How to hype a ring: the ‘Edward de Vere’ ring and the evidence

How to hype a ring: the ‘Edward de Vere’ ring and the evidence

by | Ancient jewellery, European jewellery

an elizabethan ring and the evidence

How to hype a ring: the ‘Edward de Vere’ ring

Published Sept 4, 2026

Sometimes, I come across a piece of jewellery that puzzles me. The other day, I spotted a gold ring offered by Berganza London as the ‘Historic Ring of Edward de Vere’. Set with a carnelian intaglio depicting a male bust in the likeness of a Roman emperor, it is a beautiful and rare piece of Elizabethan jewellery.

But how do we know this is really the ring of Edward de Vere?

I started reading the description, then went looking for the archaeological find record. And somewhere between what we know about the ring and what has been suggested about its former owner, I felt the leap from evidence to interpretation had become rather large, and so I wanted to take you along to separate fact from story!

The Elizabethan gold ring and its intaglio

The ring itself is a gold ring, with a beautifully decorated shank and bezel in a foliage design. The ring is set with an engraved carnelian, showing a bust of a bearded man, wearing a coronet with large radiating points. This is an ornament borrowed from Roman times, when notably the god Sol was depicted with such a head ornament: they are stylized rays of sun. That fits with the time period the ring was made: from the 16th century onwards, people of the upper layers in society began to take an interest in Classical Antiquity. It’s a beautiful piece, and it is absolutely rare.

See the ring, a parallel, and a cast of the intaglio here

But on Berganza’s website, it is listed as ‘Historic Ring of Edward de Vere’ and the page title itself says ‘Elizabethan piece of jewellery Edward de Vere’. Edward de Vere was a confidant and favourite of Elizabeth I, which leads to the description of this piece being ‘an important piece of Elizabethan history’.

Wait, how did we arrive at this very specific attribution?

Where was the ‘Edward de Vere’ ring found?

For that, we need to retrace the find circumstances. Where did this piece of jewellery come from?

As mentioned on the website, it was found by a metal detectorist in 2018 ‘near Hedingham Castle in Essex’.

But what is ‘near’? That is a conspicuously vague term, so I looked up the Portable Antiquities Scheme Database. In the UK, metal detectorist finds need to be registered, and so there is a find record of the ring here. You’ll find it listed in the references below this blog. Side note: this record is not referenced on the Berganza site. The find spot is given as the Greenstead Green and Halstead Rural parish – so not an exact location, but the parish it was found in. That is not unusual, and I assume the exact coordinates of the find are known with PAS.

Hedingham Castle is not located in that parish, though, but in (unsurprisingly) Castle Hedingham Parish. That is roughly 2 miles from the parish boundary listed as the find spot, so ‘near’ is still an hour’s or so walk away.

The PAS record further lists that the find fulfilled the requirements of the Treasure Act, but was disclaimed as Treasure in 2020 following further research and returned to the finder.

Why has the ring been linked to Edward de Vere?

Now to the Edward de Vere part.

Hedingham Castle is the ancestral castle of Edward de Vere. And because it was found ‘near’ the castle, it was assumed to be associated with its famous inhabitant. The video on this particular ring shown on Berganza’s Instagram (see it here) even suggests ‘an intimate likeness’ between the carving on the intaglio and the few surviving portraits of De Vere.

So, a ring with an intaglio that was fashionable in court circles at that time, found a considerable distance from Hedingham Castle, shows an intimate likeness to a man of whom very few portraits survive? Dating a ring to the Elizabethan period is one thing. Attributing it to a particular Elizabethan individual requires another level of evidence, I think.

To be fair, Berganza is appropriately careful in their wording. The description uses phrases such as ‘it has been suggested’ and ‘thought to have been commissioned and owned’, so the connection with Edward de Vere is never explicitly presented as established fact. I appreciate that distinction.

At the same time, the overall presentation points quite strongly in that direction. The ring is listed as the ‘Historic Ring of Edward de Vere’ in the listing page’s title tag you see in your browser’s tab, the page title identifies it as an ‘Elizabethan piece of jewellery Edward de Vere’, and the description concludes: ‘We rarely acquire a piece so historically connected and in such remarkable, museum quality condition.’

So while the individual claims are carefully qualified, the cumulative effect is rather more confident. A possible association gradually starts to feel like a provenance, but in reality, we do not know how historically connected this ring is.

And there is more!

