Rule 2

Or how to not chase people away from your hobby.

Rule 1: No unexpected hospital trips or emergency medical care. This is not the rule we’re talking about, but I knew if I didn’t say what it was I’d bet a bunch of folks asking.

Rule 2 (the one we care about in this post): Don’t be an asshole.

Now there are as many examples of assholery as there are people in any hobby. There are people who will shame anyone who knits with acrylic yarn, regardless of reason for the choice, there are folks who will chase other people out of any kind of gaming for reasons I do not comprehend, people for whom no outfit will be authentic enough. I could go on forever. But I won’t because we can all name examples.

Folks? All this behavior does is chase people away from something you love, which ultimately causes it to die. It doesn’t make you look impressive (though you do leave an Impression when you do it), it doesn’t help the person you’re doing it to, and it sure as hell doesn’t make your hobby better.

I will admit, there is one particular bit of rule 2 failure that angers me more than others. Garb and/or kit shaming. I can’t help it, I’m a textile nerd. I’m a textile process nerd. The how is just as important as the what when it comes to clothing for me. You all know that, you’ve read this blog before, you’ve seen what I make and how I make it. I’ll talk at you for hours about string and cloth.

That being said? Telling someone where their clothing isn’t Good Enough by your standards, when they had not asked for your input, is rude as fucking hell. Taking it upon yourself to critique someone else’s efforts is not educating, it is not helping them get better, it is rude. For all you know the item you’re stink eyeing is the first thing that person has ever made or bought, or is a technique they’ve never tried before. They may be proud as hell of it, and your “oh, is that cotton blend?” may be enough to discourage them from ever trying again. Don’t be that person.

They also may just be wearing something you are unfamiliar with. If you haven’t looked at Saxon, for example, it looks like generic SCA #3. So trying to give me pointers on how to up my game, or assuming I don’t know how to do something based on my shapeless over dress, is going to get you a take down of everything you have on right down to your thread count and the weave of your undergarments. Let alone how it was stitched or what it was stitched with. Certain colors that can be produced with natural dyes that we know were used in period? Read as almost offensively modern. Hot pink, bright orange, neon green, all acceptable in Viking textiles. Sometimes even together.

There are ways to encourage people to up their game, without breaking rule 2. Here are a few options:

  1. Make yourself approachable with questions.

If someone asks you how you did something, or for information, answer with excitement. Don’t respond with annoyance that the person didn’t know to begin with. Once upon a time you didn’t either.

      2. Make your knowledge available.

Teach classes, have a blog that people have the option of accessing if they want to. Join in conversations on social media sites. Offer to show people how to do the thing you’re passionate about.

3.  Make materials available.

Have extra fabric? Donate it to someone who is starting out. Bring your spare gear to practice so new people can try it out even if they’re poor. Offer to bring materials to events if someone expresses and interest. I can only weave and do what I do now because friends lent or bought me the materials to make it happen.

4. Be patient

Understand that not everyone is going to care as much as you do. They’re just not. And that’s ok. And, even if they do, they may not be able to either give as much time, money, or effort, to make it happen as you can.

Is that everything you can do? No. Do you need to do all of it? No. Teaching, for example, isn’t something everyone is up to doing. But before you make a comment on what someone is wearing ask yourself:

-Are they safe?

-Do they look comfortable?

-Did they try?

If the answer to all three is yes? Keep your thoughts to yourself unless they ask for your views. And remember “try” can be as small as a t-tunic and pajama pants, or a loose blouse and peasant skirt. Gods know sometimes high budget TV shows don’t even give us that much (I’m looking at you Vikings.), lets not ask for more accuracy from someone with an unknown yet presumably low budget, ok?

Don’t break rule 2.


A Peacock Project

Also an accountability post.

First off, what do I mean by ‘peacock project’? A peacock project is a project with no right to exist other than showing off. Much like a male peacock’s tail. There’s no reason for it to be that pretty or complex. It just is. And so here we are.

I’ve decided to weave myself (mundanely) a scarf and (SCA purposes) a veil.  I am weaving it entirely out of silk in three colors (red, blue, and silver). When I am done it is going to be iridescent in three directions depending on how you look at it. I am weaving it out of a complex looking point twill. On top of that I’m going to do lampas work.

I’m doing it in 2 months. I need to weave 1 yard per month of it to get it done. This is…not a small order. I’m starting the warp today.

