I believe I have previously mentioned the massive, incredible project Fashioning the Viking Age on here before (I know I talk about it in mu classes).  

The initial report can be found here:  ctr.hum.ku.dk/nyhedsliste/fashioning-the-viking-age/

The actual site for it and the descriptions of the three parts are located here:  ​natmus.dk/organisation/forskning-samling-og-bevaring/fashioning-the-viking-age/

But mostly, you need it hit Instagram immediately.  Very specifically you need to check out this item:  https://www.instagram.com/p/CAXiWwLnX49/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Some of you know I am in awe of the type of woven goods that were produced in period (see article here ) and I am overjoyed to see someone replicating one of these incredible, complex pieces.

The Instagram account is totally worth following, btw and the project is astonishing in its scope!

I have talked at length about the relative lack of embroidery in Viking Age finds, but I am going to summarize those earlier discussions here as a preface to some new thoughts.

Embroidery as a whole in the Viking Age is exceptionally rare, compared to the thousands of textile finds that we have.  Figurative embroidery (rather than just a line of stem stitches, such as that that covers a hem seam at Birka) is even more rare.  Of the few samples we do have, some can possibly be attributed to other cultures (such as some of the glorious work from Oseberg being possibly Saxon, Mammen has also been considered as such by some authors, the metal thread embroidery from Valsgarde is thought to either be Byzantine or Slavic, or a copy of the work of those cultures).  Even if all of these were native work, the number of these items is minuscule compared to the over all body of textile finds from the period.

It also is smaller than the number of woven patterns in period.  (I have started a collection of this evidence here:  http://awanderingelf.weebly.com/blog-my-journey/patterned-weaves-preliminary-data ).  Tablet weaving itself is rare compared to prior periods, but that too is a type of woven patterning that exceeds the number of embroidery finds.

I have often wondered why this was the case.  To a modern person, embroidery is an easier art to adopt (and certainly needs less in the way of space or equipment), but in period weaving was dominant way to decorate textiles.  I have seen it argued that this was not a culture of linear art (they were not taught to draw from a young age as we were), and that makes sense.  I also wonder if there was something symbolic in it (we know that many ancient cultures have textile arts playing a prominent role in their mythology), or perhaps ritual.

As I read more about other cultures, times and areas, I see that this lack of embroidery in Northern Europe is reflected elsewhere as well.  Johanna Banck-Burgess notes the same phenomena in Central Europe in early Celtic works as well (this shows up in both her work on the Hochdorf burial and in the article "Prehistoric textile patterns: transfer with obstruction").  There we have various types of patterned weaving that are a result of manipulation of the web on the loom (whether it be by the turn of cards in tablet weaving, or supplemental threads used in soumak-like techniques or insertion of metal rings into the the weave of the cloth).  Embroidery is completely absent in some areas in early Celtic cultures, and very rare in others.

And you know what?  It does not stop there.  In the article, "Unravelling the Tangled Threads of Ancient Embroidery" by Kerstin Droß-Krüpe and Annette Paetz, the idea that mistranslation might play a role in perceptions of profuse embroidery in the ancient world.  I found this rather riveting to read because it very much parallels the conclusions I have come to about later textiles as well, that the number of embroidered items are very low compared to textiles that are either undecorated or decorated by means of weaving.

And of course, now I want to know the why of this even more.

(Please note that this article is not yet complete, but I thought it best to put some preliminary information out there as I keep finding myself referencing this type of material in conversations with others.  If you have other items that you think belong in this collection, please let me know!)

Normally I spend months (or years) collecting data for an article, and then I triple check it, write it up, sit on it for a few more months, do the research again, triple check it and then post it to this blog.  That was pretty much the process for my articles on edgings and plaids.  I have one pet-project that I have been working on far longer than any of these, but I intended to weave samples of the items before posting so I held off sharing my research.  With the addition of 3 Savannah kittens under 2 years old to my house, weaving has been put on hold so I am going to go ahead and share the preliminary collection of data from this research now (in a truly unfinished form).

There is this perpetual idea among reenactors that if clothing is not covered from hem to hem in embroidery, that it is some how bland, dull or will be "cookie cutter Viking" (meaning that everyone will look alike).  The fact is that we have very little in the way of Viking Age embroidery (and some of it, such as the metal thread Valsgard items, are considered likely to be imported goods).  My own opinion is that the items like wallhangings are far more durable, and will last generations, while an embroidered garment would not last nearly as long due to wear (and would then be limited to only the highest levels of society). Further, there were ways, in period, of decorating the cloth itself that do not take too much additional time on behalf of the weaver.  We see ribbed textiles as well as those with warp or weft floats.  These techniques can provide texture and interest in a garment in less time than embroidery or other more complex methods of adornment.
​

Some textiles are woven in more complex brocade or tapestry techniques to create patterns.  These can be as simple as rows of soumak weaving to form bands or diagonal lines, or detailed brocade styles such as krabbasnår or tapestry techniques to form complex patterning.  Below I will share some of the items I have found so far into my research on this type of textile from the Viking Age. Note that here I am only collecting data for wider textiles, and not bands woven in this technique.

The grave at Oseberg (834AD) is full of wonderful things, from exceedingly fine diamond twill to elaborate (and likely imported) embroideries, to incredible silks (and the woodwork alone is worth taking the time to look up this find).  Among the many items from this grave were some items created using incredible brocading techniques.  

Tapestry
There are many fragments of one (or possibly more) woven tapestries that depict a procession of some sort.  This work had a wool warp and wool soumak and supplimentary weft and likely a linen weft which is now gone, it also had tablet woven borders.  This work was narrow and might well have been woven on the Oseberg frame loom.  (Images from Unimus.no)

Another bit of interesting tapestry from this grave is a more floral piece that is thought to have been part of a pillowcover, due to traces of down being attached to one surface.

Oseberg also yields remnants of Åklæ (coverlets or possibly wall hangings, described as 'fabrics with brocading of coarse woolen thread'). One of these items has geometric patterns woven in the krabbasnår technique.  This type of weaving still exists today in Scandinavia where it is currently woven on a horizontal loom with underside of the weaving being the "correct" side of the cloth.  The weaver uses a mirror to better see the bottom of the fabric to check for errors.  In my sampling of this type of work on a warp-weighted loom, I discovered that I very easily could weave it where I could see the correct side as I worked.  I used naalbinding needles with my supplementary weft hanging behind the loom (tapestry bobbins work as well).  It is easy to manipulate the warp threads to reach through them and pull the needle or bobbin up through the correct space because the warp is more mobile than warp on a two beam loom (my manipulation of it does not cause the threads to sag the way it would on a modern horizontal loom).

Another item that is listed as possibly an Åklæ is the geometric design pictured below in an aquarelle from the find and a patter from Sophie Krafft's book describing the designs from the Oseberg burial.

While it is hard to know the full usage of these items, they are considered to be home goods (coverlets, wall-hangings, possibly cushion covers) be those who have examined them.

Krabbasnår and other decorative weavings such as Opphämta also show up at Birka.  Five examples have a dense, ribbed background, as did the Oseberg Åklæ, with a coarse woven pattern floating over it.  In addition to those items, there are also textiles from Birka that are described as being "tapestry-like" fabrics.  In these textiles, the weft completely obscures the warp yarn. Soumak is also seen in Birka fabrics.