From Edward de Vere to Shakespeare

There is a theory that Edward de Vere is actually none other than William Shakespeare: William Shakespeare would have been the pseudonym under which he penned famous works such as Macbeth.

And here the layers of possibility start to pile up. We have a ring that might be associated with Edward de Vere, based largely on where it was found and a suggested resemblance in the intaglio. De Vere, in turn, might, according to the Oxfordian theory, have written the works attributed to William Shakespeare.

That is overdoing it, I feel, as there is no solid evidence for the first claim to begin with.

What can we actually say about this ring?

None of this makes the ring itself any less fascinating. It is a rare and beautiful piece of Elizabethan jewellery, found in Essex and recorded through the Portable Antiquities Scheme. But there is a difference between what we know and what we would like to know. A find spot in the wider vicinity of Hedingham Castle does not by itself connect the ring to Edward de Vere, and a perceived resemblance in an intaglio is not the same as an identified portrait. Taking the next step, from Edward de Vere to Shakespeare, moves us further still from the evidence.

And that is exactly what interests me here: not whether someone has technically claimed that Edward de Vere owned this ring, because they have not, but how easy it is to arrive at a compelling association that the available evidence cannot actually confirm.

And that is why provenance matters so much. Objects acquire stories remarkably easily, especially when a famous name can be found to hitch the tale onto. And if it is repeated often enough, a possibility quickly turns into an attribution, and an attribution then becomes apparent fact. Key takeaway from this piece of jewellery: read a description carefully and separate established fact from (admittedly!) intriguing possibility.

Personally, I think this ring is interesting enough without the hype!

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References

PAS record: Flynn, S. (2018) ESS-A69E73: Post Medieval finger-ring. Web page available at https://finds.org.uk/pas/recorded-find/ESS-A69E73 under a CC-BY licence [Accessed: 04 Sep 2026 09:52:38]

Berganza listing: https://www.berganza.com/knowledge/extraordinary-jewellery/pieces-of-interest/important-piece-of-elizabethan-history [Accessed September 4th, 2026]

The Bedouin Silver blog gives credit where credit is due! Transparent referencing and citing sources helps us all grow. Would you like to do the same and quote this article? Here’s how:

S. van Roode, [write the title as you see it above this post], published on the Bedouin Silver website [paste the exact link to this article], accessed on [the date you are reading this article and decided it was useful for you].

The Bedouin Silver Jewellery Blog: Sigrid van Roode

Sigrid van Roode is an archeologist, ethnographer and jewellery historian. Her main field of expertise is jewellery from North Africa and Southwest Asia, as well as archaeological and archaeological revival jewellery. She has authored several books on jewellery, and obtained her PhD at Leiden University on jewellery, informal ritual and collections. Sigrid has lectured for the National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden, Turquoise Mountain Jordan, and many others. She provides consultancy and research on jewellery collections for both museums and private collections, teaches courses and curates exhibitions. She is not involved in the business of buying and selling jewellery, and focuses on research, knowledge production, and education only. Sigrid strongly believes in accessibility of knowledge, and aims to provide reliable and trustworthy content: that’s why the Bedouin Silver blog provides references and citations.

This blog is free: if you’d like to support independent, self-funded research, please consider enrolling in a course or a jewellery talk, or donate here directly.

The proceeds directly support travel costs, book purchases, and the time needed to wite articles like this one: thank you so much for your support!

Jewellery on the Bayeux Tapestry: what does it actually show?

Jewellery on the Bayeux Tapestry: what does it actually show?

by | Ancient jewellery, European jewellery

what does it actually show?

Jewellery on the Bayeux Tapestry

Published Sept 3, 2026

You probably heard one way or another, but in 2026, the Bayeux Tapestry is on loan to England from France. It’s on display in the British Museum while in its home of Bayeux, France, a new museum is being built. This historic loan prompted me to have a look at the tapestry again – in search of jewellery, of course! Especially since there is not all that much adornment featured.

What is the Bayeux Tapestry?

The Bayeux Tapestry is one of the most famous surviving works from medieval Europe. Created in the late 11th century, it shows the events leading up to the Norman conquest of England in 1066, ending with the Battle of Hastings.

It is not actually a tapestry, though: the scenes are embroidered in coloured wool onto a linen fabric of nearly 69 meters in length and approximately 70 centimetres in height. This horizontal banner, which is more what it was, was made to measure for the nave of Bayeux Cathedral. So, when you walked in, you’d see the entire story unfold, and then you could walk past it to see the details. Those include details that can only be seen from a close distance, such as texture in clothing, details of horse gear, the detailing around the rim of a drinking horn, and much more.

