After weeks of hunkering down, nature has been quietly whispering “Spring. Spring. Spring.” Now it’s almost shouting it and the energy and vitality of this exciting winter-spring time feel palpable, as bulbs pierce through the hard soil and blackthorns burst into blossom. The lengthening daylight warms not just the soil but our souls as well. It’s exhilarating.  

The arrival of spring seems to stimulate our creative juices too and so it feels timely to start introducing some of the garments I’ve been creating for you for the warmer months. 

  Looking at prototypes of the new designs together, I realised I’ve introduced a lot of “Broderie Anglaise”. My love for eyelet embroidery, this quintessential summer-tide wear that lets the breeze drift through, is a longstanding affair. It stems from my childhood and teenage years.  

Recollections. A family Christening robe passed down through the generations, no longer so white but still treasured, worn by tiny creatures enveloped in (and almost lost inside) the long, long heirloom. A torn black and white photo depicting my sister and me standing on the edge of a canal boat in Amsterdam wearing matching embroidered dresses and short socks during a happy family holiday. Crafting in the run up to Christmas when we folded paper, cut out little shapes, and then opened the concertina’d sheets to reveal the skirts of angels. And later teenage years spent hunting down (and wearing) Victorian underwear in Portobello Market.  

A little history: Broderie Anglaise, or eyelet embroidery, is believed to have been invented in the 16th century in Eastern Europe, probably in what is now the Czech Republic. It became known as “English embroidery” during the 19th century, because the English favoured it so. During that time when showing an elbow or an ankle was considered scandalously provocative, it appeared mostly in children’s wear and on underwear but also as a trim on dresses. Despite the air of modesty of that underwear lies a suggestion that it mightn’t have been altogether opposed to a romp in the hay with the gamekeeper if social conventions had been less strict. But maybe I’ve watched too many movies. 

Since then, Broderie Anglaise has drifted in and out of fashion, enjoying quite a revival during the 1950s. I particularly love the wedding dress  that Brigitte Bardot wore for her marriage to Jacques Charrier in 1959. Designed by Jacques Esterel, it was cut in pink gingham and trimmed with Broderie Anglaise and combined an image of demureness with a touch of that of the sex-kitten for which BB was famed. 

  A little technique: eyelet embroidery is traditionally created by cutting holes in fabric and then using buttonhole or overcast stitching to prevent fraying. We outline our motifs in satin stitch with a hand-guided embroidery machine and then cut out the eyelets afterwards. There are lots of fabrics around with pre-created eyelet designs repeated across them, but we don’t currently use these. Instead, each leaf or flower is stitched separately by one of our master embroiderers. 

The first garment I designed using this type of embroidery was a variant of the Diplomat’s dress for the wedding of my son and daughter-in-law in France last summer. It has large heart-shaped embroideries on the sides and, though it was originally created as a one-off, I’ve now made a few more “by popular request” as they say, which will be arriving soon. Since then, we’ve created the Eliza cap sleeved blouse, the Eliza long sleeved blouse, the tiered linen Phoebe Skirt and the button-down Tess Skirt and another dress (the Apple-picker’s dress, coming soon too), all with very simple eyelet flower embellishments. (As a nod to the Victorian/Edwardian eras I’ve added lots of pin-tucks and spaced tucks to some of these too.) 

I hope that some of these pieces, rooted in tradition, will accompany you as you turn your faces to the sunshine and create your own new memories for the future.  

Ruth xx

For further reading (and vintage wedding dress inspiration!) - https://www.vogue.com/slideshow/brigitte-bardot-weddings