The plan is to warp it in red. Then where the center patterning is add my silver warp for the lampas hedgehogs (my badge in the SCA and the animal most people associate with me). As I only have a 4 harness table loom I have to do the lampas as pick up work.

How this will need to get warped:

540 strands of red silk warp. 40 of the twill edging + floating tabby edge, followed by 460 strands in the regular diamond twill pattern, then another 40 of the twill edging plus floating tabby edge. In the middle of that nonsense there are 21 groups of 14 strands of silver for the lampas hedgehogs. Originally I’d wanted to do them in sterling, then looked at my reserves of sterling silver and realized I’d need to order more. That’s a no go, I’m not spending additional money for this. So silver silk it is.

How this is going to weave up (note the multiple steps per pick here):

  1. Lift heddles per twill pattern.
  2. Throw silver threads until running into the hedgehogs.
  3. Lower heddle.
  4. Pick out hedgehog pattern and that twill row center pattern using pick up sticks.
  5. Throw silver weft through shed created.
  6. Remove pick up stick
  7. Raise heddle for twill pattern
  8. Throw silver weft through remaining length of warp.
  9. Beat into place
  10. Throw blue weft through shed, careful not to cross the silver weft AND go over all the silver warp threads.
  11. Beat into place.

Yes. 11 individual motions per pick with the requirement that I do two different pick up patterns across 460 threads without fucking it up. For 2 yards. Admittedly there is about an inch in the beginning that is just “Lift shed, throw two wefts, beat” and an inch at the end of the same. And 4 picks per repeat of that. And the ground cloth under the hedgehogs will only be red/blue iridescent rather than red/blue/silver but this was the only way I could figure out to do it that wouldn’t require a 4th color of silk (which I do not have, again not buying things) or muddy the hedgehog by having the silver under it.

I have no reason to own a cloth like this. None. But fuck it I want something pretty. Super pretty. Stupidly complex and pretty. So I’m going to do it damnit.


On Difficulty

I’m a huge offender of this, I’m not going to pretend I’m not.

You ever have someone look at your work and tell you how beautiful it is or how comment on how complicated it must be or how they could never do something like that? And what is our default response? Certainly not ‘thank you’.

Oh it’s not hard!

Of course you could!

Oh I’ve just got more time for it!

It’s just x! (X being string, paint, swords, metal, ink, wood, whatever your art form is.)

I know when I do it I’m trying to be encouraging. Or I just don’t see it as hard because that’s how my brain works. For example, I show my husband weaving drafts where I can clearly see what the cloth will look like. It’s a graph after all, with the pattern of the cloth in the center. He looks at me like I’ve got six heads, even though he can look at the blue print and see a completed house where I see a bunch of lines and measurements. He can show me a plumbing diagram, and while I kinda get it I couldn’t follow it. Same for me showing him clothing patterns. Neither of us are dumb, we’re both visual people, it’s a matter of what we’re used to seeing.

That being said, dismissing what we do as a matter of ‘just learning’ does a disservice to people for whom it just doesn’t click. I can not paint. Full stop. I can draft a complicated clothing pattern on the fabric itself, without paper, cut it out, and have it fit. But my painting skills are blobs. I just can not use a brush. Painting is magic. When people offer to teach me (again) or tell me how I could do it if I’d just had the time, it’s frustrating. Trying makes me want to cry. I understand color theory, I know the mechanics of how it should work, there is no logical reason why I can’t. But there you have it.

There will always be people to whom what you do without apparently effort is the epitome of Magic that they will never master. No matter how much they may want to or how many times they’ve tried to pick it up. And brushing off their praise as ‘it’s just x’ isn’t helpful to anyone.

One of the hardest things for me to learn is that it is not conceited to say “thank you, this was a lot of time and effort.”

Acknowledging your skill is not bad, wrong, or rude. Even if it is something that comes naturally to you, acknowledging that it may be difficult for other people isn’t being a discouraging bad person. With that in mind may I present some alternatives?

“Wow, I could never do something like that!”

Instead of “Of course you could!” try “Have you tried before? What discouraged you that time?”

“That must have taken forever to do!”

Instead of “No, it’s super fast.” try “I can see where it looks like it, if you’re interested I can show you how it works.”

“That looks so hard.”

Instead of “It’s easy, it’s just x.” try “Thank you, it took a while for it to click.”