Close viewing was the idea, and that brings me to the question of the jewellery: what jewellery was featured on the Bayeux Tapestry?

What jewellery is shown on the Bayeux Tapestry?

There is surprisingly little jewellery featured on the Bayeux Tapestry; in fact, there is only one type of jewel that features with any prominence and that is the disc brooch. This is seen worn by men to close their mantle: sometimes on the shoulder, and sometimes on the upper chest. The image above of Harold Godwinson shows a disc brooch worn on the shoulder.

In some instances, the brooch closing a mantle seems to be more square than disc-shaped, such as in the image of King Edward the Confessor shown above.

I included an example of how we may imagine such a brooch to look like above. Popular in the 11th century were enameled brooches and brooches with filigree and precious stones.

Bayeux Tapestry jewellery and the archaeological record

There was of course more jewellery in existence during the 11th century than shown on the Bayeux Tapestry. Finger rings, for example, were among the pieces of jewellery most often worn. When Edward’s tomb was opened in 1102, Osbert of Clare described the king as wearing a crown and finger ring [1]. But such a ring was never depicted on the artwork in Bayeux, while he is shown wearing a crown.

Likewise, other embellishments such as decorated straps, ornate belts, pins etc are missing from the Bayeux Tapestry as well, while we know these existed.

Why is there so little jewellery on the Bayeux Tapestry?

The Bayeux Tapestry shows much less jewellery than we know existed. Why is that?

Firstly, the artwork shows a series of mainly military events. Here, identity and status are portrayed through more martial elements such as helmets, shields, swords, and horse gear. The disc brooches fit in with that aesthetic: they close the cloaks and mantles of high-ranking persons. In fact, brooches were an important part of personal identity, a notion that only grew stronger after the Norman conquests. [2]

Secondly, status is not just expressed through jewellery, but significantly also in textiles. Their colours, trimmings and textures would have sent messages to viewers on the status of the persons depicted. Edward’s garment for example, as depicted in the first scene of the artwork, has distinctive ornamental trimming, alongside richly represented cushions and hangings.

The Bayeux Tapestry is not a photographic record of reality, but includes jewellery when this serves the narrative. We see it feature mainly where authority is visualized, such as in the representation of Edward, Harold and William.

Jewellery on the Bayeux Tapestry: what it tells us about its time

So, if you do have the opportunity to see the Bayeux Tapestry and hope to find complete picture of 11th-century jewellery, you will come away disappointed. But that absence is interesting in itself. Jewellery appears selectively, particularly where it helps communicate status and authority, while other forms of adornment that we know from archaeological and written sources are left out.

That makes the Bayeux Tapestry useful in a different way. Rather than showing us everything people actually wore, it shows us which details made sense to the makers, and, even more, to the viewers of this extraordinary embroidered narrative. And sometimes, what an artwork leaves out can be just as revealing as what it includes!

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References

See this blog https://trc-leiden.nl/trc-needles/texts-films-customs-and-event/non-fictional-works/king-edward-the-confessor-s-embroidered-mantle

And for a complete overview of the tapestry: https://www.britishmuseum.org/blog/everything-you-need-know-about-bayeux-tapestry

[1] Gale R. Owen-Crocker and Maren Clegg Hyer, eds., Refashioning Medieval and Early Modern Dress: A Tribute to Robin Netherton. (Medieval and Renaissance Clothing and Textiles.) Woodbridge, UK: Boydell, 2019

[2] Weetch, R. Tradition and innovation: Lead-alloy brooches and urban identities in the 11th century. In D. M. Hadley & C. Dyer (Eds.), The Archaeology of the 11th Century: Continuities and Transformations (pp. 263–282). Routledge, 2017

The Bedouin Silver blog gives credit where credit is due! Transparent referencing and citing sources helps us all grow. Would you like to do the same and quote this article? Here’s how:

S. van Roode, [write the title as you see it above this post], published on the Bedouin Silver website [paste the exact link to this article], accessed on [the date you are reading this article and decided it was useful for you].

