Fabric, Stories, and Memories at The William Trent House

"The fabric of our lives," began historical re-enactor Leslie Bramett's brief talk about how we went from owning two outfits comprising of five items of clothing, to having closets and dressers overflowing with more items of clothing than we can count. Bramett's talk, "The Stories Fabrics Tell: an Illustrated History" was the keynote presentation in the greater "Fabric, Stories, and Memories" exhibition that opens next weekend at the 1719 William Trent House.

Bramett wore a Colonial-era dress she hand stitched, and brought three other dresses she made--all pink, all using different types of fabrics and styles to illustrate the points she made in her power presentation.

"The fabric of our lives" evokes the 1980s television commercial encouraging people to turn away from polyester and return to cotton. She said since she started wearing cotton for work, that when she wears synthetic materials they just don't feel right. 

Her presentation was neatly organized into four categories:

1) Functional

2) Status

3) Political

4) Artifact

Functional: in the 1600s clothes served a function. Everyone, even the most wealthy, had two outfits that they wore every day. One for work, and the other (if lucky) to wear to church on Sundays.

Status: Around the 18th century, fabric became tied to the economy. Cotton and linen were exported from the New World and sent to Britain to be turned into cloth, which was then sold to people in the New World. At the same time, people were traveling to other parts of the world and seeing what others were wearing.

Fabric became a status symbol. Rather than having plain fabric, printed material began to exist. The lower classes still wore solid colors (often in linen), the middle class citizens wore patterned cotton cloth, but the wealthy wanted something different. They wore silk fabric with patterns. After all in those days of slavery, labor was cheap so to show your wealth, you had to wear better fabric. This extended to your bedding, drapes, table cloths, and all fabric you needed.

Political: Laws were made to dictate what Black people could wear. Louisiana's Tignon Law of 1786 said women of color must cover their hair to suppress their beauty. South Carolina's 1735 Slave Code law specified that Blacks could only wear "Negro cloth," which was not as fine as what their owners wore. This law was ignored by the slaveholders who chose what their property would wear. She compared it to posted speed limit signs versus how we drive in New Jersey, some might obey but most don't.

Another interesting rabbit hole was that during the Revolutionary War era there were boycotts on buying fabric from Britain. Instead people spun their own fabric and made their own clothes as part of the Homespun Movement. Think of it as the original Buy in America movement started by women.

Artifacts: this was the most fascinating part of Bramett's discussion. She pointed out that very little fabric actually exists from the Colonial era, so how do historians like herself know so much about them? There are three ways: runaway ads, wills, and foundling homes. Each a little more distressing than the previous.

Runaway ads described not just the physical characteristics of the runaway slaves, but their attire, often in great detail. Remember, people did not have a lot of clothing in that time period.

Wills. Fabric was so valuable that everyone who had a will listed it in their wills. For the William Trent House they listed linens at a modern day value of $312. Linens were passed down to the the next generation. One man in the audience said he remembers helping his grandmother create quilts for each of the people in her family so they would have something from her when she passed.

Foundling homes. This was the most distressing way to learn about fabric patterns, but crucial to seeing actual pieces of fabric from bygone times. When a woman left her baby at a foundling home, she left the child with a piece of fabric from her dress and kept a piece. This was used to identify which child was hers. Though only 166 children were claimed out of the thousands left, in the age before fingerprint identification, this was crucial for identification. The Foundling Museum in the United Kingdom (formerly the Foundling Home) had an exhibit on children claimed. Somehow Bramett got through this portion of her talk without choking up, something she said she has been working on. This exhibit provided a "wealth of knowledge of fabrics of ordinary women." 

She noted that while the ordinary people were boycotting British (including Irish and Indian) goods, George Washington and the wealthy class were not. They still wanted to keep up appearances among their friends. Way not to show leadership, George.

It was a fun talk. They introduction included extending an invitation to others who want to give presentations. They are always looking for guest speakers, often academics have to give talks as part of their requirements. 

Next up is a talk by Robert Selig called: German Soldier in America: Georg Daniel Flohr, Regiment Royal Deux Points on March 15 at 2 pm. Same place. 

Countries Visited

Because this comes up in conversation every so often, thought I would create an official list of countries I have been to so far. Since crossing the International Date Line I've wanted to cross the equator (open for suggestions). I'd also like to go to Africa.