Here’s the super hard part. If someone says they tried to do something, and they just can’t do it? Even if its something that is easy as breathing for you? Take their word for it and gracefully accept their praise in the manner in which it is intended. If they want to try again, great! Teach them! If not? Don’t rub in that something they find impossible is something you can do without thinking.

The Black Magic of Boob Math

This is the first of a series.

Alright folks this essay is going to be as genderfree as possible. Women make and wear men’s clothing, men of a certain size also have to navigate this issue, and third gender or gender eschewing folks need clothing too. To that end I’m avoiding terms like ‘the girls’ ‘the ladies’ ect. I’m also making the conscience choice to refer to the body parts we’re navigating around as ‘boobs’. Yes ‘breast’ is the more scientifically accurate term, but that (to me at least) reads as decidedly politely-feminine in a way boobs just doesn’t. I also just like saying boob. I am a cis woman, so I’m not going to even pretend that I know best, just explaining my choices here. Feel free to substitute your favorite word of choice, gods know the internet is full of ’em.


What is ‘boob math’?

Boob math is the complex calculations needed in order to make clothing fit correctly and as intended over boobs. Whether that intent is to downplay their existence, draw attention in a flattering manner, or  just support them so you fricken back isn’t killing you after a couple hours, determines what kind of structural physics you need to do here. You’ll note that high fashion uses models with fairly straight lines, even they acknowledge boob math is hard. It’s not just as easy as throwing more fabric in the boob-zone, it’d be awesome if it was.

Today we’re going to start going over how to alter existing patterns designed for those folks without boobs to fit properly with boobs. This is the most simple kind of boob math and why we’re starting here. This will also work for adjusting patterns meant for the boob’d that don’t fit around *your* boobs. I’m assuming you are starting with a commercial pattern. I do not use them (I draft everything every time like someone who refuses to let love into their life) so my photos and such for this are all hand drawn with the shapes you’r’e looking for. Excuse the laughably terrible art.

You will need:

-Your pattern

-Paper to draft on (no special kind, you can use printer or notebook paper and tape it onto your commercial pattern if need be)

-Measuring tape

-A pencil

-Scrap paper for writing measurements on

-Comfort beverage or food of choice

Ok, so the goal here is to be as non-disruptive to the original pattern as possible for ease of sewing it. That being said there’s a bit of pattern drafting involved here. Don’t run away! It’s ok, I’m going to walk  you through how to make 2D shapes fit a 3D body. First we’re going to take measurements. I’m going to have you take measurements on both sides of your body, the beauty of pattern drafting means custom fitting and boobs are never the same size. The difficult bastards.

If you intend to wear a bra with this garment, put it on now. For each side of your body you are going to measure:

(A) -From the top center of your shoulder to nipple

(B) -From outer side center (or wherever the seam of your pattern lies) of the rib cage to nipple

(C) -STRAIGHT UP from directly under the boob to nipple (do not follow the curve, trust me)

(D) -From center top of shoulder straight down the side body to directly under the boob (do not follow the curve of the boob, you want a straight line)

(E) – Straight across the front of the boobs from nipple to nipple.

Now look at the bodice pieces for your pattern. There should be a front piece, and a piece with the arm hole cut in. Modern patterns generally give you one of each and say ‘cut 2’. You may need to make a copy and label one Left and one Right. Measurement D is how far down the pattern pieces we’re altering. Clearly mark that on each piece by measuring from the top edge (shoulder) of the pattern down.

Starting side (left) and front (right) pattern piece examples.

Grab the side pattern piece (the one with the arm hole cut out). We’re making adjustments to the front of it. Now, using measurements A, B and C you’re going basically make a triangle on the side piece of your pattern. Starting from the bottom of measurement D (so as far down the pattern as we’re adjusting), measure up C. Make a dot or a line or some mark you can see. Measure down and out from the top of the shoulder on the pattern for the length of A, adjusting the angle until the point of it lines up with measurement B straight out from the point we made by measuring C up from the bottom point of D. Make a dot or a mark at this point.

Now what you’re going to do is draw a line from the top of the shoulder to the mark made where measurements A and B meet. Then draw a curve down from that to meet the bottom of measurement D. Smooth out where the curve meets the line from the shoulder into a curving transition to avoid awkward nipple points.

Repeat this process for the other side. Grab your measuring tape again and measure how long the total curve your just made is, from shoulder, around the nipple point, down to where it meets the pattern again.