Below is a chart of the tapestry and brocade textiles listed in Birka III (Geijer) and Textilien und Tracht in Haithabu and Schleswig (Hägg).  I hope to soon make a separate post detailing what information I can find on these items.

Several items at Birka fall into the category of soumak weaves, including Birka 597.

Another example from Birka that I believe to be soumak is from 943.  This textile is a wool cloth with a hardspun, blue-green linen yarn that passes through the base fabric in lengths of equal size on both sides, forming diagonal lines.  

The textiles from this grave are described as being of exceptional quality.  Included among these is a very fine white wool tabby with fine wefts forming crosses and lozenges.  (Hald, Bogs and Burials)

Hedeby yields items from four graves, 497, 5/1964, 188/1960 and 159/1960 that have textiles that fall into the categories previously mentioned.

In the female grave at Scar there was both a self-patterned tabby and a brocaded textile that was possibly part of a pillow or cover.
​

While researching the Oseberg items, I found references to three additional Norwegian finds of brocade or tapestry techniques.  These are from Haugen in Rolvsøy, Bo in Torvastad and Jåtten in Helland.  Of these I have already sourced images from Bo in Torvastad (source, Unimus.no).

​

Valsgarde:  In Northern European Textiles, there is mention of a pre-Viking Age textile with now vanished pattern threads (and the same grave also has a fabric with a warp or weft float-pattern).  Unfortunately, at this time I know little else about this cloth, including the fibre content.

Saxon: Cloth and Clothing in Early Anglo-Saxon England (Penelope Walton Rogers) has a section dedicated tapestry and soumak weaves.  Soumak shows up at Sutton Hoo and Taplow, with both basic forms and in combination with blocks of tapestry weave, the latter of which are compared to Valsgarde 8, Birka and Oseberg.

I also occasionally come across items with little or no provenance for which I would love have the details.  An example is this image (below), which is described as Slavic embroidery, but it looks very much to me like it could be woven work.  I would absolutely love more information either way.

I think that this could also be subtitled "My love-hate relationship with Herringbone cloth".

In my Textiles and Dress Class, I discuss what types of cloth are the most common in the Viking Age and talk bit about tracking down modern textiles that, even if not perfect, are good options for reenactment.  Another item I touch on in that class is making good choices.  We all love the rare graves, and unique items, but one kit made of 20 different unique pieces steps away from being a good historic representation of a time.  An easy way to start building a better kit is in your cloth choices, and one can consider weave structure, threadcount, and color when making those choices. 

For me personally, I lean towards the most common weaves (tabby and twill), whenever possible.  I will add an element such as broken diamond twill to my kit for a very high status persona, but would not add broken diamond twill, herringbone cloth, a silk band, tablet weaving, and possements all to one costume because it would be showing too much that was rare in period all at once.  My love-hate relationship with herringbone reflects the fact that I find the weave attracted, but I am often frustrated when it tends to be more readily available in the weights I want than the more historically common twill and tabby.  (And this is additionally frustrating when the herringbone cloth is two tone, which is also something less common in period.)

I turned the data from Lise Bender Jørgense's book Prehistoric Scandinavian Textiles, as well as some additional works, into charts to help illustrate how common (or not) weaves were in various areas.

Denmark - 9th Century

Jørgensen's work on the textiles of Denmark covers graves, excluding Hedeby, and is nicely broken down into two centuries.  One issue with this work that it only covers weave structure in the synopsis, and for me to break it down between linen and wool, I would have to reference back to collect that data.  Further, some of the data here is provided by textile pseudomorphs, which only show us the weave structure and leave no cloth to analyze.  It is likely that some amount (even a good amount, according to the author) of the tabby shown here is linen.  It is also possible that some of the tabby weave represents a type of fine, open weave wool that was used for veils and mantles but that was also used as specific burial clothes or covers.  It is also noted by the author that there are additional "fine silks" not covered in her work because they were detailed elsewhere.

For Denmark the charts are based on the total number of textiles/textile impressions.

Denmark - 10th Century

The notes above apply to this category also.

Hedeby Graves

For Hedeby I had to reference the book Tools for Textile Production from Birka and Hedeby by Eva Andersson; Die Textilfunde aus der Siedlung und aus den Grabern von Haithabu by Inga Hägg; and VikingAge.org, as well as Jørgensen's work to obtain data for the chart.

Note that I only have the percentages for weave structure, not total number of fragments for Hedeby, and the percentages in Andersson's work are listed below.  I believe it is, in part representative of the silk cloth, possaments or metal brocaded bands found in the graves.  As mentioned previously, some of the fine tabbies might represent burial cloth.  

It is also interesting to note that only one of the "other twills" is a herringbone weave, and the only herringbone sample from the settlement finds was from a legwrap.  Also relative, the most common cloth from the settlement is 2/2 twill.

Sweden - Excluding Birka and Gotland

One of the nice things about Jørgensen's work is she does break out unusual segments of data, such as that from Gotland.  This allows the reader to look at Sweden and Gotland (which tend to have very different types of grave goods) individually, rather than as a whole, which can skew the presentation.

Birka - Linen & Wool Cloth

For Birka I had two separate sets of data from which to work.  One from the analysis in Jørgensen's book, and the other from Andersson.  This first breaks it down into fiber types, as well as weave, but is based on number of graves, rather than number of textiles.

Birka - Textiles

This chart was based on a chart produced by Inga Hägg that covers the Birka textiles and that was reproduced in Andersson's work.

Norway

My only note here is that Jørgensen makes the comment that the Broken Diamond Twill is far more common in Western Norway, than in the South East.

York

For York I had to compile information from Anglo-Scandinavian Finds from Lloyds Bank, Pavement and Other sites by Arthur MacGregor and Textiles, Cordage and Raw Fibre from 16-22 Coppergate by Penelope Walton.  Some of the fragments might represent one piece of cloth, but the author's were not completely sure and hence they, and I, listed them separate.  
​

To say that I completely love linen would be a gross understatement on my part.  I find this cloth to be a god-send in the local humid summers.  It allows me to, quite comfortably, wear multiple layers of garb (presenting a more period look), than I otherwise could.  Also, if you are using a long-staple linen, the fabric has great longevity.

I am the first to admit, however, that I use far, far more linen in period than my persona would have, and in far, far more colors.  It is an exception that I make for events such as Pennsic, where it is almost a requirement for my comfort.  I think most of us, in this area, tend to do that.  What I want to discuss today though, is evidence for the use of linen in the Viking Age.  Why?  Because I have heard far too often very flat statements that Vikings rarely used linen, they never grew their own and sometimes narrower statements, that seem like they should have more of a foundation, such as "in Norway in the Viking Age no one used linen". 

To start, Linen is a bast fiber spun from the flax plant.  The first use of flax was in 7000BC in Turkey. (Ejstrud, 17)  The first evidence of flax in Scandinavia is a seed from a Danish Iron Age find with the earliest piece of fabric being from the Roman Iron Age.  Sweden has shows shows evidence of flax cultivation with similar dating to that of Denmark.  (Ejstrud, et. al. 18; Viklund 509, 510)  

There are other bast fibers as well, such as nettle and hemp, that were accessible to the Viking Age Norse.  In archaeological finds it can even be difficult to differentiate between bast fibers.  I have also noticed a trend, of late, where people are searching in desperation for hemp cloth to use for garments after the publishing of the article "Viking and Early Middle Ages Textiles Proven to be Made from Hemp".  (https://www.nature.com/articles/srep02686 )

What I find interesting about that list bit, is that that particular study, while fascinating, used only 10 textiles, all of which were either decorative or home goods (two coverlets and the rest wall hangings).  6 are pretty solidly Viking Age, two others might be (skewing, by date, more to wards "might not"), and two are not.  Only 4 of the tent total show use of hemp, and three of those show mixed use of flax and hemp. (Skoglund)  I find that this is a fascinating piece of research, but it does not convince me that hemp would have been a top choice for garments.

