Symbolizing Identity
Hmong Embroidery
A close study of embroidered Hmong sleeve bands in the Textile Resource Center, following lines of stitch, pattern, interruption, and identity.
Juliana Teresa Scalise
Embedded Files
1. First Encounter with the Sleeve Bands
People have many ways of leaving their marks on the world. We communicate who we are, where we come from, and what we hope for through words, gestures, objects, and materials. Textiles are one of the most intimate forms of this communication. Through symbols, colors, patterns, and cloth, people have spoken to one another, to their communities, and to the universe for generations.
I was immediately drawn to the embroidered Hmong sleeve bands in the Textile Resource Center. Their vivid colors, complex patterns, and careful stitches held my attention. The longer I looked, the more questions emerged. What did the motifs mean? How were the bands constructed? Were the woven borders made separately or as part of a longer strip? Why did one small yellow motif interrupt the otherwise rhythmic pattern? And why did one sleeve band appear unfinished? This research began with close looking. By following the lines of stitch and pattern, I began to understand these fragments not only as decorative objects, but as garments connected to identity, memory, labor, and cultural expression. We as people have many ways of leaving our marks on the world, ways we communicate who we are, where we come from, and what we hope for. The ways we display these identities and beliefs are complex and varied, but very often found in textiles. From the earliest moments on earth we spoke to each other and the universe through symbols, colors, and materials embedded in cloth. Deep traditions are found all over the world of varying symbols and techniques. The Hmong are a group with beautiful symbolism known to adorn traditional garments. I was immediately attracted to the embroidered Miao Sleeve Bands at the Textile Resource Center (TRC). Their complex, colorful patterns and varied stitches immediately drew me in. Soon, I began to wonder about their functions, their purpose, and what stories the sleeves hold.
2. Questions That Guided the Research
When I began to sit with the sleeves some early questions immediately arose. The biggest one was, what the motifs might symbolize, if anything.They were so delicate and complex, repetitive and unique. I became curious about the construction of the garment pieces. I wondered if the bands that framed the embroidery were hand woven, and if so, were they woven as one long strip or separately? I was also curious why the blue weft floats on the back that appear throughout the woven bands were not present at the beginning or the ends of the woven bands. In the makeup of the embroidery there is also a peculiar moment as a small yellowish motif disrupts the otherwise symmetrical pattern, and it does not appear on the other sleeve band. Could this motif be a maker's identifier, a mistake? Seeing them in the TRC I also wondered about the fragments original purpose? As stated by the TRC they are sleeve bands but were they made for someone, for tourists? Focusing all of these questions I intend to understand the significance of symbolism and icons in Hmong embroidery traditions, and in doing so understand a little more of the complex ways we as humans display, communicate, and connect with each other.
The Textile Resource Center (TRC) provided solid ground work information on the Miao Sleeve Bands. This information included: giving details about the donor, the techniques used for the embroidery, and the fact these were originally from a garment. The TRC also gave information on the condition of the garments, and treatment the fragments have undergone. With this most of the information was purely visual, like while the TRC gave the way in which the embroidery was done there is a gap in information around transcription. I intend to see if there is any information on the actual pattern of embroidery, or to better understand how the sleeve bands would function on the garment. Another aspect that was missing was the techniques used for the four weaving bands on the edges of the fragments. While there is technical information on the embroidery there is none on the weavings. I intend to better understand this structure and the material makeup. One of the final things I intended to research is, if Miao is the correct word to be using when referring to the Hmong community, through Danielle (TRC Collection Manager) I was told that they know of two titles for the community, and that there is debate around which to use. I intend to better understand the Hmong embroidery traditions, which entails being considerate of language and titles.
3. Language, Identity, and Naming
Semantics are important, so I would like to acknowledge the language I will be using throughout this research. I will be using Hmong to refer to this diasporic community. While the community throughout history has been referred to as Hmong, Miao, and Meo. 3 Throughout researching I have come across all usages, and taking time I learned that both Meo and Miao are engraved with derogatory connotations. Meo means “cat” in Vietnam, Thailand, and Laos. Miao in Chinese has connotations with “barbarian” 3 With this information, I will continue to use Hmong. If this title is to ever change however, I will make the dedication and time to change my language.
