dogs for your drapes

Courtesy of the Indianapolis Museum of Art at Newfields

Considering how alertly these hunting dogs leap upon the boars and hinds in this panel, I'm surprised at how calm the leopards appear.  The object's page at the Indianapolis Museum of Art doesn't indicate where it was made; were leopards part of the scenery there, or did a European workshop include them to show the valor of the patron's hounds? This textile was made circa 1600, and still retains luscious color. 

silken rabbits

www.metmuseum.org
Gift of Robert Hatfield Ellsworth, in memory of Jean E. Mailey, 1994

This Ming Dynasty textile (China, late 16th - early 17th century) shows rabbits gamboling about in the clouds. Made of silk gauze with silk and gold threads, it's not only luxurious but fortunate: rabbits brought all sorts of good things, and were companions of the ageless Moon Goddess.

off the cuff

Drawing, Design for Embroidery, Gentleman's Waistcoat Pocket, ca. 1785;
Designed by Fabrique de Saint Ruf ; France; 18.4 × 31.3 cm (7 1/4 × 12 5/16 in.);
Gift of Eleanor and Sarah Hewitt; 1920-36-324 http://cprhw.tt/o/2BkT6/

France, 1785:  this could have been hand-embroidered on your waistcoat, and you could have enjoyed it for a season or two before you ordered one or two or six new fashion-forward garments.  Meanwhile, the political dynamic in France was shifting toward the Terror; in six years Louis XVI would be beheaded.  So much for your leisurely aristocratic days at the hunt, and for lushly decorated clothes, probably left behind when you bailed to England.

cat helps keep you clean

Child's Bib, 19th century; cotton; H x W: 59.9 x 45.3 cm (23 9/16 x 17 13/16 in.); 1949-39-1
collection.cooperhewitt.org

This lyrical design, in which the cat is practically one of the surrounding flowers, is resist printed on the fabric of this 19th-century child's bib.

dogs in the purple

j mankin on pixabay CC:0

Purple:  we grow up in the West thinking of it as a royal color, though I don't think it shows up much in any court these days.  Even so, no one need explain what they mean when they refer to someone as "born in the purple" - it speaks of status and privilege.  So how funny is it that the mythology of this color includes a dog as the major player?  In Phoenician lore, the city of Tyre had a patron god called Melqart; Melqart had a mistress named Tyros, and Tyros had a dog.  One day Tyros and her dog strolled the beach, where molluscs were strewn.  The dog chewed up some of these fishy treats and ended up with a purple face.  It's this tale that's referred to in this letter of around 520 C.E., in which a palace official has to take a textile supplier to task. 

a saint bernard for showing off

Rug - Saint Bernard dog, circa 1885, Wellington, by Mary Hannah Tyer.
Bequest of Mrs Mary H. Quin, 1956. CC BY-NC-ND 4.0. Te Papa (PC000250/1)

Be sure to click on the image above and see if you can get a better look at this rug.  Meticulously crafted in 1885, it has a high level of detail - the dog even has a glass bead for its eye.  You won't be surprised that this lovely object was called out for special praise at the 1885 New Zealand Industrial Exhibition.  You may be surprised that this was crafted by a teenager: 15-year-old Mary Tyer.
There's an interesting larger history about this rug; its creation was encouraged by a government that believed in the creativity of New Zealanders both inside and outside the home.  Read an enjoyable essay on Mary, her rug, and the Industrial Exhibition at Te Papa Tongarewa (Museum of New Zealand) here.

dog cosy

Egg Cosy (England), ca. 1900; silk and linen on linen foundation;
H x W: 9 x 7.5 cm (3 9/16 x 2 15/16 in.); Gift of Sabina Gathedral; 1978-110-1