(Written in 2017, updated 2023 and 2026)

1. Canada
2. Iceland
3. England
4. France
5. Belgium
6. Luxembourg
7. Switzerland
8. East Germany (visited while separated)
9. West Germany (visited while separated)
10. Germany (visited post reunification)
11. Holland/Netherlands
12. Portugal
13. Italy
14. Vatican City
15. Japan
16. Cuba
17. Mexico
18. Denmark
19. Estonia
20. Russia
21. Sweden
22. Finland
23. Israel
24. Palestine (from Jerusalem into Bethlehem)
25. Spain 
26. New Zealand
27. Australia
28. Norway
29. Peru

Peru Adventures

Three days ago we came home from visiting Peru. Over the next couple of weeks, I'll be adding stories, adventures, and pictures. They will appear on the dates when the stories took place. 

I came home a bit beat from the trip and am processing why. After all, Peru is the same time zone. It was a relatively quick trip (we were only away eight days). The travel company took care of the nitty gritty details, leaving me to only worry about filling free time and finding lunch and dinner each day. An added bonus, the weather is turning warmer in New Jersey making the snow melt faster than it did with the January snow -- we actually saw our lawn for the first time in a couple of months. 

As I write about what we saw, and what I learned, I hope to uncover the answer to why I am beat, and figure out how not to repeat that feeling on a future trip. Thank goodness I have the time to digest the trip and not just move forward with the next experience.

Bear with me as I dive into the adventures.

Pun intended ;)

 

Day 7: Peru, Cusco: Killing Time Visiting the Temple of the Moon

Today is the day our group began to separate. Some left at 8 am for a midday flight. There was another group who was to be picked up at 11 am for a 3 pm flight. We are on the schedule to be picked up at 3:30 pm for a 7 pm flight. 

Don woke up feeling a little better, but not that great. We hoped a hike would revive him. 

We were not thinking clearly. We were both beaten by the 11,000 feet altitude, so to hike straight uphill another 600 or so feet was probably not the best use of our day. In hindsight, we should have gone to the Machu Picchu Museum Casa Concha and had a leisurely lunch instead.

Researching the trip, I had read about the Temple of the Moon and thought that would be a nice activity for the morning. Google Maps said it was a 45 minute. Maps have a way of looking flat. Still, we should have known better after our "25-minute" hike to Cristo Blanco that lasted well over an hour and kicked the wind out of my sails.

Pretty views, and places to rest

The flat part before the climbing

The hike itself was winding up streets that were far away from the tourist path. These led to staircases that led to spots with amazing vistas and even more uphill streets. As I waited for Don to catch up (a rarity when we go for walks together as he is usually the one zipping up the trail), I paused to take a picture of two dozing dogs when they woke up and one of them decided to attack my sweater as I tried to take his picture. I never did get my picture, but I did save my sweater. 

Rare to see Don lagging behind me

That's a good sign

The sign led us to cut through a field where someone was receiving a horseback riding lesson. The map kept saying "not much further," or at least the time to destination kept going down.

As we walked through this field we met a couple from Maine. One of the few Americans we encountered on our vacation. Something that was pointed out to me later, but which I did not appreciate in the moment. Peruvians are desperate for tourism, but Americans seem reluctant to go there. I told Peruvians I would encourage my friends to visit. Consider these posts your encouragement.

I was looking for a visitor's center, hopefully one with a free bathroom, interpretive signs, and maybe even a gift shop. As there was no information center, I'm so glad we stopped to talk to the couple. They gave us some advice: walk around the rock formation to the back and go inside the cave. They noticed offerings and could smell incense as if the offering had been made earlier that day. They then suggested we take the Old Incan Trail back to town, that down would be easier than up. We would pass the Temple of the Monkey, which would need our imagination to see. After saying that they were heading back to the main road to hail a ride share.

We found the rock formation, and the fence saying keep out. We dutifully followed it around to the back. I had flashbacks to walking all around Australia's Uluru, but in browns, greys and greens instead of red. It was also not nearly as large, nor as hot. I suppose the similarities are just that there is a giant rock formation in the middle of nowhere that you can walk all the way around. One that I would understand better with a guide, but there was no guide and internet service was light.

Doing more research since coming home I learned the Temple of the Moon got its name from the crescent moon shaped symbol on it, as well as a snake, puma, and Andean condor (the Inca trilogy). I would have benefited from someone pointing these out to me.

Inside the cave is a finely carved altar. According to what I have read, moonlight reaches this altar through a hole in the top. As it was daylight, and we were warned not to visit at night due to vigilantes, that's why the websites have hours listed. I'll take their word for it. We saw some food offerings, but did not notice the scent of incense we were told to expect. 

Beautiful views of the Andes on the way out

When we were there we only saw one other couple who kindly offered to take our picture, and a man sitting next to a shack. As we walked down, we saw a few other tourists out hiking. I know, it looks like a fake backdrop.