This week I stumbled on a newer piece of research that thoroughly analyzed a number of textiles from Western Norway to fully determine whether the bast fibers involved were flax or hemp.  In, "Identifying plant fibre textiles from Norwegian Merovingian Period and Viking Age graves", they look at ten samples, nine of which are considered to be from CLOTHING, and the last being from a purse. (​https://www.academia.edu/34152492/Identifying_plant_fibre_textiles_from_Norwegian_Merovingian_Period_and_Viking_Age_graves_The_Late_Iron_Age_Collection_of_the_University_Museum_of_Bergen )  This piece, delightfully, helps to answer some of my questions.

9 of the 10 items were positively identified as flax and the final one was only able to be determined to be some type of bast fiber.  (Lukešová) . I do hope that similar studies are carried out in a few other locations, to further confirm (or to counter) my thoughts that bast fiber garments worn by those of some social status (or at least wealthy enough to have a set of oval brooches, I will not deny that someone of lesser means might well have worked with native nettle or merely worn only layers of wool), were indeed flax rather than other alternatives. (See quote from conclusion below.)

There is evidence in some areas of Viking Age Scandinavia of pit houses, which are typically associated with weaving of linen or other bast fibers (the environment inside is more humid, making it ideal for weaving the difficult threads).  Production tools and location for seeds and pollen finds can also be considered if one was trying to determine if flax and/or hemp is locally produced, but whether it was local or imported is less relevant at this moment to me than proof that, indeed, these garments were made of flax.  (As a side note, Hägg, in her most recent work at Hedeby, mentions that she believes it is possible that the pleated underdresses were actually a Slavic imported item.  That is a bit of research I would dearly love to see more information on!)

Weave Structure

Even more interesting in this recent paper, was the information that two of the garments (both identified as "Women's clothing") were not the tabby weave most often associated with but lozenge twill.  Of those, one dates to the Viking Age (the other is Merovingian Age) and is from Vinjum in Aurland.  (Also interesting is that the paper labels this as a 10th Century find, as does Lise Bender Jørgensen, but Sørheim lists it as 850CE in her paper about the imported metal work.)  Finds of linen in twill are rather rare, so this shoes that a diamond twill is a possibility, even if an archaeological rarity.

That of course let me on a chase for more information about twill weaves in linen, and I did turn up a couple of additional items.  (Note that this is not a formal survey on my part, and I did not even take a crack at the Birka material for this, it was just a quick glance at Jørgensen's catalog of finds as well as Walton Roger's work at York.)

Vinjum in Aurland:
Fragments, 2.8X2cm. Diamond twill with a repeat of 20/10. Z/Z spun, 38/26 threads per cm. She lists it as probably linen. (Jørgensen)

Denmark: Søllested, Denmark (Item 97 in the book): Linen in broken twill or possible diamond twill; Z/Z; 30/13 threads per cm. (I am unsure of the gender of this grave, but there are no brooches in the grave.) (Jørgensen)

Sweden: Vivallen, Tännäs s., Härjedalen, SHM 15052: 4 Grave 4 (Item 35 under Viking Age Sweden): 1) 2/1 twill, Z/Z, 20/10 threads per cm, plant fibre (Jørgensen)

Sweden: Mossegårde, Fiilene s., Vi.istergiitland. SHM 15333 (Item 65):
1) 1/2 Gooseeye, Z/Z repeat of 18/12, thread count of 32/13 per cm, probably linen; 3) 1/2 Gooseeye Z/Z; plant fibre (Jørgensen)

Further, Penelope Walton Rogers' work from York records:

So what does this mean for me?  It is, indeed, possible to use a very occasional linen twill garment in a high status kit.  Would I choose to make the entire kit from twill and diamond twill linen?  No, but a single garment could be possible.

Color

And one more note about linen, because this item also comes up regularly and I mentioned before that I use linen in far more colors than would have been available historically.  We know that linen could be dyed blue, as it turns up in archaeology.  Woad and Indigo coat the fiber shaft in a manner differently than others dyes, such as madder, where dye does not take up well and often results in a pale shade that is not light fast.  I have personally gotten some pretty light yellows on linen with weld and Queen Anne's Lace, and a lovely soft coral with madder, but I do not know that I could say that the Viking Age Norse would have desired such subtle colors.

In my research on Stripes and Plaids, I did make note of several Viking Age examples of colored linen and those are noted below (again, this is not a formal nor complete survey):

• Birka 563: Blue linen fabric decorated with red twined string
• Birka 563: Rust colored linen (noted that it could be color deposited in the grave)
• Birka 762: Possible red linen underdress
• Birka: Linen and wool striped with blue and reddish-brown (the linen was blue), ribbed textile
• Birka 757: Plaid with 5-6 blue threads alternated with red and white
• Birka 60: Blue-green linen, possibly discolored from contact with bronze
• Kostrup ACQ: Blue linen tabby loop from an aprondress
• Hyrt in Voss, Norway: Blue linen underdress in a female grave
• Kaupang: Fine blue tabby
• Hedeby (Graves): Blue and white tabby linen, 4mm checks, likely an underdress
• Hedeby (Graves): Blue and red tabby linen
• Pskov: Blue linen underdress (pleated neckline), as well as blue linen loop and textile from the over dress
• Gnezdovo: Blue linen underdress (pleated neckline)

My Personal Plans

I plan to continue to use linen, rather than other bast fibers, for under garments and underdresses, and even occasionally headcoverings, in my more accurate kit.  I might eventually incorporate a piece or two of twill linen as well, and my focus, in terms of color, will continue to be bleached, natural and blue linens over all.  (For the bulk of my non-demo, non-teaching events, however, I will continue to use the spectrum of colors in my currently linen garments, but explaining, as I do now, the reasons behind my choices when discussing my garments.)

​Resources

Bender Jørgensen, Lise.  Prehistoric Scandinavian Textiles, (Det Kongelige Nordiske oldskriftselskab), 1986.

Ejstrud, Bo, Andresen, Stina, Appel, Amanda, Gjerlevsen, Sara and Thomsen, Birgit. “Experiments with flax at the Ribe Viking Centre” (Ribe Viking Centre & University of Southern Denmark), 2001.

Lukešová, Hana, Adrià Salvador Palau and Bodil Holst. "Identifying plant fibre textiles from Norwegian Merovingian Period and Viking Age graves." Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports, 2017. 

Skoglund, G., Nockert, M, and Holst, B.  “Viking and Early Middle Ages Northern Scandinavian Textiles Proven to be made with Hemp.”  Scientific Reports, 2013.

Sørheim, H. "Three Prominent Norwegian Ladies with British Connections." Acta Archaeologica 82. (2011)

​Walton Rogers, P. "Textiles, Cordage and Raw Fiber from 16-22 Coppergate,” The Archaeology of York Volume 17: The Small Finds. 1989.

