Fabric Focus
TEXTILE TALES
From utilitarian origins as a mattress covering, ticking has graced the humblest and grandest of interiors over the centuries, and its current revival confirms its enduring appeal
The term ticking has become synonymous with a cotton or linen cloth featuring crisp, narrow stripes; a cloth that segues comfortably from under-counter curtains in utility rooms to smart upholstery in elegant drawing rooms, and everything in between. In truth, the name refers as much to the tight weave of the textile as it does to the stripe. Sometimes a tight twill but more authentically a firm herringbone, the ticking weave originated with the need to encase the fillings of early mattresses in a way that prevented straw, chaff, leaves, rushes, bracken, feathers and other fillings from poking through and prickling sleepers awake.
These refillable, sack-like structures were widely referred to as ‘ticks’ – many believe the term derives from the Latin theca, a case or sheath, and the Ancient Greek word théké for receptacle – and over time, the textile used to make the tick became referred to as ticking.
In France, vintage tickings can occasionally still be discovered in damask and striped weave designs, and so we should perhaps most accurately refer to the modern resurgence of this aesthetic as a ticking stripe.
A change of use
It was with the advent of World War II that the ticking stripe moved from its humble status as a utilitarian bedcovering to more decorative use. The American decorator Sister Parish (1910-1994), is widely reputed to have led the way, and her influence is likely for the US market. However, insight from Imogen Taylor, the hugely admired former principal decorator and former assistant to John Fowler at the renowned firm Sibyl Colefax & Fowler, offers another perspective. ‘Everything was on ration after the war for some five years. Decorating had its limitations. Only nurses’ dress cotton in blue, green, mauve and beige stripes was off coupon, together with silk noil made from leftover parachute silk, which we dyed,’ Imogen explains. ‘At some point, we got hold of mattress ticking in grey and white stripes; also, in blue and white stripes. We used this strong cotton to create loose covers for sofas and chairs. Sister Parish was a great friend of owner Nancy [Lancaster], and would come into the shop in Brook Street on visits, often. She was greatly influenced by Colefax.’
Accessible elegance
When rationing came to an end, a yearning for finer cloth and opulent designs came to the fore again, in homes as in fashion. Yet in the 1980s, ticking stripes re-emerged as an
