A Stripe Was Never Only a Stripe
Feyl,the striped cotton sarong, was the ground of formal dress in the Maldives. Horizontal bands of black, or of very dark brown and blue, run across white; sometimes maroon enters the field. Women wore it beneath the red Dhivehi libaas. Men wore it as a formal waist-cloth with a white shirt, kin to the everyday mundu. Court and commoner wrapped the same logic of cloth. Gold-thread kasabu at the ends announced rank. A stripe was never only a stripe. It was a place, a week of work, a family’s kept knowledge.
Arab and Portuguese travellers did not use the modern word feyli in every line. They saw the same rectangle of island cloth, named it in their own tongues, and,crucially, they saw that the islands wove for export. The wrap on the body and the bolt on the ship were one industry.
The Arab eye: Ibn Battuta and the ouiliyān
When Ibn Battuta served as qadi in the Maldives in the 1340s, men’s dress was already a waist-wrapper bound “in place of drawers,” with another cloth, the wilyān or ouiliyān, over the shoulders, “as Muslim pilgrims wear the iḥrām.” Some wore a turban; others a small kerchief. Women, including the queen, did not cover their heads. Most wore “only a waist-wrapper, which covers them from their waist to the lowest part.” Some added a short-sleeved shirt. He tried, as judge, to make women cover more, and failed. Silver stacked the forearms; gold was for the sultan’s women. Hair was combed and gathered to one side, the ancestor of the ceremonial bun.
H. C. P. Bell later read ouiliyān as a likely rendering of Maldivian feliya,.the waist-cloth worn commonly by women and, on special days, by soldiers. Whether every wilyān was a striped feyli as we now picture it, the garment class is the same: a local cotton wrap, the ground of dress. Ibn Battuta also watched cloth used as ritual. A bride spread cotton from door to chamber and laid cowries along the path; a greeting to the sovereign required a piece of cloth to cast down. Cloth was currency of respect as well as covering
He listed what ships carried away: dried fish, coconuts, fabrics, the ouiliyān, and cotton turbans, besides cowries, copper vessels, and coir. The islands were already selling the wrap and the head-cloth into the Indian Ocean. Raw cotton, like rice, had to come from abroad. The skill that turned it into island cloth was loca.
The Portuguese eye: finer than Bengal
Sixteenth-century Portuguese writers came for coir and found a textile industry they ranked with the great weaving coasts of India.
A description of about 1500–1518, in the tradition of Duarte Barbosa and related notices, is blunt about dress and law. Men wore “a cotton cloth reaching from the waist to the ankles.” Shoes, turban, and tied pantaloons needed the king’s leave. Women wore “a long shirt of white cotton interspersed with black.” The black-and-white pairing is the closest early foreign snapshot of the striped logic that feyli still keeps. Nobles pulled a cloth from the neck down over the shoulders when they approached the king, the same grammar of cloth-as-courtesy Ibn Battuta had seen.
Then the claim that still startles. “In these Maldive Islands they make very rich cloths of cotton and so fine that they are worth forty, fifty and even one hundred bastões per piece of cotton mixed with silk.” They also made cheap cloth. João de Barros, in the mid-sixteenth century, went further: the fabrics were silk and cotton, “and no finer stuffs are made anywhere in those parts.” The principal manufactories were on the islands he writes as Ceudu and Cudu,ead by modern editors as Huvadhu and Addu, “where there are said to be better weavers than in Bengal or Coromandel.” All the silk and cotton arrived from abroad. The islands lacked the fibre and still beat the famous looms of India on finish. Men wore kerchiefs “so finely wrought and perfect that our workmen would not be able to make them, and without any difference between the right and the wrong side.” What matters for history is the ranking: Maldivian weaving as an export art, not a cottage leftover.
Portuguese policy followed the goods. Coir was the prize. Native-made cloth of silk and gold was “in special request.” Treaties and monopolies tried to control prices of produce and manufactures together. The loom was part of what made the atolls worth a fort.
Pyrard: the wrap described from inside
François Pyrard, living in the islands from 1602 to 1607, described dress as a system. Men bound a band about the loins, then a small cotton cloth dyed blue or red to the knees, then “a large cloth of cotton, or silk, if they be at all rich,” to the ankles. Ordinary days left the quality shirtless; festival days brought gowns of cotton or silk with copper buttons,gold being for the king. Women wore “a large colored cloth of cotton or silk” from waist to ankles as a petticoat, and above it a long robe of taffeta or very fine cotton with blue and white borders. He kept weavers in view as an island profession that did not share a reef with goldsmiths. The sultan required islanders to turn the raw cotton he issued into cloth for soldiers three times a year. The throne itself was a textile contractor
François Pyrard, living in the islands from 1602 to 1607, described dress as a system. Men bound a band about the loins, then a small cotton cloth dyed blue or red to the knees, then “a large cloth of cotton, or silk, if they be at all rich,” to the ankles. Ordinary days left the quality shirtless; festival days brought gowns of cotton or silk with copper buttons,gold being for the king. Women wore “a large colored cloth of cotton or silk” from waist to ankles as a petticoat, and above it a long robe of taffeta or very fine cotton with blue and white borders. He kept weavers in view as an island profession that did not share a reef with goldsmiths. The sultan required islanders to turn the raw cotton he issued into cloth for soldiers three times a year.
The throne itself was a textile contractor, a fascinating concept that intertwines the realms of power, artistry, and craftsmanship. In this context, the throne symbolizes not just a seat of authority but also a hub of intricate textile production and trade. It represents the convergence of royal patronage and skilled artisans who wove together the cultural and economic threads of society, creating textiles that were not only functional but also emblematic of status and identity. The throne, therefore, serves as a metaphorical contractor, orchestrating the relationships between various stakeholders in the textile industry, from the weavers to the merchants and the aristocracy who demanded the finest fabrics.
By Pyrard’s time, which falls into the early 17th century, the evolution of women's fashion was already well underway, marking a significant shift in the way garments were designed and worn. The upper garment for women was transitioning from simpler styles to the more elaborate long robe that would ultimately become known as the libaas. This transformation reflected broader societal changes, including increased trade, cultural exchanges, and the influence of various fashion trends from different regions. The libaas, with its flowing lines and intricate patterns, not only provided comfort and elegance but also served as a canvas for the display of wealth and artistry in textile work.
Meanwhile, the lower cloth retained the characteristics of the older wrap, a garment that had historical significance and practical utility. Ibn Battuta, the renowned traveler and scholar, referred to it as a waist-wrapper, highlighting its functional aspect in everyday life. The Portuguese, on the other hand, described this garment as a cotton cloth that extended to the ankles, emphasizing its modesty and coverage. This lower cloth represented continuity in traditional dress, contrasting with the evolving upper garments. It was not merely a piece of clothing but a symbol of cultural heritage that linked generations of women, reflecting their roles and identities within their communities.
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