​Viklund, Karin.  “Flax in Sweden: the archaeobotanical, archaeological and historical evidence.”  Veget Hist Archaeobot, 2011.

For most reenactors, the aprondress (also called hangerock, tragerrock or smokkr) is the ubiquitous female garment of the Viking Age.  In fact, I am frequently asked by women if they have to wear the aprondress in order to do a Viking Age Norse impression.  

Archaeology shows that during the latter part of the 10th Century the necessary brooches for the garment appear less frequently in graves and they eventually disappear by the end of the 11th century across Scandinavia.  (Hägg, Textilien un Tracht, 320-321).  In Denmark the brooches fall out of favor as early as 900CE in some areas.  (Eisenschmidt, 100) This could be, in part, due to adoption of Christianity, and with it a more continental style of costume.  The new style of costume could have been due to foreign fashions becoming a status symbol among the elite and wealthy in Scandinavia. 

The first evidence of shift in costume is seen in Denmark, particularly in trade centers such as Hedeby.  Denmark shared a border with the Carolingian Empire and trade between the two locations was common.  Eventually, foreign items became status symbols in Scandinavia.  Examples of this include items such as Frankish belt mounts (items that later morphed into their own form of trefoil brooch), and goods such as leather pouches and belts that were possessed by the elite of society.  (Krag, Oriental Influences, 113-114)  There was even foreign influence on dress beyond accessories and ornament.  The caftan is a an example of such an item as it was thought to have either been in imitation of high rank foreign dress, or that the garments were received as gifts from foreign officials.  (Hägg, Textilien un Tracht, 327; Krag, Christian Influences, 239-241; Geijer, Textile finds, 95-96; Andersson, Birka, 39-40).

Another garment that likely has ties to both status and conversion could be women’s headcoverings.  Very fine wool and silk tabbies, as well as an impression of open weave linen, have been found in numerous graves, particularly those of women, from the Viking Age and beyond.  Frequently this cloth is interpreted as veils or caps because of their similarity with the existing identifiable headcoverings from Dublin, Lincoln and York.  The 10th Century grave from Hørning had such a fine wool mantle affixed to a wide tablet woven band that appeared to have been draped across the head and down along the body in the manner of a Frankish, Byzantine or Roman dress (Krag, Denmark, 29-34)

Additional places where a shift in costume likely happened earlier were certain settlements in the British Isles, where it is thought that in many locations the Norse style of dress was abandoned within a mere generation or two, or that the settlers were from Denmark (where fashion had already changed) rather than Norway or Sweden.  (Kershaw, 225-227)

Would you or your family be recipients of exotic foreign gifts (and fashions), either from your own ruler or from a foreign official?

• Gifting was a common practice of the period, with foreign officials gifting to the high status Norse men in their military.  Likewise, Norse chieftains would have gifted to their own high ranking men to keep their alliance.

​Would you be considered high status or wealthy?

• It is possibly that some high status individuals would take on new fashions before others.

Do you live in an urban area/trade center rather than rurally?

• Urban and trade centers had more access to the most desirable goods, as well as more news of what was happening elsewhere.

Do you live in a region that has already converted to Christianity? 

• While these garments are not limited to Christians, it might be more likely that you adopt what could have initially perceived as Christian dress at the time, before it became ”fashion” for others.

Does your chosen region and time show a decline in oval brooches as grave goods?

• Denmark, for example, had oval brooches disappear from graves earlier than other sites.
• Some parts of Great Britain showed a decline in specific Norse dress styles after only a couple of generations.

​In the late 10th Century the popularity of the aprondress declined and was replaced by fashion that evolved, in part, from surrounding cultures.  There are a few existing male garments from this period, but little outside of headcoverings for women.  Study of the known textiles, foreign influences, art from foreign influencers, and the occasional written record is needed to extrapolate what how this costume likely looked.

In this example of such possible fashion, this woman wears a gown of fine wool twill or tabby, dyed blue (well-dyed cloth would be a status symbol).  Her sleeves are of an exaggerated length and pushed back up onto the forearm.  Because she has the means, they are held there with bracelets or silk cloth cuffs could have been an option.

The dress itself could possibly have some tailoring as that practice started before this style arose amongst the Norse, but is not a closely fitted garment.

The outer gown is worn over a linen dress, closed at the throat with a small brooch.  She wears a necklace of colorful glass beads and metal pendants.  While round pendants are used here, a cross would also be a an option.

Her headcovering consists of a small cap or cloth (similar to those from Dublin) covered with a veil.  This would likely be fine, open weave wool, though linen or silk are also possibilities. The veil itself might be edged with a fine, brocaded tablet woven band.

The length of dress and the long sleeves, as well as the dyed cloth and other jewelry show her status.  A woman with less wealth might have a slightly shorter gown, sleeves that reach the wrist only, less or no jewelry and undyed cloth (from a naturally pigmented sheep’s wool).

Undertunic:  This garment would be most likely undyed and could be linen or wool.  Sleeves would likely taper to the wrist.  Gores or godets at the sides (and possibly front/back) could allow for movement, but this layer would likely have less volume than the garment under which it is worn.  It is possible that this garment can have a very long slit in the front at the neck, held closed with a small brooch.

During the late Viking age this linen garment might have been a Slavic import (Hägg, Textilien, p325) and might also have been finely pleated into a neckline such as seen in examples from Birka and Hedeby.  

Tunic/Dress:  This layer would most likely be of wool tabby or twill, with a high status garment possibly being of a broken-diamond twill.  The sleeves would be long and likely fitted at the wrist (observe the tapered sleeves in the Moselund and Kraglund tunics) through the middle of the 11th century, but often images show a wider sleeve at the end of that period, eventually evolving into the the gorgeous bell sleeves of the 12th century.  The sleeves could also be exceptionally long, and pushed back to form small wrinkles at the wrist.  Necklines might have been be a keyhole, circle, oval or perhaps a slit similar to that from the Kraglund garment.  Because this type costume was a status item during the Viking Age, the gown would be long. Gores at the sides, and possibly the front and back, allow for movement.
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This dress could also be worn in layers over an undertunic.  A wealthy woman with connections might also have had silk trim on her gown, or have had cloth that was well dyed.

Garment References:  To help compile my own costume, I worked with contemporary art from nearby cultures and also the extant garments we have that might date, at least, to the end of the Viking Age.  I also sourced the Hedeby fragments, and some of the Herjolfsnes finds, as Inga Hägg mentions in her work at Hedeby that the tunics there were of similar construction to some of the types found at later Greenland.

Belts:  There is little evidence for belts in female graves of the earlier Viking Age, likely because one could suspend tools from the oval brooches or even from a single brooch that served as a tool hanger.  Belts do appear, however, a few times in in period evidence, particularly in the British Isles.  Further, the Hedeby aprondress fragment shows wear at the waist.  (LeGett, Belts). 

It is also possible that cloth belts without metal fittings were worn, such as a cloth girdle or sash as could be found in other areas of the world during the Viking Age.  As the aprondress was falling from fashion, and other styles of dress were adopted belts might have become more common.  For example, after the Migration Era (7th century and onward), it seems that Saxon women were shifting towards styles with a Mediterranean influence and these included woven belts, including possibly tablet weaving or open, net-like cloth sashes with fringed ends.  (Walton Rogers, Cloth and Clothing, 220-221).   A belt is even specifically mentioned in the poem “The Baptism of King Harald” which occurred in 826AD.  Here the Danish King and his wife’s newly adopted attire for the ceremony is described.  She wears a gold-brocade silk costume, a gold-wrought veil, belt and bracelet.  (Krag, Christian Influences, 241).  There are also images of women, from these areas of influence (Saxon and Byzantine), that seem to show a belt as part of the costume.

