Velvet (noun): 1: a clothing and upholstery fabric (as of silk, rayon, or wool) characterized by a short soft dense warp pile; 2a: something suggesting velvet; b: a characteristic (such as softness or smoothness) of velvet; 3: the soft vascular skin that envelops and nourishes the developing antlers of deer; 4a: the winnings of a player in a gambling game; b: a profit or gain beyond ordinary expectation
MALVOLIO: ”Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown; having come from a day-bed, where I have left Olivia sleeping…” (Twelfth Night)
In the Elizabethan era, Velvets were imported from Italy. Similar to silks, they indicated luxury and status, and there were rigid laws (called sumptuary laws) in place about who and who could not wear velvet.
In “Clothing in Elizabethan England,” Liza Picard writes: “Only earls could wear cloth of gold, or purple silk. No one under the degree of knight was allowed silk ‘netherstocks’ (long stockings) or velvet outer garments. A knight’s eldest son could wear velvet doublets and hose, but his younger brothers couldn’t. A baron’s eldest son’s wife could wear gold or silver lace, forbidden to women below her in the pecking order.”
Men’s hats were very popular, and the most popular material for making them was velvet.
“The Fabric’s The Thing: Literal and Figurative References to Textiles in Selected Plays of William Shakespeare“ by Nancy J. Owens and Alan C. Harris gives us a bit of insight into different types of velvet and what was most valued: “Velvet, trimmed or patterned, piled or pressed, cut or uncut was the favored material for fashionable styles...In line with our comments on kersey and silk above, velvet was a cloth of the nobility and the wealthy…In essence, Vincentio asks: Are you simply in a disguise feigning wealth or is there something of greater meaning or substance?” Feigning wealth was a huge concern during this time. The sumptuary laws targeted people who were dressing above their station, and many luxury fabrics were either given as gifts or traded in illegal settings, like brothels.
In “‘Rich like a Lady’: Cross-Class Dressing in the Brothels and Theaters of Early Modern London,” Cristine M. Varholy writes that for women, dressing across classes, otherwise known as “cross-class dressing” (which was only permitted in the context of the theatre, interestingly) could be dangerous for real women: “Female cross-class dressing was perceived as a telltale sign of whoredome. In the context of the brothel and also within non-commercial sexual relationships, the practice was used to produce sexual experiences enhanced by imaginative play and variety.” Cross-class dressing could be sexualized due to the forbidden nature of some fabrics, including velvet and silk. Through fabrics like velvet,Varholy explores the connections between the early modern theatre and the early modern bedroom. She writes that cross-class dressing was “an opportunity for a female figure to recreate herself,” which could be pleasing to both spectators and herself.
In “From Gay to Queer—Or, Wasn’t Fashion Always Already a Very Queer Thing?” Annamarie Vänskä writes about the ways that queer people historical have had to speak about, or rather around, their sexualities:“Gays and lesbians have indeed learned to speak about their sexuality by not naming it directly, but through their clothing, style, and behavioral signifiers. It is noteworthy that the modern notion of homosexuality coincides with the rise of ideas about the modern society as a society of appearances, and clothing as a language-like institution from which individual styles are differentiated as parole.” This shows us that appearances, including fabric and fashion, are charged subjects in queer communities and in early modern England—it’s all about communicating the unspoken.
ADDITIONAL INSTANCES OF VELVET IN SHAKESPEARE:
ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a patch of
velvet on's face: whether there be a scar under't
or no, the velvet knows; but 'tis a goodly patch of
velvet: his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a
half, but his right cheek is worn bare.
AS YOU LIKE IT
O, yes, into a thousand similes.
First, for his weeping into the needless stream:
'Poor deer,' quoth he 'thou mak'st a testament
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more
To that which had too much.' Then, being there alone,
Left and abandoned of his velvet friends:
'Tis right'; quoth he 'thus misery doth part
The flux of company.' Anon, a careless herd,
Full of the pasture, jumps along by him
And never stays to greet him.
HENRY IV, PART I
Come, shelter, shelter: I have removed Falstaff's
horse, and he frets like a gummed velvet.