On the way down, I saw a picture of a modern building that we saw, but there were no signs encouraging us to its door, so we assumed it was a private residence. 

We found the Old Inca Trail, a nice wide, grassy path clearly identified by short stone walls on either side. This is my kind of hiking.

A short distance on the path and we noticed people leaving a smaller rock formation. The Temple of the Monkeys. We looked around for a few minutes before continuing back on our path towards the Plaza des Armes.

The hike was going well until we found some new, unexpected friends:

When I first saw them, they were in the middle of the path, reminiscent of the moose in the opening credits of "Northern Exposure." Fortunately they were just crossing to find even tastier grass.

People riding mountain bikes zipped past us, as did a local woman with a small collection of dogs out for their daily dog walking excursion. I was really feeling out of shape, even on the downhill.

Views from our hike downhill. The vistas were more enjoyable on the way down.

Glad we didn't see this sign until we were leaving the
Old Inca Trail

When we reached the San Blas Market I knew where we were. Rather than walking past the Cathedral one last time, we headed towards the hotel and had one last meal at Basilica. We were a little sad Guadeloupe, our favorite server, was off. We had burgers that were too big to eat. The altitude was really messing with our appetites.

To round out our Cusco experience we walked to the shopping mall we had been told about on our first day. It is amazing how shopping malls look so similar. This one had an Adidas, Merrell, and other American sporting good stores. Don was hoping for a LEGO store, but alas the closest one was in a suburb of Lima (too far for our limited time). The bathroom was free, but they kept their toilet paper in the area outside the stalls so you have to plan ahead. There was something depressing about being in a brightly lit shopping mall, so we made our way back to our hotel where we rested for the first time in days.

The rest of our group of six seemed ready to leave Cusco. We all waited quietly, practically in separate corners, as if we all agreed to recharge. There was nothing left to say. People were ready to go home. The other two couples had early morning flights. One was staying at the airport hotel on their own dime because the tour company refused to switch them. The other couple wished they had planned ahead to do that. As our pick up time wasn't until after breakfast, and I still wanted to walk around Lima, we were happy to return to the hotel from our first night. 

Our pick up for the flight was ridiculously early. If we thought of more to do, we could have taken a taxi for less than $10 and made our own plans to return to the airport. It only has a few gates. There is no need to arrive three hours early. We were picked up so early we had a 20-minute wait for check-in to open because the crew was having a staff meeting. 

Don and I had tried contacting Exoticca the day before to see if they could put us on an earlier flight as my Lima wish list was longer than my Cusco one, and Don thought (rightfully so) his altitude issues would disappear as soon as we landed. Exoticca promised to get back to us. Spoiler alert: they did not. Someone in the group recommended only using them if we go through a travel agent first who would serve as our defensive team.

We waited with Ruth and Bill. Other than our ride to the hotel, it was our last chance visiting with them. Kim and George were on the other side of the room waiting area.  Their 26 day journey was almost over. They had been ready to go home since I met them on the train to Machu Picchu. They were ready to just be together.

Don and I were tired, but very ready for the 80 minute flight to Lima.

Day 6: Peru, Cusco Pisco Sour Tour

Thanks to booking our trip through a Black Friday sale Exoticca included a Pisco Sour mixology lesson. If you know us, we are not into mixed drinks, so that was not the selling point. In our group of 13, only one other couple booked the same weekend, thus earning the same bonus. With Don not feeling well, we asked Greg if he wanted to take his place. As a content creator (@Go.with.Greg) and bartender, he was interested.

As Ruth, Bill, and I walked over from the
Temple of the Sun tour with another Exoticca escort, I texted Greg the details. He met us at Republica del Pisco. Luis, our bartender and teacher, explained the history of pisco alcohol with enough humor to keep us entertained.

Pisco sours originated in Peru. When the Spaniards invade Peru, they brought grapes with them. They also brought slaves from Africa, and turned the Incans into slaves. In other words, there was a mix of cultures, which means different ways to make food and, in this case, drinks.  The grapes were hidden in jars and placed in the earth where they fermented into alcohol. The name pisco comes from the word piscous, meaning little earth. Or so Luis told us.

There were different variations of the drink. Some early ones were very strong. Personally, I found the version we made to be very strong. The original one was based off of whiskey sours, a drink I have never had. The original pisco sour was 3 oz. pisco plus 1 oz. lime juice plus 1 oz. sugar. 

It was a huge hit. Mario Regit, a young bartender at the time was able to parlay this success into opening his own bar.