The Bedouin Silver Jewellery Blog: Sigrid van Roode

Sigrid van Roode is an archeologist, ethnographer and jewellery historian. Her main field of expertise is jewellery from North Africa and Southwest Asia, as well as archaeological and archaeological revival jewellery. She has authored several books on jewellery, and obtained her PhD at Leiden University on jewellery, informal ritual and collections. Sigrid has lectured for the National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden, Turquoise Mountain Jordan, and many others. She provides consultancy and research on jewellery collections for both museums and private collections, teaches courses and curates exhibitions. She is not involved in the business of buying and selling jewellery, and focuses on research, knowledge production, and education only. Sigrid strongly believes in accessibility of knowledge, and aims to provide reliable and trustworthy content: that’s why the Bedouin Silver blog provides references and citations.

This blog is free: if you’d like to support independent, self-funded research, please consider enrolling in a course or a jewellery talk, or donate here directly.

The proceeds directly support travel costs, book purchases, and the time needed to wite articles like this one: thank you so much for your support!

When the past is reimagined: how ancient jewellery got a makeover

When the past is reimagined: how ancient jewellery got a makeover

by | Opinion

when the past is reimagined

How ancient jewellery got a makeover

Published January 28, 2026

Jewellery has always had a powerful role in connecting us to the past. But what if the jewellery we see in museum displays isn’t quite as ancient as we’re led to believe? Or what if jewellery made just a century ago is mistaken for something millennia older? It happens more often than you’d think.

In this blog, I’ll introduce my new research project Jewellery Between Worlds, that I conduct as Visiting Research Fellow of the Netherlands Institute for the Near East at Leiden University.

In this project, I take a closer look at how the boundaries between archaeology and ethnography blurred in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and how that blurry line continues to shape our understanding of ancient Southwest Asia. I’ll explore how ancient jewellery has been altered, how more recent jewellery has been mislabelled, and how museum displays influence what we think the past looked like.

Jewellery that time-travelled…the wrong way

Let’s start with the ancient pieces themselves. Many items labelled as ancient in museum collections were never actually excavated in controlled digs. Instead, they made their way into collections through the antiquities trade (sometimes legally, more often not) and without any archaeological context.

And that’s where the fun (or frustration, depending on how you look at it) begins.

People of the 19th and early 20th centuries often had strong ideas about what jewellery should look like. So ancient beads and pendants were frequently restrung into contemporary fashion statements. A 1920s-style flapper necklace made from Egyptian antiquities—reassembled to suit Jazz Age tastes. Or take the beaded necklaces from the tomb of Djehuty, now in Leiden: they were likely restrung shortly after excavation, without any real record of their original arrangement. You can see one of the necklaces in the image gallery below. One of the things I examine is if this was done by sellers, or by curators – or both.

Even on professional excavations themselves, jewellery wasn’t always recorded with care. Beads, in particular, were fragile and tricky to recover, because their stringing had long since disintegrated.

As a result, we’re often looking at reconstructions, at 19th or 20th century designs using ancient components – yet presented as ‘authentic’ ancient necklaces. Have a look at the two necklaces below: they are eerily similar in their design.

When 2oth century jewellery masquerades as ancient

The confusion runs both ways. Museum collections also hold pieces that are actually ethnographic (so, made in the 19th or early 20th century and used by local communities) but labelled as ancient.

That is because jewellery, for a very long time, has not been studied as historical source in its own right, but at best as accessory. What also isn’t helping, is that very often, museum curators were men.

The thing is that this misidentification doesn’t just muddle museum catalogues. It reshapes how we imagine the past, often with an unconscious bias: assuming that non-Western cultures don’t change much over time, and that what peasants wore in the 1900s must look more or less like what pharaohs wore thousands of years earlier. It’s an old trope, and one that has been remarkably persistent.

Dressing the ancient past in the present

Even today, our mental image of ancient Southwest Asia is still shaped by these missteps. People in movies, TV-shows or sometimes simply images set in the past, are only too often adorned with ethnographic pieces from very different periods and regions.

What interests me here are the different approaches to material relics of the past. The accuracy of a building can be checked against archaeological sources. The same goes for jewellery: there is a ton of evidence of what people wore in the past. But somehow, that rarely translates into reconstructions of that past.

And so 19th century ideas about both the past and contemporary cultures continue to persist in visualisations of the past – and that’s a dynamic I want to explore further in this project.

Jewellery Between Worlds – my new research project

Jewellery isn’t just beautiful—it’s a historical source. It tells stories of who wore it, when, and why.