Remember too that just as with earlier Viking costume, that wearing no belt at all is an option.

Mantles/Cloaks: Metal figures and the Oseberg tapestry, as well as archaeological finds, show women wore some sort of layer over their tunics and gowns. Both cloaks and coats as part of Norse dress have been suggested by various experts. 

As time progresses cloaks or mantles seem to be more common in depictions from other cultures (such as Byzantine or Saxon).  A cloak or mantle could be pinned in the center front.  Rectangular or square cloaks would be optimal with half-circle being a possible very high status option. 

Headdresses:  Metal icons from the Viking Age show women with their hair left uncovered in elaborate braids.  These figures also seem to depict high status dress, and it is possible that uncovered hair might have been for festivals during that time period.  However, there are also theories that those icons might not have represented human women or dress at all and that too should be considered here.

With the waning of the Viking Age came Christianity, and with that new religion arrived the concept of covering ones hair for modesty.  While it is often said that pagan Norse women “always” wore their hair uncovered and Christian women “always” covered their hair, the evidence does not make such a clear delineation.  There can be very practical reasons (beyond fashion) for covering ones hair, especially where working in the sun or around smoky fires.

The largest collection of extant women’s head coverings comes from Dublin.  These finds, dated 10th-12th century, are of either silk or very fine, gauzy wool, have small scarves, caps and veils.  There are a number of ways to wear these items, including using the scarves and caps as a base for a veil, which corresponds to well to some head dress styles from Europe during the same time period.  Linen, while not found as a headcovering at the sites, might also have been a possibility. 

The caps that have been found are universally narrow with the final width measuring between 15-18cm wide.  Half of the extant items show signs of having a dart stitched into the back (allowing it to conform to the head), some of these had the excess fabric still visible on the outside of the cap forming a peak.  Some caps were also sewn down the back, while others were open (possibly to accommodate a bun?).  There are also several narrow scarves, some with fringed ends, and some even narrower cloth bands.  Many of these items have been dyed.  All of this points to variety in possible headcovering styles.

I am working with this type of kit currently.  Specifically, I am trying to build out an appropriate costume for a high status woman from late Viking Age Denmark.  My patterning inspirations come from Hedeby (and consequently, Herjolfsnes) and Moselund, with exaggerated long sleeves styled after those from 10th and 11th Century art, such as the image to the left from the New Minster Charter (966CE). 

I am using layered headcoverings based on those from Dublin (though in my photo here, my wool veil is slipping off the back due to my taking it off to use as a class example and not having a mirror when I replaced it).  For my photo I am wearing a leather belt, because I have not yet crafted one for myself that is textile based. 

This garment is in linen and was to test the construction of my Hedeby/Moselund patterning.  The next iteration will be in fine, dark blue wool twill with silk trim.  I also have dyed a fine wool mantle/veil that fits with graves such as that from Hørning and Fyrkat.  While my look represents a woman of high status, and has elements, such as the veil, that fits with Christian ideals, she is not necessarily a convert herself (as there are thoughts that graves such as Fyrkat might have been to a volva).  I look forward to working further with these concepts, patterns and the over all look.

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Geijer, Agnes.  Birka III, Die Textilefunde aus Den Grabern.  Uppsala,1938.

Geijer, Agnes.  “The Textile Finds from Birka,” Cloth and Clothing in Medieval Europe (Heinemann Educational Books), 1984.

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Hägg, Inga.  Die Textilefunde aus der Siedlung und us den Gräbern von Haithabu (Karl Wachlotz Verlag). 1991.

Hägg, Inga.  Die Textilefunde aus dem Hafen von Haithabu (Karl Wachlotz Verlag). 1984.

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Hägg, Inga.  “Viking Womens Dress at Birka,” Cloth and Clothing in Medieval Europe (Heinemann Educational Books), 1984.

Hägg, Inga. Textilien und Tracht in Haithabu and Schleswif (Wachholtz Murmann Publishhers), 2015.

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Hedeager Krag, Anne.  “Reconstruction of a Viking Magnate Dress”, Archäologische Textilfunde - Archaeological Textiles: Textilsymposium Neunmünster 4.-7.5, 1993, NESAT 5.  1994.

Hedeager Krag, Anne. “Denmark - Europe: Dress and Fashion in Denmark's Viking Age”, Northern Archaeological Textiles; Textile Symposium in Edinburgh, 5th-7th May 1999, NESAT 7 (Oxbow Books), 2005.

Hedeager Krag, Anne. “Oriental Influences in The Danish Viking Age: Kaftan and Belt with Pouch”, North European Symposium for Archaeological Textiles X, Oxbow Books, Ancient Textiles Series Vol. 5, 2009.

Hedeager Krag, Anne. “Finely Woven textiles from the Danish Viking Age”, NESAT IX, Archäologische Textilfunde  - Archaeological Textiles, 2007.

Hedeager Krag, Anne. “Dress and Power in Prehistoric Scandinavia c. 550-1050A.D.”, Textiles in European Archaeology: Report from the 6th NESAT Symposium, 7-11th May 1996 in Borås (Göteborg University), 1998.

Hedeager Krag, Anne. “Finely Woven Textiles from the Danish Viking Age”,

Hedeager Krag, Anne. “New Light on a Viking Garment from Ladby, Denmark”, Acta Archaeologica Lodziensla Nr 50/1: Priceless Invention of Humanity – Textiles, NESAT 8, 2004.

Hedeager Krag, Anne.  “Christian Influences and Symbols of Power in Textiles from Viking Age Denmark. Christian Influence from the Continent”, Ancient Textiles: Production, Craft and Society (Oxbow Books), 2008.

Hedeager Madsen, Anne. “Women's Dress in the Viking Period in Denmark, Based on Tortoise Brooches and Textile Remains”, Textiles in Northern Archaeology; NESAT Textile Symposium in York 6-9 May 1987, NESAT 3 (Archetype Publications), 1990.

Heckett, Elizabeth Wincott.  Viking Age Headcoverings from Dublin (Royal Irish Academy), 2003.

Heckett, Elizabeth Wincott.  “Medieval Textiles from Waterford City”, Archäologische Textilfunde - Archaeological Textiles: Textilsymposium Neunmünster 4.-7.5, 1993, NESAT 5.  1994.

Helle, Knut.  Cambridge History of Scandinavia, Volume 1 (Cambridge University Press), 2003.

Henry, Philippa A. Textiles as Indices of Late Saxon Social Dynamics”, Textiles in European Archaeology: Report from the 6th NESAT Symposium, 7-11th May 1996 in Borås (Göteborg University), 1998.

Henry, Philippa A. “Who Produced Textiles?  Changing Gender Roles in Late Saxon Textile Production: the Archaeological and Documentary Evidence”, Northern Archaeological Textiles; Textile Symposium in Edinburgh, 5th-7th May 1999, NESAT 7 (Oxbow Books), 2005.

Jenkins, David. The Cambridge History of Western Textiles (Cambridge University Press), 2003.