The Peruvians knew this was a drink to sip, not one to toss back quickly like a shot. Mario realized he needed to find a way to slow it down, so he added egg white to the mixture. I agree, it sounds icky, but try it. He then added bitters to hide the taste of the egg.

Wikipedia gives a different version of the history.  Sometimes the storytelling is more important than the truth. Since we were sitting at a bar about to make a stiff drink, the details of the origin don't really matter.

Everything is already measured for us, but we are to use the jigger to get the feel of it. 

One key is to have good quality lime juice with phosphate of two to three (instead of the five to six at home). The syrups is just a combination of water and sugar, we were encouraged to make our own at home instead of buying one already made. 

Add six ice cubes to slow the process, and three drops of bitters. 

Going into this, I knew Greg was a bartender. I did not realize Bill has also done some bartending. Luis did not need to help them create the perfect pisco sour. He did come my and Ruth's aid by giving our drinks an extra couple of shakes.

The advice given was to drink it slowly, like a white wine, and (especially in a high altitude like Cusco) drink it slowly with dinner. Chicken, fish, pasta, and salty foods were recommended.

As Bill and Ruth were heading to dinner with much of the rest of our group we did not order food. Greg was there to make sure I found the hotel again. While walking back I spotted a woman selling corn on the cob and immediately bought an ear for $1.50. It was a good excuse to try the local corn on the cob. This Jersey girl still prefers the tinier, sweeter kernels found at home to what I ate on the street (yes, I was toasted enough to buy and eat street food without overthinking it). I'm still glad I tried it, but it would have been better with butter and salt.

Greg and I went back to Basilica, a small restaurant chain in Cusco Don and I had chosen on our first day because it was bright and airy, looked clean, and reminded us of New Jersey diners. Our server, Guadeloupe, was brand new and only spoke a few words in English, about as many Spanish words as we know. She smiled at us with a charmingly innocent look that endeared her to me. We smiled back, pointing to Google translate on our phones and assured her we would figure out the menu. 

I think what Don and I loved most about the restaurant, and the reason we dined there three times in three days, was the background sound track. Ever since I visited my host parents about eight years ago, I've noticed many restaurants in our price range seem to play 80s pop music. It is almost always music from when we went to high school. Basilica took that theme, and gave it a bossa nova twist. As we waited for our meal we hear 99 Red Balloons, Alanis Morrissett's Isn't it Ironic, and others, but in different voices with a beat that reminded us of Bo, Darla, and Rich's Stringzville jams at the Hopewell Train Station. It was both familiar and fresh, a tough combination to create. It was as if Don was with us in spirit. I sent him a text to join us, but he was still not ready to face food.

Ever the gentleman, Greg (who is young enough to be our son), got me back to the hotel. Or rather, with the help of Google Maps, I got him back to the hotel after stopping off at a grocery store to buy more bottles of water. We bought more bottles of water on this trip than I have in several years combined, but better that than getting sick.

Day 6: Peru, Cusco Guided Temple of the Sun Tour

Across the street from the Temple of the Sun Jose points out a white and blue building. The lower level is clearly made from an Incan foundation, or at least clearly once someone points it out to you. The Incans did not use mortar between the stones. They just perfectly fit together. The upper part was destroyed in an earthquake, but the foundation stuck together.

As we waited to enter the historic site I noticed a woman selling the book Jan loaned me before the trip. She was talked into buying it and was kind enough to share it with me.

Santo Domingo Church was built over the
former Temple of the Sun. The Spaniards recognized this building was the most holy Incan site in Cusco and wanted it for themselves. The top was gilded, which they immediately stripped away. For the Incans the gold was just a decoration and not a sign of wealth.

The word temple is one used by Westerners to explain the site. It is not one the Incans would have used. Yes, it was an important religious site, but the term temple doesn't quite describe it accurately. 

Inside the rooms dedicated to the sun, moon, stars, and earth are niches for people to leave their offerings, such as coca leaves. The Spaniards thought this was where they kept mummies of their kings and queens, but no evidence of that has been found.

When the Incans took over the site, they covered the stone walls with plaster. That was destroyed during the earthquakes, but the walls still stood. 

My notes include a bunch of sketches that are hard to translate into words. Since I was allowed to take pictures in here, I will share those instead.

Written in English, it must be important

Courtyard

Jose showing us some of the architectural finds

The openings all perfectly line up together

Don, who already was not feeling well, decided to return to the hotel. Ruth, Bill, and I headed to the Pisco Sour tour, pisco sour is their local drink. I invited Greg to join us as he was back from the Rainbow Mountain, and when he is not travelling he is a bartender.