fabric
Keaira had never understood why muslin was considered the fabric of the poor. It was light upon the skin, flowing, and free-moving. The crisp white of the undyed cloth looked crystalline against the dark shoulders of the country girls and made the pale skin of the city ladies even whiter to the eye. Flushed with color, it could make even the most homely face attractive.
She had seen silk, felt it against her skin. It was sleek and strong–most likely why the ladies of the courts preferred it–but it became stifling and sticky while moving about. Velvet was far too heavy for daily wear, and satin was only for the rich. Muslin, on the other hand, was perfect– at least in her own opinion.
”‘Ira, you can stare at the fabric after you’ve sewn the dress.” The grey-eyed girl started from her thoughts at her mother’s scolding, turning to face the older woman with an embarrassed smile. Her mother simply rolled her eyes and tried to stifle a quirk of the lips.
“Sorry, Mama. I’ll try to finish before the stones are cast.”
“You do that, child.”
Turning back to her work, Keaira pushed a needle through the white cloth. It truly was beautiful.
~ by eeratka on January 21, 2007.
Posted in Celtic Winds, Fiction, Stories, Writing
Hey,
Hmm, I have always mused about that when looking at the ridicule prices some jeans reach in store. 50 years ago, the jeans were the clothes of the miners and farmers (endurance and low cost were perfect for them), and that blue dye they have is the cheapest dye in the whole market (the reason of behind why jeans wash out so much more than other clothes). Fashion, I guess, is the answer to that musing, and yet I find much greater clothes in articles that are not on vogue…
On the story, it was nicely written. An easy read, that brings a small smile to the face. Now, however, I wonder if this is the same girl as in your last story? If so, nice touch. ^^
Keep on the good work,
- César