But it also tells stories about us: the collectors, curators, and viewers who handle and interpret these pieces. When an ancient necklace is restrung into a flapper fashion statement, or when 19th-century jewellery is rebranded as ancient, we learn as much about modern tastes and assumptions as we do about the ancient world.

This entanglement of old and new, fact and fashion, archaeology and ethnography, is part of the story of both archaeology and ethnography about a century ago. I think it’s high time we start to disentangle those views: if we don’t, it becomes a flaw in the system.

In 2026, I’ll be diving into storerooms and archives, to see if I can shed more light on how the the past and present came to be mixed up, and what we can do to educate both ourselves and the general public.

And finally: this is a self-funded position, meaning one I’m not getting paid for.  I think it’s important anyway, so I’m embarking on it regardless. If you feel like supporting me in this journey in other ways than by enrolling in a course, you can do so through this link – thank you!

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Find out more about the meaning of personal adornment in the e-courses!

More posts on jewellery and adornment? Browse them all here!

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The Bedouin Silver blog gives credit where credit is due! Transparent referencing and citing sources helps us all grow. Would you like to do the same and quote this article? Here’s how:

S. van Roode, [write the title as you see it above this post], published on the Bedouin Silver website [paste the exact link to this article], accessed on [the date you are reading this article and decided it was useful for you].

The Bedouin Silver Jewellery Blog: Sigrid van Roode

Sigrid van Roode is an archeologist, ethnographer and jewellery historian. Her main field of expertise is jewellery from North Africa and Southwest Asia, as well as archaeological and archaeological revival jewellery. She has authored several books on jewellery, and obtained her PhD at Leiden University on jewellery, informal ritual and collections. Sigrid has lectured for the National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden, Turquoise Mountain Jordan, and many others. She provides consultancy and research on jewellery collections for both museums and private collections, teaches courses and curates exhibitions. She is not involved in the business of buying and selling jewellery, and focuses on research, knowledge production, and education only. Sigrid strongly believes in accessibility of knowledge, and aims to provide reliable and trustworthy content: that’s why the Bedouin Silver blog provides references and citations.

This blog is free: if you’d like to support independent, self-funded research, please consider enrolling in a course or a jewellery talk, or donate here directly.

The proceeds directly support travel costs, book purchases, and the time needed to wite articles like this one: thank you so much for your support!

Behind the scenes of independent research

Behind the scenes of independent research

by | General jewellery topics

What it takes to be a jewellery historian

Behind the scenes of independent research

Published January 2, 2026

I thought I’d share a bit of real talk about life as an independent researcher – the part that is not often addressed because it is, in all honesty, not that glamourous. However, over the course of several talks with fellow self-employed specialists with similar experiences, I found that this is also the part that actually might need spelling out.

And so this once, I’m going to do just that.

I’m not employed by a university or museum: I work independently, which means I fund all of my research myself. That’s the unglamourous part right there. So how does that actually work? Let me take you behind the scenes into the nitty-gritty of the work!

Why I’m an independent researcher

I’m an independent researcher because this field is my passion, there aren’t all that many curatorial or lecturer positions at museums or universities available, and I believe I a have a useful contribution to make. That’s the simple truth of it. I chose this, and I love it.

Because I work independently, I don’t have an employer, which has lots of benefits, but also means I don’t receive a salary. I’m self-funded – in the most literal sense of the word. All research, travel, writing, and website maintenance is paid for out of my own pocket. 

Being an independent researcher in my case means running a business, with all the administration, responsibilities, and costs that come with it.

I’m breaking that down for you here, so you’ll get a feeling of how my work (and that of other self-employed specialists) operates.

The hidden costs of jewellery research

What does being an independent researcher mean financially? Here is what I spend resources on.

Let’s start with the very blog you’re reading. Keeping this website and the online course platform running costs, all-in, a substantial amount per year. Simply being visible online and having your infrastructure in place comes with its own baseline costs.

Then there’s travel: visiting exhibitions, or attending conferences all require resources. That’s not just the conference fee or exhibition entrance fees, but also hotels and transportation. I love conferences: it’s always great to meet new people, see old friends, and exchange ideas and knowledge!

Another ongoing investment is my own reference library. Over the years, I’ve built a significant collection of jewellery books and articles – and that continues to grow. With so much AI-generated content swirling around online these days, I find it important to turn to actual books: they offer depth and context that you will not find as easily online.