Now take your front pieces. These should be more or less rectangles since most of the fiddly bits on patterns are the side pieces. There may be a concave curve on the edge that meets your side piece, that’s fine and is useful. We’ll get to that. The measurement you just took off your side piece curve is how long the new measurement of your front piece from shoulder to point D is. The concave curve is added to avoid having odd darts and ruffles along where the front and side pieces attach on that curve. You’ll need to rough in a concave curve that matches the convex curve you made on your side piece.

Where all your measurements go. Side (left) and front (right)

Repeat this process for the other side.

Measure from the center point of one of your concave curves to the center point of the other. This needs to be AT LEAST as long as measurement E. If not you will have that dreaded button gaping boob pull situation happening. If there are no buttons or front closure then you’ll still have uncomfortable boob flattening/tugging going on.

Altered side (left) altered front (right)

WHEN YOU GO TO CUT THIS ALL OUT DO NOT FORGET TO ADD THE SEAM ALLOWANCE SPECIFIED IN YOUR ORIGINAL PATTERN TO YOUR FINAL LINES. This is the pitfall I make most often and how I end up with poorly fitting tops even though I know how to draft for boobs.

What we just walked through is basically drafting a princess seam.

Birka Gown, The Making of and Documentation

Here it is! The moment you’ve all been waiting for! And by that I mean I’m actually writing down the last week and providing you my paperwork.

So 8 days prior to Birka I decided to do the fashion show. Why not? I had a woven silk table runner (it was supposed to be something else and epic failed) that I could wear as a front panel, and the simple plan I told you about before. So without further ado, my write up:



A hand stitched blue wool dress sewn with handspun wool and using a bone sewing needle. Dress is embellished at the seams with purple, gold, and blue silk and strapped purple and gold linen and blue hand spun trim adapted from an arguably 10th century Saxon belt find.

Long form documentation:

The dress itself is commercially available wool. The thread count matches the 10th century scraps found under the brooches of “The Lady In Blue” (Ketilsstathir Iceland, uncovered in 1938) of an almost balanced weave of 11 warp threads and 10 weft threads per CM. Chemical analysis of the dress found in the burial indicates a blue dye with a lighter tablet woven band around the top. To mimic such a starting band I have chosen to leave the contrasting color selvadge along the top edge of the gown. The wool selected also follows the Icelandic convention of weaving with unplyed yarn.

The creation of a checkered pattern by alternating different colored yarns in either the warp, weft, or both, is found in early textiles wherever we have existing examples. The commercial wool forming the basis of this project follows the same pattern by having an entirely white warp and alternating pale blue and antique gold weft.

It is unconfirmed whether the textiles in the find were from a blue dyed apron with linen under dress, full gown with linen under dress, or gown with a linen lining. There is also debate as to how the gown, if it was an over gown rather than apron, was constructed.  The three common interpretations of such a gown are:

  1. A pair of rectangles, stitched together at the sides, with side panels inserted for movement, suspended from straps at the shoulders
  2. A pair of rectangles, not stitched together, suspended from straps at the shoulders.
  3. A long tube suspended from straps at the shoulders

I have chosen to create the first option as I find it the most practical for everyday wear. A pair of rectangles, unattached, would flop open. This creates a fire hazard as well as exposing more of the linen under layer to cold air, rather than keeping the torso and body core protected by the warmer wool. A long tube without any gores would need to be baggy along the top edge in order to allow freedom of movement of the legs. This creates the same draft problem as well as making it more likely to bunch and become uncomfortable under the arms. A dress tight enough to avoid armpit bunching and drafts would bind up the legs, making walking and daily work difficult.

The over dress is hand stitched using a bone needle and handspun wool thread. The thread itself has been processed from a raw Icelandic top coat, using combs rather than hand cards in order to produce a hard woolen spun thread. This matches the extant 10th century finds of Icelandinc textiles for spin style (S-spun and used as a single rather than being plyed) as well as type of wool used. The spindle used is a bottom whorl soapstone spindle, with a weight roughly matching the weight of an extant 10th century stone spindle whorl I have in my possession. I have used a stitch length found in Dublin caps of 3-5 mm.