Fig 1. Embroidered Hmong sleeve bands, TRC 07.26 (2/2), unknown maker, China, 20th century. The two fragments show repeated embroidered motifs, woven border bands, and areas of variation between the two sleeve bands
4. Object Description
The Embroidered Hmong Sleeve Bands [fig 1] –which can be found in drawer C1 in the Textile Resource Center– are two almost identical garment fragments measuring at 46.3 x 9.3 cm. Each fragment has a black base cloth with symmetrical abstract patterning embroidered into it, some of the patterning vary slightly Right before the edge of the fabric adorning only one of the sides can be found four folded ribbons that sit underneath a blue strip of fabric. The blue fabric has circles and triangular forms embroidered on it. Adorning both selvedges are two woven bands, consisting of similar color palettes to that of the embroidery. The main color that makes up these fragments is a vibrant red, with other colors such as: blue, orange, purple, green, and yellow also appearing throughout the fragments. All these colors combine to make a gorgeous abstract modified pattern.
5. Following the Line: Technique and Construction
Refined skill and technique are needed in Hmong embroidery traditions. With these fragments, much about their creation remains unknown. One of these unknowns is whether the maker used a stencil. Hmong embroidery often uses paper cuts known as ganxi.1 Often, these paper patterns were reused, and because they were very precious, they were stored by one or two priests. 1
There is no way to confirm whether a stencil was used for this embroidery, and I have doubts that, if one was used, it would have been a paper one. Throughout the embroidery, there are moments that do not follow the clearly laid-out pattern [fig. 2]. These disruptions are small enough that the reasoning behind them has to be either personalization or a mistake. Because the embroidery is so precise, I am hesitant to read the disruption simply as a mistake. It may represent personalization, although its meaning cannot be confirmed.
Moving to the technique of embroidery, the majority of the embroidery is done in satin stitch, specifically with the back side up. This is indicated by the thread tails being present on the back side of the cloth. For the more complex motifs, especially those with more curvature, chain stitch was used. For the application of the ribbons, blue fabric, and woven bands, a simple running stitch was used; this could also be described as appliqué.
The bands, however, are an interesting moment. They appear to be handwoven for several reasons. First, because this is a traditional garment with such meticulous work, it is unlikely that the bands are commercial cloth. Second, the variation in the beating of the weft makes it unlikely that they were machine-woven. Third, the floats along the back make commercial fabric less likely, as such floats would likely have been cut before sale.
Fig 2. Detail showing running stitch, float-weave structure, warp structure, and embroidery. The reverse and edges reveal construction details that are not visible from the front.
Composition: With further examination, we can begin to understand how these fragments were constructed. The base black cloth appears to be an interlaced cotton plain-weave structure. On this foundation fabric, the embroidery appears to be silk, based on its sheen, softness, and the common use of silk in Hmong embroidery traditions.4 The same can be said of the blue cloth: a cotton base with silk embroidery.
The bands, however, are an interesting moment as a float-weave structure. The material used is unknown, but it is most likely synthetic, based on its shine and feel. The float-weave technique is indicated by the floats on the back. What is odd, however, is that there are consistent blue weft floats along the back that go into the selvedges and are then tucked in. At the ends of each band, the blue weft floats are not present, but the blue selvedge is still there.
Considering this, there are two possibilities: first, the weft floats came undone and are now missing; second, they were never present in that part of the structure. Looking into both possibilities, I checked under the microscope to see if I could identify missing weft material, but the results were inconclusive because I could not get a clear visual. The second possibility seems most likely. At both ends of the selvedge, the weft material is more condensed. This is probably because the blue weft floats were not present, packing the other weft more tightly.
It is unknown whether the color was achieved through natural or synthetic dye methods, but the vibrancy of the colors suggests synthetic dyes. These dyes became prevalent in Hmong embroidery over the last century. It is also possible that the blue was made with a type of indigo, as Hmong embroidery traditionally included types of indigo in both thread and cloth.
Fig 3. Drawing and stitch reconstruction of a satin-stitch motif. This exercise helped the author understand the direction, density, and structure of the embroidered forms.
6. Pattern, Motif, and Meaning
Hmong embroidery traditions are a way to communicate, whether that be to a loved one, another member of the community, or to the universe. The embroidery usually communicates something. Most often Hmong embroidered garments communicate things such as: bond of clans, family emblems, marital status, and wealth.5 This tradition has deep rooted usage as both means of protection but also as ways to Hmong embroidery is also a way for the community to converse and understand the world around them. A growing tradition out of the Secret War in China is Hmong story cloths, this shows the continued growth of communicating through cloth. The Hmong embroidery traditions are vast and ever growing and changing alongside the community.