Side note: contrary to what some might assume (and a few people even have told me outright), reviewing books for this blog isn’t a budget-friendly way to expand that library! In fact, it ties directly into the biggest investment I make in my work: time.

Why time is my most valuable asset

Time is the one resource I need for everything I do. Researching, writing, creating courses or social media content: all of that takes hours, days, even weeks. 

Researching and writing a blog article, including creating the images to go with it, can take up to 3-4 hours. That’s because I include references and want to make sure you get solid information on jewellery. Compiling my monthly Newsletter (subscribe here if you haven’t already!) takes up half a day. The absolutely lovely feedback I receive after each and every emailing tells me that that is time well spent!

However, it’s time I can’t spend elsewhere earning an income.

That is, by the way, why I’m always surprised when asked to give a talk or consultation for free. I truly love sharing knowledge, as you know, and I do my best to keep much of it accessible – but just like everyone else, I have my housing to pay, groceries to buy, and the heating bill to cover. If I could pay my mortgage by delivering a talk at my local bank office…well, let me just say there’d be a lot of jewellery-savy bankers out there by now!

The same goes for book reviews. Receiving a review copy is always a joy: opening the package, flipping through fresh pages, and diving into a new publication is truly exciting. I adore books! But make no mistake: it’s also work. Reading a book with a reviewer’s eye, placing it within the wider field of jewellery studies, and writing a thoughtful, contextual review can take several days.

Long story short: what you see on the blog is the final stage of quite a bit of unseen work behind the scenes. The same holds true for, for example, performers: you don’t see the amount of time spent practicing, studying, inspecting and mending outfits behind their flawless performance.

Sigrid van Roode presents a talk about jewellery from Lebanon in the National Museum of Antiquities, Leiden

The hidden costs of talks

That unseen work behind the scenes is also applicable to talks and lectures. Let’s pick that apart, too, because the amount of work for a talk behind the scenes is not always immediately apparent.

A talk does not begin and end with the hour spent speaking. For in-person talks for example, the travel time to and from the venue may be substantial and take me a full day, even in a tiny country like mine.

Preparing a lecture, especially when it is built from scratch, takes multiple days of research, writing, and assembling a carefully structured slide deck. I don’t just slap some pictures on a slide and be done with it: I want the audience to really enjoy the talk.

So, when you book me (or any independent researcher) for a talk, the fee may seem high for a single hour at a podium, but is below minimum wage for the full working week behind the scenes needed to prepare. That’s the reality of working in the humanities – if I were in tech or sports, I suppose no one would blink twice if I charged the actual time involved.

I think it’s necessary to be honest about the amount of work that goes into preparing a talk, not only to you, but also to ourselves as humanities scholars: if you’re reading this as a speaker and it resonates with you, it’s time to acknowledge that presenting a talk is not something you just wiggle in the rest of your workload.

No grants, no salary: how do I fund my work?

I cover part of these costs through my online courses, which make an important contribution to keeping this work going. If you have taken one of them: thank you so much, honestly!

In addition, I work on commissioned research, such as inventorying and correctly describing museum collections, or writing a dedicated article or book.

Bookings for talks and courses are also a valuable source of support, but, as I explained above, the fees do not cover the actual amount of time involved.

Besides, and that’s another thing you might not think of in the first place, there’s this little thing called taxes. That fee I charge for a talk or a consultation? Nearly half of that goes to income taxes. Unglamourous, I know.

Why I’m sharing this, and how you can help

Why am I sharing this with you?

Not to complain – far from it. I chose this path, I’m proud of what I’ve built, and I love what I do.

Being an independent researcher doesn’t mean swanning around amidst sparkling jewellery.

It means working hard to respectfully study, share, and preserve cultural heritage through careful research and teaching. There is a lot of Orientalist mythmaking out there, and a surge in AI-generated content not necessarily based in facts, so I will continue to do my best to serve you human-researched, factually sound information on jewellery history.

If you’ve found joy, inspiration or insight in my blog articles, Newsletter, or social media content, and would like to support me in other ways than by enrolling in a course, you can do so directly through this link.

Every contribution – big or small – helps to keep the research going and the blog running.

That’s the unglamourous part of being an independent researcher: I hope this peek behind the scenes has given you some insight in the realities of what a jewellery historian does, besides looking at jewellery!

—

Find out more about the meaning of personal adornment in the e-courses!

More posts on jewellery and adornment? Browse them all here!

Join the Jewellery List and receive new articles, jewellery news and more in your inbox!