This lazy Sunday I'm bringing you a dog-headed egg cosy from the collections of the Cooper-Hewitt.  Tell me, does anyone still have boiled eggs in the morning and have they cozies for them?  Is this a lost craft/practice?  I'm interested in hearing from you.
Here's the link to the record for this object: http://cprhw.tt/o/2CMuv/

a beaded field

The Elizabeth Day McCormick Collection www.mfa.org

Crafted in France around 1715, this pocketbook is known by the eagle and sun on its obverse side: "Device of Louis XIV." Louis XIV was the Sun King, but I see just as much radiance in the reverse side I've shown here.  This lush natural scene is all done in strung-together glass beads.  Do you see the dog at hunt over on the left?  Here's an enhance, with bonus squirrel:

sample dogs

Image courtesy of York Museums Trust :: http://yorkmuseumstrust.org.uk :: CC BY-SA 4.0

1844, England: Emma Stead, age 12, works away on her sewing practice, creating this gorgeous sampler in colored wools on linen.

doghance!

Perhaps these were the family dogs.  Excellent work.  I certainly couldn't stitch so finely.
To learn more about samplers, try this article at the Victoria & Albert Museum's website.

wrapped in nightingales?

gift of W. T. Sesnon (M.55.6) www.lacma.org

Perhaps this textile wouldn't be so comfortable for a nap or for loungewear, as it contains metallic threads along its silk ones.  Even so, looking at this 17th-century Iranian textile brings soothing thoughts of perfumed gardens and birdsong, as if you could drape it around yourself and be transported there.  I believe this to be a variant of a pattern popular in its time, the "rose and nightingale" motif (gul-o-bul-bul), which symbolized the union of the lover and the beloved.  I know the birds look a lot like sun conures, but take a peek at this print from the Met for a gul-o-bul-bul motif that does essentially look a lot like this.  The Met also has an informative article about Iranian textiles of this period that I found interesting.

a dog in stitches

Embroidery, 1800s, New Zealand, maker unknown. Gift of Adrienne Stonyer, 1981. Te Papa (PC002029)

A cushion?  A seat panel?  Part of a screen?  We'll never know; the hands that finished this goofy boy and his ring of roses (brown ones, which are a tad depressing) didn't get around to the background.  This item is part of the collections of Te Papa Tongarewa, the Museum of New Zealand, and dates from the 1800s.  It may have been a precolored design on the canvas, a craft kit type which became popular in the second half of the century.

a kennel fit for a queen's dog

The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Gift of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Wrightsman, 1971.
www.metmuseum.org. (OASC)

When you are the Queen of France, you can ask master furniture designers to whip up a tasteful dog kennel for you.  Claude Sené (French, 1724-1792) did just that for Marie Antoinette, or rather one of her dogs, and here you see the resulting height of canine luxury circa 1775-80.  Velvet outside, striped silk inside, and designed in the Neoclassical style popular at the time (the carved Greek keys are a tipoff), it's the ancien regime take on today's designer purse + dog combo.
Only imagine what a cat would do to this lovely soft, scratchable surface.  I say this with love.

dog silk

Gift of Mr. and Mrs. H. O. Havemeyer, 1896
www.metmuseum.org (OASC)

Imagine a whole dress of this material:  gray silk puppies for yards and yards.  This textile dates from Edo-era Japan, particularly the 18th or 19th century, which I think is borne out in the appealing netsuke-like roundness of their heads and bodies.  The Edo period saw a number of new artistic influences in Japanese culture combined with tight social and class rules, some of which regarded what you could and couldn't wear in the way of luxury fabrics.  I'm betting this is one of the results: if you're not allowed to wear richly patterned brocades, but you can wear woven silk, of course you're going to encourage attractive and clever patterns.

cat on an unclawed cover

“York Museums Trust Online Collection,” OpenGLAM Open Collections, accessed April 27, 2015, http://opencollections.okfn.org/items/show/123. License CC BY-SA 

Right now I have a crush on the York Museums Trust.  I'm finding the sort of items there I don't normally get to share, such as yesterday's stirrup cup and today's cushion cover - domestic things that a wider variety of people might have.  This cushion cover was cross stitched in wool around 1830-1845 on a linen-lined canvas backing.  The flowers and leaves are so stylized as to almost look like flags to me when first I saw them, but if I had to sit and stitch my own cushions, assuredly the result would be nowhere near as appealing.