Over dress stitches and needle

Seam Treatments:

There is little evidence for seam embellishment on extant textiles, due in part to how rarely they are found. However I have chosen to add silk herringbone stitches to the seams of the over dress due to references in period texts of rich adornment. Herringbone, being a very simple embroidery stitch, is an excellent candidate for use in seam embellishment as it is unobtrusive to the modern eye. The small stitches on the underside of the fabric also allow it to double as a seam finishing technique as it can be done as part of the period finishing practice of flat felling. This is what I have chosen to do on this gown. The use of a bone needle, rather than a modern metal needle, is carried throughout the seam treatments, back stitched hem, and strap attachment.


Seam treatment detail.

Tablet Weaving:

The straps of the dress was woven using the Cambridge Diamonds pattern. My recreation is a 17 card pattern using the Saxon technique of only turning every other card, every other pick. In other words every odd card was given a quarter turn forwards, the weft was packed, then every even card was turned in the same direction. This elongates the center diamond and creates a sturdy band that has the same pattern on the front and back, making it perfect for structural bands such as straps or belts. In order to ensure the edge was bound correctly to the piece the two edge cards were turned every pick, rather than every other.

The fragment itself was unearthed in 1931 as a double sided linen strip attached to the end of a belt fixture. There is some debate as to the age of the extent example, it is unknown whether it is 10th century Anglo-Saxon or a later medieval piece, but as diamond patterns in textiles are common to nearly every time period and region I am interpreting this pattern as reasonable to the 10th century.

The scrap unearthed shows what appears to be a diamond pattern done in three colors, a dark background color, a second diamond color, and a light color as a highlight and outline around the center diamond. The original find was woven in linen or another bast plant fiber, potentially nettle, and measured roughly 1cm wide.

My textile was created using purple and yellow linen, per the original find, with the addition of hand spun blue wool to create the diamonds. The blue wool was S-spun on the same soapstone spindle used to spin the internal sewing thread. My recreation is wider than the original at 1.5cm wide on average. I elected to use part of the band showing my attempts to reverse engineer the pattern as the back half of a strap in order to show my process in recreating the original.

Original fragment unearthed from St. John Crick’s Field, Cambridge (left) my recreation (right)

Front Panel:

This was woven using a starting band. Starting bands are strips of tablet weaving, from which an extra long “fringe” is suspended, creating the warp for the final textile. This allows the warp to be evenly spaced without the use of a reed, which is required for modern horizontal looms, and is the hallmark of warp weighted loom woven textiles. This piece was woven on a modern horizontal table loom, but with a vertical loom starting band, to mimic the look of 10th century Northern European textiles. The starting band features a common greek key pattern.

The front panel itself was woven as a balanced tabby weave of 30 ends per inch. Tabby was chosen, rather than the more appropriate diamond twill, in order to create stripes with mild iridescence. This is also the reason silk, rather than linen or wool, was chosen as the fiber. Due to contact, through sites such as Birka and trade routes through the Byzantine Empire, with China silk was known to 10th century Northern Europeans. The samples we have are small in size and point towards the thread being used to create trims that could be easily removed and added to new garments. It is unlikely, though not out of the realm of possibility, that a garment the size of this front panel would have been made of silk.

Front panel thread count and starting band


  1. _Viking Age Headcoverings from Dublin_. Dublin: Royal Irish Academy, 2003

Smith, Michèle Hayeur Excerpt of Bundled up in Blue, the re-investigation of a Viking grave, Publications of the National Museum of Iceland; pp.25-43. 2015. Located under: The Lady in Blue-Bláklædda Konan: the textiles. National Museum of Iceland.

Crowfoot, G.M. (1952). “Anglo-Saxon Tablet Weaving”. The Antiquaries Journal. 32 (3-4): 189–191.

Starting band pattern located at

Østergård, Else. Woven into the Earth: Textiles from Norse Greenland. Aarhus: Aarhus University Press, 2004. Print.

Christensen, Arne Emil; Nockert, Margareta. Osebergfundet IV, Tekstilene. Universitetet i Oslo 2006.

Geijer, Agnes. Die Textilfunde aus den Gräbern. Birka: Untersuchungen und Studien III. Uppsala: Kungl. Vitterhets Historie och Antikvitets Akadamien, 1938.

Lehtosalo-Hilander, Pirkko-Liisa. Ancient Finnish Costumes. Vammala, 1984.

