decorating
Author and cultural historian Kassia St Clair explores the history of this decadent rippling silk and why it continues to dominate fashion runways and homes
Interior designer Studio Ashby and architect William Smalley recently renovated a Georgian townhouse in Holland Park. The project, which combined a grand scale and a good deal of creative freedom, has plenty of talking points: an Hermès-orange and black guest loo, a doorway lined in marble, a bronze kitchen island. Perhaps my favourite detail, however, comes courtesy of a dressing room (oh, how the one per cent live) entirely swathed in petal-pink moiré from Dedar. It’s sublimely decadent and romantic: who could get ready in a room like that without feeling like Botticelli’s Venus?
The choice of moiré was a considered one. This is a textile – traditionally, but no longer exclusively, made from silk –that reflects plenty of light (an important consideration in a small room). It also lends an air of formality and gravitas, no matter the colour. The fabric’s origins are murky. China enjoyed a near-monopoly on silk production for centuries, and was a country filled with incredibly skilled weavers, so it’s likely that it was the first to discover the technique. Also known as watered silk, moiré has traditionally been created by calendaring. Heat and pressure are applied to folded lengths of fabric with a rib weave using large, textured rollers. This process flattens and distorts parts of the warp and weft, creating an undulating, rippling effect in the cloth, reminiscent of wood grain. Today, moiré-like designs can also be printed onto textiles, ceramics and other surfaces.
Heat and pressure are applied with rollers to folded lengths of the cloth, creating an undulating and rippling effect
From the 17th to the 19th century, this fab