7. Disruptions, Incompletion, and Evidence of Wear
Upon close inspection and references there is no conclusive meaning behind the motifs present on the sleeve bands that I can determine. There were possibilities like that this was a modern take on the flower of life motif; and I was on that track for awhile as not only are the figures flower-like but this motif is often found on the sleeves of garments and is very common amongst many groups. 2 The flower-of-life motif can signify vitality and energy.1 Upon seeing more modern garments it became unlikely that it was a flower of life as many modern takes are much more figurative and usually reside near the elbow, not the sleeve bands. Another consideration was the elephant foot motif that is very common in Hmong embroidery, but this is also unlikely as it is missing the icon swirl. While there is no perfect answer I do still believe this not to just be purely decorative as most Hmong garments–especially hand-embroidered–hold some type of significance for the maker and wearer. This particular embroidery is also unique in disruption of pattern, especially with that peculiar little yellow figure [Fig 3] As I closely examined these garment fragments I could not help but notice the rhythmic pattern. For the majority of the embroidery and from far away there is a symmetrical pattern happening. But as I began to follow it I began to notice disruptions [see fig 4] There were moments throughout that were just slightly off from the original pattern. However I do not believe these to be mistakes, the cloth is so diligently embroidered that something so well done and subtle has all the means of intention. What that intention is I cannot say, but it does make the piece even more precious. I have enjoyed looking and seeing all its uniqueness.
In all of this work I was surprised to realize that the embroidery was never finished. At the end of the second sleeve band there is more black space than the first band. There is also the start of the striped lines that make up the outer containment for the floral like motif. This shows that the sleeve bands were never fully completed. This also suggests that the sleeve bands may not have been made for commercial sale.
Fig 4. Detail of the unfinished section and pattern interruption. The open black ground and incomplete lines suggest that at least one sleeve band was never fully completed.
8. Condition, Conservation, and Provenance
The condition of these garment fragments is fair. The garment fragments remain in place with the woven bands being loose on one of the edges. The ribbons as well are lifting slightly. Throughout both fragments a few spots of discoloration can be found, but these stains and discoloration are quite helpful. They reveal that someone did at some point wear them. The conclusion can be drawn to that by the fact the stains line up when the bands are cuffed like they would be when worn. There is also creasing along the garment fragments.
The Hmong sleeve bands were only conserved once, the original threads from the garment they were previously attached to were removed.
The Provenance information we have on these fragments is fragmented. The Hmong sleeve bands were donated by Andrew Causey in 2020. They were originally purchased by K. Pavelka for Causey. Why they were purchased for Causey is unknown.
9. Bibliography / Further Reading
Lee, Gary Yia. “Nostalgia and Cultural Re-Creation: The Case of the Hmong Diaspora.” Crossroads: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Southeast Asian Studies 19, no. 2 (2008): 125–154. http://www.jstor.org/stable/40860891.
Li, Zeng. The Secret Language of Miao Embroidery. Colorado: Thrums Books/Schiffer Publishing, 2020.
Torimaru, Tomoko, and Sadae Torimaru. One Needle, One Thread: Miao (Hmong) Embroidery and Fabric Piecework from Guizhou, China. Honolulu: University of Hawaiʻi Art Gallery, Department of Art and Art History, 2008.
Washburn, Dorothy Koster, and Donald W. Crowe. Symmetry Comes of Age: The Role of Pattern in Culture. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2004.
Wronska-Friend, Maria. “Globalised Threads: Costumes of the Hmong Community in North Queensland.” In The Hmong of Australia: Culture and Diaspora, edited by Nicholas Tapp and Gary Yia Lee, 97–122. Canberra: ANU Press, 2010. http://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt24h7r3.7.
Juliana Scalise
micro/MACRO, 2026 | BFA, 2026
Juliana is a Chicago based artist originally from Pennsylvania, her work explores what it means to continue to live after experiencing sexual violence within the homescape. Her work questions and considers violence in places and people we do not expect. All of this to validate many types of experiences, and her own. Through weaving, writing, and embroidery her work is not only a catalyst for self-healing but an invitation to care to consider violence.
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