it.
And just like that, it was done!
Here are belting variations:
And the side views. The open side makes for a more accurate garment, but if one were to make this into a functional full peplos or chiton, it would have to be wide enough to wrap around the body, or a nice breeze may reveal quite a bit.
I’m exceptionally pleased at the color palette, since the primaries were all over the archaic statues. While they were common tempera shades, I do admit I’m not 100% sure on if those colors could be achieved by dyes so early. I’ll have to touch base with my dyer friends to see what they think.
Now, if only I could put my hair in multiple braids to complete this look!