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Discover more on jewellery today!
The Bedouin Silver blog gives credit where credit is due! Transparent referencing and citing sources helps us all grow. Would you like to do the same and quote this article? Here’s how:

S. van Roode, [write the title as you see it above this post], published on the Bedouin Silver website [paste the exact link to this article], accessed on [the date you are reading this article and decided it was useful for you].

The Bedouin Silver Jewellery Blog: Sigrid van Roode

Sigrid van Roode is an archeologist, ethnographer and jewellery historian. Her main field of expertise is jewellery from North Africa and Southwest Asia, as well as archaeological and archaeological revival jewellery. She has authored several books on jewellery, and obtained her PhD at Leiden University on jewellery, informal ritual and collections. Sigrid has lectured for the National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden, Turquoise Mountain Jordan, and many others. She provides consultancy and research on jewellery collections for both museums and private collections, teaches courses and curates exhibitions. She is not involved in the business of buying and selling jewellery, and focuses on research, knowledge production, and education only. Sigrid strongly believes in accessibility of knowledge, and aims to provide reliable and trustworthy content: that’s why the Bedouin Silver blog provides references and citations.

This blog is free: if you’d like to support independent, self-funded research, please consider enrolling in a course or a jewellery talk, or donate here directly.

The proceeds directly support travel costs, book purchases, and the time needed to wite articles like this one: thank you so much for your support!

Arabic kohl and its material culture: history, tradition and UNESCO recognition

Arabic kohl and its material culture: history, tradition and UNESCO recognition

by | General jewellery topics

Arabic kohl history and tradition

Arabic kohl and its material culture: UNESCO recognition

Published December 12, 2025

Kohl eyeliner has just been recognised as UNESCO intangible cultural heritage.

In December 2025, kohl was inscribed on the UNESCO Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. That is hugely significant, because it recognises the importance of the heritage of adornment. Like henna, which I wrote about in an earlier blog, kohl is much more than a beauty product: it is a practice, a tradition, and a form of expression. So, let’s take a closer look kohl, and what its material culture can tell us about beauty, identity and memory!

Why did UNESCO recognise Arabic kohl as intangible cultural heritage?

First, let’s look at what the World Heritage inscription actually says. The UNESCO description highlights the multi-layered role of traditional kohl in Arab societies:

‘Arabic Kohl is both a craft and a social practice that is integral to the lifestyle of Bedouin and nomadic tribes, as well as rural, marshland, and fishing communities in the Arab region. It is a fine black powder used as eyeliner by people of all genders, serving not only as a cosmetic but also for protection against wind, sand and sunlight. A part of everyday life, special occasions and religious rituals, it is made from natural ingredients, with the preparation varying according to local environments and lifestyles. Kohl is made either at home or in gatherings, mostly by women, who transmit the related knowledge and skills to their daughters and granddaughters. Arabic kohl is typically stored in decorative containers called ‘makhala’, which are often passed down as family keepsakes. The practice is also transmitted through oral traditions, community events, schools and cultural institutions. In addition to being a symbol of community identity and a key part of daily beauty routines, kohl is used as a physical and spiritual healing remedy. It promotes dialogue and fosters meaningful exchanges between nations and communities of women. Kohl-rimmed eyes also serve as a strong form of female expression, particularly in societies where only eyes are visible due to face coverings.’ [1]

This powerful recognition shows that Arabic kohl is a living, breathing tradition. It’s about the how, not just the what. Like henna, the art of applying kohl is not just make-up or beautification. It’s a system of knowledge passed on through generations.

Which countries submitted the nomination for kohl as intangible heritage?

The nomination for kohl as intangible cultural heritage was submitted by a number of countries: Iraq, Jordan, Libya, Oman, Palestine, Saudi Arabia, Syria, Tunisia, and the United Arab Emirates.

Although these are the nations that submitted the nomination, I’d invite you to bear in mind that the practice of kohl exists in a much wider region and in many different forms. The practice of kohl is also not limited to Arabic communities, but is part of many other cultures, too.

Just one example: the oldest form of kohl known to date comes from ancient Egypt, where eye make-up palettes appear at the end of the 4th millennium BCE. Egypt, however, is not among the countries that submitted the nomination of this cultural heritage – that does not automatically mean kohl doesn’t exist in Egypt. That is not what this inscription on the Intangible Cultural Heritage list claims: it is a recognition of a living cultural practice, and in this case, the scope has a narrower geographical reach than that of the actual practice itself.