Kjellberg, Anne. “Medieval Textiles from the Excavations in the Old Town of Oslo”, Textilsymposium Neumünster: Archäologische Textilfunde (NESAT 1), 1981.

Kershaw, Jennifer. Viking Identities: Scandinavian Jewelry in England (Oxford University Press), 2013.

Krag, Anne Hedeager  and Lise Ræder Knudsen:
Vikingetidstekstiler. Nye opdagelser fra gravfundene i Hvilehøj og Hørning. Nationalmuseets Arbejdsmark. København 1999, 159-170. (in Danish with english summary)

Lee, Christina. “Viking Age Women”, In Search of Vikings: Interdisciplinary Approaches to the Scandinavian Heritage of North-West England (CRC Press), 2014.

Lindström, Märta. “Medieval Textiles Finds in Lund”, Textilsymposium Neumünster: Archäologische Textilfunde (NESAT 1), 1981.

Nordeide, Sæbjorg Walaker. “Urbanism and Christianity in Norway”, The Viking Age: Ireland and the West (Four Courts Press), 2010.

Norstein, Frida Espolin. “Migration and the creation of identity in the Viking diaspora: A COMPARATIVE STUDY OF VIKING AGE FUNERARY RITES FROM NORTHERN SCOTLAND AND MØRE OG ROMSDAL”, University of Oslo, 2014.

Ostergaard, Else. Woven into the Earth: Textile finds in Norse Greenland (Aarhus University Press), 2004.

Owen-Crocker, Gale R.  Dress in Anglo-Saxon England (Boydell Press), 2010.

Pritchard, F. “Aspects of the Wool Textiles from Viking Age Dublin.” Archaeological Textiles in Northern Europe: Report from the 4th NESAT Symposium 1.-.5 May 1990, NESAT 4, 1992.

Pritchard, F. ”Textiles from Recent Excavations in the City of London Introduction”, Textilsymposium Neumünster: Archäologische Textilfunde (NESAT 1), 1981.

Pritchard, F. “Silk Braids and Textiles of the Viking Age from Dublin”, Archaeological Textiles: Report from the 2nd NESAT Sumposium (København Universitet), 1998.

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Skogland, G., M. Nockert and B. Holst.  “Viking and Early Middle Ages Northern Scandinavian Textiles Proven to be Made with Hemp,” Nature, 2013.

Sorheim, Helge, ‘Three Prominent Norwegian Ladies with British Connections’, Acta Archaeologica, 82 (2011)

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“Universitetsmuseenes Fotoportal,” 2013.  http://www.unimus.no/foto/

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Walton Rogers, P. "Textiles, Cordage and Raw Fiber from 16-22 Coppergate,” The Archaeology of York Volume 17: The Small Finds. 1989.

Walton Rogers, P. "Textile Production at 16-22 Coppergate." The Archaeology of York Volume 17: The Small Finds.  1997.

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Often people ask me how to improve upon their wardrobe or over all look.  There are a million individual responses, but I think one of the most universal things one can do is to eye each component critically and ascertain exactly how "common" it might have been in period.  In my article about Viking age plaids, I talk about how small the checks were and how narrow the stripes.  What is also key about it is that in all of the materials I have, I could only find those few references.  Certainly they used this cloth, but it does not appear to have been common practice when compared to the overall number of finds.

Another example of this is in the use of tablet weaving.  In the article "Tablet Weaving on Reconstructed Viking Age Garments – and a Method to Optimise the Realism of Reconstructed Garments," by Lise Raeder Knudsen (from the book Refashioning Viking Age Garments. SAXO-Institute, University of Copenhagen), the author has a chart that shows the prevalence of tablet weaving in graves from different time periods.  During the Migration era, it ranged from 20-30% of graves in various parts of Scandinavia, but during the Viking age less than 5% of graves have evidence of this practice.  

What I take away from that is that this form of trim should be used sparingly, if at all.  Not every edge of a kit should have it, and perhaps it should be used only for high status personas.  If I use a tablet woven band, which would have been rare, then I would perhaps not also use plaid in the same kit (another less common item).

Another, earlier example of trends, is in this fantastic article on early cloth by Karina Grömer.  Textile Materials and Techniques in Central Europe in the 2nd and 1st Millennia BC.  

In this she has a fantastic chart showing how common things such as weave structure, use a dye, plaids and embroidery are.  They are displayed as being important techniques of the period down to single evidences.  It generates fantastic food for thought for the reenactor.

Those who have taken my Viking Age textiles classes know that I love to talk about scale.  Things like how tiny plaids were or how tiny the diamonds in diamond twill were.  The cloth used by high status individuals was quite fine.  It is, however, very hard to find broken diamond twill at all, let alone in a fine cloth.

Well, someone is stepping up to the plate and offering some BEAUTIFUL fabric to reenactors.  You can go directly to the Facebook post from this link, and I included images below.  https://www.facebook.com/permalink.php?story_fbid=401269506889989&id=100010208285904

 I have friends who joke about me counting threads in cloth.  I can readily laugh with them about it because textiles are a passion for me.  In part, because the historic construction of cloth fascinates me, but in part also because this is one of the few facets of Viking costume for which we have a definitive model.  Most of us who recreate these ancient bits of clothing know that we do so with great limitations regarding what patterning, cut and construction was used (particularly when it comes to women's dress).  There is always a great deal of guesswork involved on part of the costumer.

The cloth itself, however, we have thousands of examples of.  We know what this cloth looked like, we can see, even today, the texture and quality of textiles that the early Norse women crafted.  My patterning of garments is largely guesswork, but the cloth itself I can at least analyze and try to attempt to find textiles that bear similar visual qualities, including thread count.  Of course, one can bring up the argument that there are still faults with this (such as wrong breed of sheep or improper width of yarn leading to a more dense or loose cloth than that of a specific period example).  I still believe that studying the fabric yields us a wealth of information about dress in the past and can help us better reach the goal of more faithfully reproducing it.

One of the hardest things that I had to overcome (and I have mentioned this in past entries), is that notion that the Viking Era Norse were barbarians, that their craft was crude and clumsy.  While that might be true in some areas, the wealth of extant textiles does not bear this out.  There were fabrics, of wool, that had thread counts in excess of 150 threads per inch in the warp.  That cloth was exceptionally fine, even by today's standard.  A person of some status, who wore metal brooches and a string of beads, certainly did not garb herself in cloth as coarse as burlap.

Breaking those stereotypes should not stop with the fabric.  Another example (again, something that I have discussed at length in this forum, in online groups and in my classes) is that other elements could, perhaps, reflect the same sort of refinement and quality as did the cloth.

Long have I pondered how the large, open, and often poorly wrought (I have too many examples of this on my own costume) Herringbone Stitch has made itself so prevalent in Viking costume. 

I think part of this, has to do with some modern mentality of equating over-embellished design elements with wealth and status.  We love to see miles of trim or stitching on costume, and see it as a perfected work, rather than one that is over-wrought.  Interesting, I think, given that one of the staples of a modern woman's wardrobe is the rather understated, but always elegant, "Little Black Dress".  Simplicity can often speak volumes in the modern wardrobe, but we often bypass that concept in costuming because it, like the concept of fine wool fabric, does not fit with our own internal visualization of the past.

