The Golden Thread: How Fabric Changed History is full of fascinating stories and meticulous research tracing the evolution of textiles from the ancient world to the present.
 | Evidence of ground looms and drop spindles used to create fabric are common in archeological sites around the world—but the cloth was not necessarily the rough, dull garb depicted in popular renderings of prehistoric humans. Some of the oldest threads discovered come from a cave in the Caucasus Mountains (the setting for my fictional world of Kolkha). They were plant fibers dating to 23,000 years ago dyed “gray, black, and turquoise; there were also yellow, red, blue violet, green, khaki, and even pink . . .” “Neolithic fragments of brocaded fabric, complete with fringed border, were unearthed from some Swiss lake dwellings dating back to 3000 BCE.” |
And ancient Egyptians made fibers from strands of glass “sometime around 1600 BCE.”
Flax was one of the most common fibers woven into linen cloth, despite being notoriously complicated to work with. The strength of its fibers and the fact that linen is light, breathable, and feels cool against the skin in hot climates made it a favorite in Mesopotamia and Egypt from ancient times.
 | Wool was more popular in northern climes and often “felted” to bind the fibers into a thick mat. Though shearing sheep is common today, in the past, loose wool was often pulled from the sheep in warmer months. According to the author, it takes “four or five people ten minutes or so to pull away all the loose hanks of wool from a single sheep.” But the pulled wool “is more water-resistant, and less carding—or combing—needs to be done to get rid of the short, new-growth woolen fibers that shearing includes.” |
The author highlights the skill required to make textiles by hand:
A skilled spinner draws fibers out of a jumbled mass and twists them into yarn, often using a weighted drop spindle. “This takes practice: jerky movements will result in lumpy, clotted thread, while drawing out too quickly will mean the finished product is either too thin or too thick. …under-twisted yarn will be too weak, but if it is over-twisted it will buckle up on itself and be prone to wayward knots and tangles . . .”
Spinning thread and twisting it into yarn was often the work of women, “perhaps because it was the form of work most compatible with child-rearing: it could be done at home with only half an eye by those with experience, and could also usually be interrupted and resumed at will.”
Weaving, on the other hand, was not always relegated to women. Historically women did the bulk of weaving in many cultures, but in India and southeastern Africa, men were the primary weavers.
A skilled spinner draws fibers out of a jumbled mass and twists them into yarn, often using a weighted drop spindle. “This takes practice: jerky movements will result in lumpy, clotted thread, while drawing out too quickly will mean the finished product is either too thin or too thick. …under-twisted yarn will be too weak, but if it is over-twisted it will buckle up on itself and be prone to wayward knots and tangles . . .”
Spinning thread and twisting it into yarn was often the work of women, “perhaps because it was the form of work most compatible with child-rearing: it could be done at home with only half an eye by those with experience, and could also usually be interrupted and resumed at will.”
Weaving, on the other hand, was not always relegated to women. Historically women did the bulk of weaving in many cultures, but in India and southeastern Africa, men were the primary weavers.
 | Sumptuary laws, which relegated certain textiles to certain classes of people, existed for thousands of years. They were common in Rome, England, and China, and generally limited fine silks, metallic threads, and lace to the upper classes, reinforcing social rank. “A garment made from silk that had been dyed before it had been woven, for example, could only be worn by someone above ordinary officer level [in China].” These sumptuary laws give added significance to the fine velvet jackets and lace cuffs worn by pirate captains, likely plundered from well-to-do captives, but also symbolizing their disdain for the law and ”proper” social order in visual terms easily grasped by their contemporaries. |
The chapter on the evolution of textiles for cold environments included harrowing stories of the horrid conditions early explorers used trying to survive the arctic in ice-encrusted woolens. I learned more than I ever wanted to know about the susceptibility of the human body to frostbite—particularly male genitalia (!).
Similarly, the description of space-suit evolution highlighted the vulnerability of humans in the vast cold of outer space.
Also fascinating was the use of spidersilk in textiles and why it’s never been upscaled despite the beautiful cloth produced (having enough flies to feed tens of thousands of spiders is nigh impossible and the farmed spiders eat each other).
“Exceptionally light and airy,” sea silk is another beautiful animal-woven fiber. Sea silk is harvested from a mollusk native to Sardinia (from the fibers it creates to affix itself to rocks). Weaving sea silk was a skill passed down through the generations from ancient times on the Mediterranean island. “Today, only one woman is able to harvest and make sea silk.”
Similarly, the description of space-suit evolution highlighted the vulnerability of humans in the vast cold of outer space.
Also fascinating was the use of spidersilk in textiles and why it’s never been upscaled despite the beautiful cloth produced (having enough flies to feed tens of thousands of spiders is nigh impossible and the farmed spiders eat each other).
“Exceptionally light and airy,” sea silk is another beautiful animal-woven fiber. Sea silk is harvested from a mollusk native to Sardinia (from the fibers it creates to affix itself to rocks). Weaving sea silk was a skill passed down through the generations from ancient times on the Mediterranean island. “Today, only one woman is able to harvest and make sea silk.”
 | One of the most intriguing stories in the book is that of Su Hui, a fourth century poet who embroidered a 29x29-character poem to her husband, who had been sent to the borderlands. According to some legends, he took his mistress with him rather than his wife, and the "Star Gauge" poem was either Su Hui’s revenge for his infidelity or an attempt to woo him back. Her reversible poem can be read forward, backward, horizontally, vertically, diagonally, and around the perimeter. It contains nearly 3,000 possible poems. (Sign up for my July newsletter for more on reversible poetry) |
The Golden Thread contains many more fascinating stories related to the history of textiles, and written in an entertaining and accessible style. Available from your local library or for purchase.