LOVE’S LABOURS LOST
A woman, that is like a German clock,
Still a-repairing, ever out of frame,
And never going aright, being a watch,
But being watch'd that it may still go right!
Nay, to be perjured, which is worst of all;
And, among three, to love the worst of all;
A wightly wanton with a velvet brow,
With two pitch-balls stuck in her face for eyes;
Ay, and by heaven, one that will do the deed
Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard:
And I to sigh for her! to watch for her!
To pray for her! Go to; it is a plague
That Cupid will impose for my neglect
Of his almighty dreadful little might.
Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue and groan:
Some men must love my lady and some Joan.
LOVER’S COMPLAINT
'Small show of man was yet upon his chin;
His phoenix down began but to appear
Like unshorn velvet on that termless skin
Whose bare out-bragg'd the web it seem'd to wear:
Yet show'd his visage by that cost more dear;
And nice affections wavering stood in doubt
If best were as it was, or best without.
PASSIONATE PILGRIM
On a day, alack the day!
Love, whose month was ever May,
Spied a blossom passing fair,
Playing in the wanton air:
Through the velvet leaves the wind
All unseen, gan passage find;
That the lover, sick to death,
Wish'd himself the heaven's breath,
'Air,' quoth he, 'thy cheeks may blow;
Air, would I might triumph so!
TWELVTH NIGHT
Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet
gown; having come from a day-bed, where I have left
Olivia sleeping,—
WINTER’S TALE
No, in good earnest.
How sometimes nature will betray its folly,
Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime
To harder bosoms! Looking on the lines
Of my boy's face, methoughts I did recoil
Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreech'd,
In my green velvet coat, my dagger muzzled,
Lest it should bite its master, and so prove,
As ornaments oft do, too dangerous:
How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,
This squash, this gentleman. Mine honest friend,
Will you take eggs for money?
HENRY IV, PART 1
Not yours, in good sooth! Heart! you swear like a
comfit-maker's wife. 'Not you, in good sooth,' and
'as true as I live,' and 'as God shall mend me,' and
'as sure as day,'
And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths,
As if thou never walk'st further than Finsbury.
Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art,
A good mouth-filling oath, and leave 'in sooth,'
And such protest of pepper-gingerbread,
To velvet-guards and Sunday-citizens.
Come, sing.
HENRY
Therefore doth heaven divide
The state of man in divers functions,
Setting endeavour in continual motion;
To which is fixed, as an aim or butt,
Obedience: for so work the honey-bees,
Creatures that by a rule in nature teach
The act of order to a peopled kingdom.
They have a king and officers of sorts;
Where some, like magistrates, correct at home,
Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad,
Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings,
Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds,
Which pillage they with merry march bring home
To the tent-royal of their emperor;
Who, busied in his majesty, surveys
The singing masons building roofs of gold,
The civil citizens kneading up the honey,
The poor mechanic porters crowding in
Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate,
The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum,
Delivering o'er to executors pale
The lazy yawning drone.
LOVE’S LABOUR’S LOST
On a day—alack the day!—
Love, whose month is ever May,
Spied a blossom passing fair
Playing in the wanton air:
Through the velvet leaves the wind,
All unseen, can passage find;
That the lover, sick to death,
Wish himself the heaven's breath.
Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow;
Air, would I might triumph so!
MEASURE FOR MEASURE
I grant; as there may between the lists and the
velvet. Thou art the list.
MEASURE FOR MEASURE
And thou the velvet: thou art good velvet; thou'rt
a three-piled piece, I warrant thee: I had as lief
be a list of an English kersey as be piled, as thou
art piled, for a French velvet. Do I speak
feelingly now?
TAMING OF THE SHREW
Why, this was moulded on a porringer;
A velvet dish. Fie, fie! 'tis lewd and filthy;
Why, 'tis a cockle or a walnut-shell,
A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap.
Away with it. Come, let me have a bigger.
TAMING OF THE SHREW
What am I, sir? Nay, what are you, sir? O immortal gods!
O fine villain! A silken doublet, a velvet hose, a scarlet cloak,
and a copatain hat! O, I am undone! I am undone! While I play the
good husband at home, my son and my servant spend all at the
university.