To look again at the scant evidence for the Herringbone stitch, see below:

• Hedeby harbor has a textile fragment that is hemmed using a herringbone stitch.  However, the herringbone is over the edge of the hem, and hence, that the part of the stitch we consider decorative was on the inside of the garment, with what would look like parallel rows of running stitch on the outside.  (As described by Inga Hagg)
• The find 6-8 Pavement at York has a fragment of a hemmed garment that is worked in Herringbone.  As with the Hedeby find, the herringbone is on the inside of the garment.  (Cordage and Fiber from 16-22 Coppergate, by Penelope Walton Rogers)
• The Mammen cushion has a complex variant of very closely worked herringbone over a seam (you can see that here http://www.cs.vassar.edu/~capriest/vikembroid.html).

• The Skjoldehamn tunic has a stitch similar to that used at Mammen at the neckline.  The issue with this one is that this find may or may not even be Viking and if it is, it seems to reflect a very different type of fashion than we find further south and that alone makes me leery of using it as a basis for embellishment on a Viking kit without further substantiating evidence.  Beyond that, the tunic itself is dated post-Viking era.  As with Mammen, this stitch is still much more narrow than reenactors use, and, again, it is more filled in.  (http://www.ceilingpress.com/Resources/Nye%20tanker%20om%20Skjoldehamnfunnet.pdf )

Breaking the Myth

So where did we go wrong with this?

I think the first fault lies in our own taste.  In our own desire to make something "rustic" that fits in with our own misconceptions of the capabilities of these people, we opt for things that fit in with this ideal, but also that are simple enough for anyone to add to their attire.  We also have this concept that "more stuff" means higher status.

The second issue is with the evidence, or rather, our misinterpretation of it.  One of the most circulated articles online is one entitled "Viking Embroidery" by Mistress Thora Sharptooth.  She has been a powerful inspiration in the SCA for digging deeper into Viking costume and textiles.  She has a series of works posted on-line that I think most of us would give credit as the best aids we had when starting out.  In her embroidery work there is a paragraph concerning the ornamentation of seams.

I feel the need to further elaborate on the statements contained in this measure, and help to provide context (as it is researching these items that helped me to better trace the origins of the myth).

1. Sutton Hoo - The author used this as a way to show possible evidence of a practice in Europe.  Note though, that this is not evidence of Vikings doing this (it is not Norse and it is too early).
2. Oseberg - The ring motif was used on a garment from the grave, but it does not, to me, appear to follow along a structural seam.  Perhaps it followed the edge of a neckline?  It is very unlikely that this followed something like the vertical seam of an aprondress (and even so, it is entirely unlike a herringbone stitch, in both form an execution for it to be considered valid evidence of that practice).  The rings are delicate and well formed, not something I would class in the same category with an oversized herringbone stitch.  I will note here that there is another small sample of embroidery from this grave that looks as though it could have followed a seam edge (or not), but it looks to be more akin to the type of work used at Mammen as it appears part of a larger decorative effort.  Regardless, this item again, does not cover a seam, but might have followed a line of the garment if the shape of the fragment represents a shaped piece of cloth (rather than something that degraded into this shape over time).
3. Hedeby and Birka - mentions cord and braid applied over a seam.  Unfortunately, I cannot actually find anything that really shows cord applied over a joining seam.  Rather, I have cataloged a number of uses of cord, braid or stitching used at the edges of a garment (where it can also serve an additional functional purpose of saving the edges from wear). The closest thing here that I see to our "seam embellishments" would be the braid laid over the darts at Hedeby. Once again, these are very different treatments than a herringbone worked over a joining seam (or on the outside of a garment in any fashion).  The edge treatments can all be found at the site here.  http://awanderingelf.weebly.com/blog-my-journey/viking-clothing-a-deeper-look-at-edges
4. Mammen cushion - Finally, we see an actual seam treatment from the Viking age.  This find is somewhat contested, as some researchers believe it to be an import (perhaps Saxon and from the same tradition as the Sutton Hoo cushion), while others see it as a local product.  There are also small hats from the Netherlands that have similar stitching that are dated to the same time period.  It has also been suggested that these hats might also be imported goods from the British Isles.
   

Context

Putting the evidence into context is of paramount importance.  Understanding something being referenced in that article is not necessarily proof that all of our notions of "seam embellishments" are documentable.  It is absolutely not documentation that a standard Herringbone, or catch stitch, was ever used in such a manner either.

Looking deeper at the sources and meanings of each item is valuable as we move beyond beginner and progress on a journey as a costumer who is attempting to recreate the past. 

My own opinion is that seams were likely not embellished.  Not only due to lack of archaeological proof, but because of the time it would take to craft something that would make reuse of a textile less likely.  It would be hard to take in that garment if it were so embellished.  I often also see people citing that it "reinforces" the seams.  Why then would you need to reinforce the seam of an aprondress (a garment that Hagg describes as only "slightly fitted"), when you are not taking time to sew that stitch around an armhole of a dress, or down the seam in the back of the sleeve at the elbow.  Both of those areas are far more likely to break from stress than a side seam of a slightly fitted dress.  Why not instead use these complex stitches (and the stitch from Mammen is indeed time consuming) on a functional textile such as the cushion cover that you will not need to alter, and that might possibly need the strength from the applied needlework?

Scale

And finally, I need to mention Scale, because I think a lack of understanding regarding scale is one of the main contributors to the reenactorism of "decorative herringbone".  As I mentioned above, the only thing close to the reenactor's use of herringbone is the Mammen cushion cover.  It is important to view that piece in proper perspective.

What we typically see of this find is the diagram in the lower right corner.  This usually appears on our screen at a size of about a half an inch wide.  The weave of the needlework for the diagram is open, to better show how the stitches interlace.  What many people have not seen, is the actual photos of the cushion, which I have included here.  Note that the stitch is tightly worked, with no negative space visible to the eye.  In fact, it looks at first like applied braid.  And perhaps the most important thing here is to consider the scale of the piece.  That line of braid is a mere 3mm wide.

I think the single biggest perpetrator of the "herringbone seam embellishment" myth is a misunderstanding of that diagram (or rather, lack of understanding about its context).  If indeed you were to opt to use this type of stitching, I think the only credible way to do so would be to apply it in the same manner of the original.  While I personally do not think it would have been used over a dress seam, I can at least understand where the tradition stands historically and it reads as something that might be plausible for the Viking age.

I recently finished my first pleated-front aprondress.  I made this garment because Grave C27997 from Kaupang had layered smokkrs (aprondresses), with the innermost layer being a pleated garment.  (Ingstad, 162)  I love the look of the pleated dress layered under my handwoven, unpleated dress, but also decided that I very much like the garment on its own as well.

This version was made from lightweight linen, with the idea of being able to wear the garments layered even in warmer weather.  The cutting layout I chose was quite simple and produced a garment that has plenty of room for movement, while not giving too much volume to the hemline.  I added a bit of tailoring to the top of the side gores, but this is sill a loose, comfortable garment.  After making my dress, and wearing it, I realized there is s something exceptionally simple and functional about these pleated garments.  Pleats would be the absolute simplest manner of taking in a dress that is now too large, or letting out one in which you might need more room. 

Hilde Thunem has written rather extensively about the Kostrup dress, and her article can be found here: http://urd.priv.no/viking/kostrup.html  I will not reiterate her evidence in my piece, but intend to only add my thoughts on pleating that I see used in recreations, and what makes sense to me and what does not.

