Today, we are spoilt when it comes to light. We do our work and spend hours gazing into miniature worlds on backlit screens. Our days are spent in glass-clad offices; we illuminate rooms at the flick of a switch when the sun dares dip behind a cloud or the nights draw in. For most of human history, however, light has been a precious resource. We rose and set with the sun.
Lamps and candles were often smelly, inconvenient and expensive, reeking of tallow or gasoline, dripping hot wax on coverlets and incautious fingers. Flickering flames had to be goaded into providing proper illumination, ingeniously reflected by mirrors, polished metal or glass. Materials that borrow and reflect light – such as lacquer, gold or fine textiles – had a special significance. Satin is a supreme example.
It’s not a type of material exactly (although it was traditionally made with silk, it can also be created with cotton or nylon), but a group of related weaving techniques in which the warp threads float over the weft with very minimal interlacing; they might pass over three, four or even seven weft threads before going under one. The effect is uninterrupted lengths of smooth thread that feel soft and silky, better reflecting the light on one side while appearing dull on the other.
While the broad principle behind the method remains the same, there are several variations: duchess satin, which is very stiff and heavy; baronet satin, made using rayon and cotton; and charmeuse, which is lightweight. Satin textiles generally feel very flexible, smooth and almost slippery; they drape well and don’t wrinkle easily. They do, however, have drawbacks. The most serious is that all those long expanses of floating warp threads are liable to snag and pull, ruining the sleek appearance of the fabric.
The delicate textile originated in medieval China, possibly in the port city of Quanzhou; this city was called Zaitun by Arabic traders, and the word ‘satin’ is widely believed to be a derivation of this name. For several centuries, it was invariably created using silk and became a coveted trade good, popular across the world and wildly expensive. Much of the furniture at the Palace of Versailles, for example, was luxuriously upholstered with satin by generations of French royals, most notably King Louis XIV.
It should surprise no one that the Sun King, a lover of opulence and splendour who once used 20,000 candles to light up the Hall of Mirrors alone, was a devotee of the most lustrous fabric of them all.
