On my first visit to Croatia two years ago, I learned that modern-day ties, or cravats, have their origin in 17th-century Croatia. The word “cravat” itself is actually derived from a corrupt French pronunciation of “Croat.” What I didn’t realize at the time I bought my husband and son-in-law some beautiful silk Croatian ties, however, is that the production of not only the garments but the fabric itself has a centuries-long history in that country.

My visit to Dubrovnik last month allowed me to visit a small operation which is seeking to keep alive the custom of producing silk in Croatia. The focus with this group is on providing the silk thread used in the elaborate embroidery of traditional folk costumes. During the Bosnian War of the early 1990s, many of those garments were damaged or destroyed, but small cottage industries such as the one I visited work to rebuild that nearly lost heritage.

We were treated to a brief chronology and demonstration of the lifecycle of the silkworm and the “harvesting” of the silk thread from the cocoons. I had understood that Dubrovnik had been a major player in the silk trade between Europe and the Far East, but I had never known that silk was actually produced here. At some point, about one thousand years ago, the worms and mulberry seeds were smuggled out of China and brought here. Since that time, not much has changed in the raising of the worms and the spinning of the thread (except that now, to stop the developing larvae from chewing through the cocoon and destroying the silk, the cocoons are placed in a freezer).  

We watched as one of our hostesses placed a number of cocoons in a small copper pot of water over a warm burner. As the cocoons softened, she swirled a small bundle of twigs around the pot, snagging the fine threads, five or six at a time, and gently pulled and twisted them together to form one long, strong fiber which was wrapped into a ball of thread.

Later, the thread would be washed and then dyed, using natural ingredients like tree bark, plant roots or minerals to color the silk. Some would be woven into fabric on a large loom sitting in the workroom, while most would be used in embroidered patterns to adorn traditional folk dress. I was impressed with how strong and at the same time soft the thread is, and with the amount of time required to hand-produce this lovely product. How fortunate that there are those who are willing to work to keep this cultural treasure alive!

— Patty Vanikiotis, associate editor/copy editor