(but with that long history of kohl, I was personally surprised to see Egypt did not join the nomination)

Kohl as a living tradition

Kohl, obviously, is not a thing of the past, but a living practice. If you have ever visited anywhere in North Africa or Southwest Asia, you’ll have seen it on offer and in use. The recipes vary widely, but the basic goal is the same: to create a smooth, fine black powder. This could be made from something as simple as burnt charcoal, lamp black or pot soot (sarral kohl) or more specialised substances like antimony or galena (athmad kohl).

Application methods of this powder also varied: from saliva and water for everyday use, to rosewater and orange blossom water for more luxurious occasions. In some traditions, aromatic resins such as burnt ambergris, frankincense or ‘ūd (aloeswood) were added to the mix.

The material culture of kohl: containers, adornment, and meaning

Where there’s kohl, there’s a container [2]. These are generally called makhala, and the needle used to apply kohl to the eyes is known as merwad. That’s the same word used for the needle to apply perfumes: merwad means stick, needle.

Besides practical containers, makhala are very important in ceremonial use. In Beit Dajan, Palestine, brides would dance on their wedding while holding their kohl container: person, adornment, social status and object are one and the same.

Elsewhere, kohl was a popular gift from pilgrims returning from the Hajj. This was antimony kohl (athmad) mixed with water from the ZamZam well. Their function here extended beyond cosmetics: they combine religious concepts of purity and cleanliness with adornment.

How kohl containers reflect local values

The form, decoration and materials of kohl containers vary across the region. In some areas, they belong more to the realm of jewellery, made of silver or copper, and intended to be seen. I’ve written about similar practices in Afghan vanity sets in this blog.

They may even have gendered distinctions: men do not generally wear adornment, but kohl is worn by men, women and children. Men, too, had to carry their kohl containers on their person. In those cases, the containers took the shape of masculine attributes: silver bullet-shaped containers or versions of gunpowder horns. That is not to ‘hide’ the fact that men use make-up: kohl containers simply take the form best suited to their wearer.

In other regions kohl containers are part of dress and costume, the container itself covered in fabric. By studying the decoration of these containers and comparing them to regional jewellery styles, we begin to see where these objects fit into personal adornment. Were they worn on a person? Displayed in the house? Kept in private, away from prying eyes? These questions help us understand what these containers meant to their users.

Kohl as identity, resistance and care

While kohl enhances beauty, it also has protective and healing roles, both natural and supernatural. Natural ingredients such as antimony were considered to strengthen and purify the eyes. It also protected against evil spirits, and applying it is an act of purity and cleanliness in itself. This ties into a wider tradition where adornment is protective as well as decorative. If you have been following this blog for a while, you know that is a theme that recurs across jewellery, scent, textiles, body aesthetic and more!

Kohl: a world heritage of adornment

Kohl’s inscription as World Heritage is a recognition of an ancient practice. And as with henna, recognising kohl as intangible cultural heritage brings attention to the people who keep these practices alive: the women who prepare it, apply it, teach it, and wear it. Because heritage is not just objects: the objects are only the material component of something much larger.

Kohl and its containers form part of an entire system of knowledge, care, expression and identity: if we look at them as one component in a network of beliefs, actions and objects, we learn so much more!

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Find out more about the meaning of intangible personal adornment in the e-courses!

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References

[1] See the UNESCO inscription here https://ich.unesco.org/en/RL/arabic-kohl-02261

[2] See Paint it, Black by Jolanda Bos (2019): the only book to date with an extensive overview of kohl containers from past to present.

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The Bedouin Silver Jewellery Blog: Sigrid van Roode

Sigrid van Roode is an archeologist, ethnographer and jewellery historian. Her main field of expertise is jewellery from North Africa and Southwest Asia, as well as archaeological and archaeological revival jewellery. She has authored several books on jewellery, and obtained her PhD at Leiden University on jewellery, informal ritual and collections. Sigrid has lectured for the National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden, Turquoise Mountain Jordan, and many others. She provides consultancy and research on jewellery collections for both museums and private collections, teaches courses and curates exhibitions. She is not involved in the business of buying and selling jewellery, and focuses on research, knowledge production, and education only. Sigrid strongly believes in accessibility of knowledge, and aims to provide reliable and trustworthy content: that’s why the Bedouin Silver blog provides references and citations.

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