Before crafting my pleats I did some experimentation to get the size of the pleats correct.  Even though my dress is linen, I did experiment as well with wool.  I also did some research on my own on the extant pleated smokkrs from Kaupang, Kostrup and Vangsnes. 

The dress at Kaupang had pleats that were 4-5mm deep and was made from fine broken diamond twill (approx 88 threads per inch in the warp and 38 in the weft).  This textile is highly fragmented. 

Vangsnes B5265 has a larger fragment of pleated fabric as can be seen in the image below.  This was a wool tabby that had pleats 2-3mm deep.

Kostrup has the most compelling fragments and Hilde Thunem has the best images of those here:  http://urd.priv.no/viking/kostrup.html  That garment, like Vangsnes, was also a wool tabby.  The thread count is approximately 66 threads per inch in the warp and 25 in the weft.  The pleats there, according to Hilde Thunem, are 2-3 mm deep and 3 mm wide.  There is not enough left of the fabric to let us know how far down the pleats ran.

AnoThe Problem with Pleats

None of these dresses give much in the way of clues about how the pleats were crafted or secured. Things we do know are:

• There is no evidence of thread or stitching holding the pleats.
• There is no evidence of any sort of band sewn to the top or back of the pleats to let them keep their shape.
• There is lack of noticeable wear on the pleats and the fabric still has visible weave and texture.
• Two of the pleated fragments are hemmed at the top before pleating.
• The pleats are very narrow (2-5mm across all three samples).  Kostrup and Vangsnes are clearly stacked closely together and do not appear to lay flat.

Using Thread to Draw the Pleats
One theory, suggested by Rasmussen and Lønborg is that a linen thread was used to draw up and secure the pleats.  While no thread remains, linen might well have degraded in the grave leaving little or no trace.  Further, if indeed the garment was made in this manner it makes sense that a thread used for that purpose be of linen, rather than wool as wool would try to stick to itself and would catch making it difficult to form the pleats.  Linen, especially if waxed, glides though wool fabric easily.

The problem I have with this is after experimenting with this is that those pleats have a tendency to shift along the string with wear (unless they are very compact to begin with).  It is also very easy to break the the pleating thread or create a small pull or hole in the ground fabric.  However, it would be a fairly quick way to make the pleats and to secure them.

Steaming the Pleats
Quite a few people in online forums have have suggested that the pleats were set by steaming, causing the wool fabric to felt, thereby holding the pleats.  While steam can definitely be used to help set a pleat, it would not felt a textile to an extent that it would hold the shape of the pleats during wear at the edge of a garment (not and still have the individual threads in the weave still be plainly visible).

What do I mean by this?  If you make a wool skirt, create pleats and set them into a waistband and then steam it, those pleats will last some time.  However, without the waistband there, they will absolutely not hold shape to the waist, or in the case of an aprondress, hold shape at the bust.  The only way to get the pleats to maintain that shape would be to take the felting process much further than the evidence shows us as you can still see the weave in the cloth on these finds.  Even if one thought the garment was felted, I do not think there is enough felting to maintain shape without some other form of structural support.

Another option for steaming would be a more loose garment.  However, over time the weight of the wool itself would pull the pleats open, possibly in a sagging U shape to some extent.

Weaving/Steaming the Pleats
Another, more recent theory, suggested by Nille Glaesel is that the pleated portion of the dress is created on the loom.  The idea is that while weaving the dress fabric an additional linen weft is inserted periodically and then drawn together after weaving to create the pleats.  The textile is then steamed to set the the pleats and the strings are removed.  The problem with this is the same as I mentioned above.  The pleats are still not capable of holding shape at the bust.  Nille had to add a band to secure hers.  (Further, as a weaver, I find this far more tedious of a process than simply drawing the pleats on a thread after the garment is crafted.)

Bands at the Top or Behind
I see no clear evidence of a band sewn to the top of the garment, or even from the back, to keep the pleats from stretching open with wear though Nille Glaesel believes that blue linen found in the grave served that purpose.  My issue with this theory is that the reasoning behind weaving the pleats in to begin with is that there were no threads or holes left from a drawing thread or stabilizing thread.  Yet an assumption is being made that all of the threads holding this band on have since disappeared. 

Stabilizing Stitch
While there is no more evidence of this stitch than of the drawing thread, this is a practical solution that, to me, is at least plausible.  A careful seamstress could sew in the drawing thread without piercing the yarn of the textile (or, at least, without often doing it).  Likewise, Stitches added from behind could penetrate the web of the textile, without impaling individual weaving threads.  While I think it unlikely that all of this linen yarn would disappear in the grave, I find it far more likely than there being an entire band, plus its stitching, that disintegrated over time.

This is the solution I ended up using (and it is the same conclusion that others have come to as well).  We do not have the evidence to say that it was definitively done in this manner, but I feel that it is still more than plausible (and more plausible than some other possible solutions). 

I chose to use a method similar to that used on later Norwegian clothing where the pleats are drawn up on a thread, and whip stitched in place.

Unfortunately, I have seen no evidence for any of these types of pleats on any Viking garments.  (If you have seen something like this, I would love to see the sources.  I have looked through my collections of materials to no avail.)  While I do recognize that the "Swedish Poofy Pants" likely had some sort of pleating at the waist, we do not what what form that pleating took.  It might well have also been some sort of very tiny pleats or gathers.

I have to think that sometimes modern ideals guide these choices.  I know that there was a time that I never would have worn a pleated front dress (which looks to me very much like a maternity gown), preferring instead garments that were more tailored and flattering to a modern eye. 

Another reason that might prompt these choices is the wrong choice of fabric (and sometimes, this is unavoidable, as the right wools are frequently difficult to obtain).  The thread counts in the extant garments are very high.  These were fine wool textiles.  What we often buy as reenactors are much more coarse, and often our cloth also often has a brushed surface.  Thick fulled fabric will produce very bulky pleats that would appear quite off if they could even form a small enough pleat at all.  The bulk produced by these textiles can be very off-putting to many.  The fabrics to sometimes tend to conform nicely as deep, flat pleats, and that might be the reasoning behind some choices.


I plan to make another pleated dress out of a mid-weight linen for Pennsic and then eventually a wool one.  I enjoy the dress I made more than I thought I would and hope to explore additional possibilities for both the pleating and over all construction of the dress with each iteration.

References:

Blindheim, Charlotte. Kaupang-funnene, bind II, (University of Oslo), 1999.

Glaesel, Nille.  "The Kostrup Aprondress", 2015. 

Holm-Olsen, Inger Marie. “Noen gravfunn fra Vestlandet som kaster lys over vikingtidens kvinnedrakt”, Viking, 39, 1976.

Ingstad, Anne Stein.  “Two Women’s Graves with Textiles from Kaupang,” Universitetets Oldsaksamling 150 år, Jubileumsårbok, 1979

Rasmussen, Liisa and Lønborg, Bjarne. Dragtrester i grav ACQ, Køstrup, 1993.

Thunem, Hilde.  "Viking Women: Aprondress."  January 2011. http://urd.priv.no/viking/smokkr.html

Thunem, Hilde. "The aprondress from Kostrup (grave ACQ)."  April 2015.  http://urd.priv.no/viking/kostrup.html

Vedeler, Marianne, ‘Pleated Fragments of Clothing from Norway’, NESAT VIII, 1997.