Barber, E. J. W. Women’s Work: The First 20,000 Years : Women, Cloth, and Society in Early Times. New York: Norton, 1994.
Barber, E J. W. Prehistoric Textiles: The Development of Cloth in the Neolithic and Bronze Ages with Special Reference to the Aegean. Princeton, N.J: Princeton University Press, 1991. Print.

Lets Talk Documentation

So a while back, over a year at this point I talked about recognizing good vs less reliable sources. But I neglected to point out one very key thing:

Getting documentation in the first place is half luck, and half circumstance. But wait! You’d put a lot of time and energy and effort into your research! It’s work not luck! Allow me to be clear for the rest of this: I am not discounting the work and effort of research and writing. It’s hard, it’s time consuming, and if you’re not a research nerd it’s damn near torture.

But if you’re able to document what you’re doing as historical and appropriate to a specific place and time? You’re lucky. You’ve got sources to work from in the first place. The closer you are to present day the easier your research will be due to availability of sources in the first place. If you want to have, say, an accurate 1980s party you can talk to people who lived through it, and raid their closets for extant clothing. Having an 1880s party is a bit harder, but you have patterns and paintings and sketches and journals. You’ll need to compromise on what fabrics and techniques you use, but you can make reasonable substitutions fairly easily. 1780s has you relying on paintings and journals, still doable, but more wiggle room. 1680s? 1580s? The further back you go the less accurate and available your sources become. That’s not even getting into if they exist in a language you can read or a country that didn’t actively try to destroy them.

I do 950’s-ish Saxon. My sources are sketches in bibles, loom weights, a couple records of how we paid priests, and some bits of thread stuck to the back of metal that got mineralized rather than rotting. I’m lucky! I have sketches of how women’s outfits looked! I have scraps of thread and cloth that lets me guess at thread count! I have a hat with needle holes to tell me how big stitches were at a different place but within 100 or so years. I’ve also got contemporary textiles unearthed in Greenland, and a book about them that was translated into English.

I also have very fortunate circumstances that allow me access to sources that do exist. I’ve been given or loaned books, people have put the images online, I can get to them. I had the money and access to buy text books, and the materials to practice.

Compare that to someone trying to study Korean or Chinese or (gods help you) Tibetan anything. Sources either don’t exist because they were intentionally destroyed,  or they are so expensive to get a hold of that they may as well not exist.

So what can we do about it?

Share your sources. No, don’t put whole books of copyrighted information online. That’s bad, legally and will get you in trouble. But talk to people. Teach. Lend your books and articles, tell people where you found the information.

But dear sweet marshmallow fluff on toast don’t just tell someone they’re doing it wrong and walk off without offering to help.

And one more note, just because you *can* document something doesn’t mean you should recreate it. Lead make-up is a poor life choice, hemlock drinking bowls also a bad decision. Some things belong only in research papers, don’t hurt anyone.

Birka garb challenge

I wasn’t going to do the Birka garb challenge. Challenges (at least dictate by other people ones) aren’t really something I generally enjoy. I’m much of a “I do what I want!” kinda girl. So I didn’t look at the theme. Which has been posted for a while.

I was talking to one of my favorite enablers on Thursday, and found out she was doing it, and decided what the hell? I’ve got some fabric I’ve been meaning to make a dress, this is as good an excuse as any. I decided I’d make a machine sewn wool apron dress on Monday, as I had a memorial out of town that weekend. It’d be maybe an hour of work and I’d be all set.

You all know how this goes. We’ve discussed scope creep before. Don’t even pretend to be surprised.

Currently I have a wool apron dress, hand stitched with my own hand spun Icelandic wool top coat. That I processed using combs and the appropriate weight and style of drop spindle.

Because that wasn’t enough I’ve run two lines of herringbone stitch down each seam in silk. Still using a bone needle. I’m currently working on a running stitch of gold silk where the lines of the herringbone cross. No metal needle yet.

Once that’s done I’m going to warp purple and gold linen with my own dark blue wool hand spun (done on the same soapstone spindle) and weave 150 inches of tablet woven trim for the hem and straps.

I also have a purple and gold iridescent striped silk front panel with a knotted fringe. That I wove. With a starting band so it looks like it came off of a warp weighted rather than horizontal modern loom.

Yesterday I started what has now become a 4 page mini research paper, with a page of sources and a bunch of photos. I’ll post that on Sunday.

The challenge is on Saturday. As in I have 2 more days to finish this to avoid sewing in the car.

Thanks scope creep imp. I was doing just fine without you.