The Ottoman-style kirdan in the Middle East

The Ottoman-style kirdan in the Middle East

by | Objects

Ottoman jewellery

The Ottoman-style kirdan necklace of the Middle East

Published July 24, 2025

The Ottoman Empire stretched over large parts of North Africa and Southwest Asia. This centuries-long colonisation resulted in jewellery forms that are found all over the region. In this blog, I’ll show you a particular piece that is found with variations throughout the Ottoman world: a choker-like necklace.

What is a kirdan necklace?

The kirdan necklace is a choker-style jewel that forms part of the Ottoman jewellery repertoire. The original ornament is of a type widely used in the 19th century. With regional variations, it was worn from Tunisia to Turkey as well as beyond, on Cyprus, in Greece, and in the Balkans. In the cities, wealthy urban ladies would wear theirs in gold; rural ladies would resort to gilt silver or simply silver, depending on the fashion and traditions of their region.

The ornament consists of a choker-like band of repoussé segments. These may be fastened on to a fabric band, which is tied around the neck or closed with a loop-and-knot, or strung together to form an interlinking band itself. Usually, from the choker multiple pendants are dangling, and it is in the variations and differences of these that we may see regional preferences.

Regional variations of the kirdan

This ornament is generally called kirdan, but goes by many names. Let’s look at some regional variations next!

A postcard from Tunisia, showing a woman in traditional dress and jewellery. She is wearing the chiriyya necklace and pennanular brooches.

The chiriyya in Tunisia and Libya

In North African jewellery traditions, notably in Tunisia and Libya, this ornament went by chiriyya (also spelled chairiyya). In Tunisia, they are worn notably in the southeast, from the town of Sfax onwards. [1] In Libya, they were mainly produced in Tripoli, by artisans who catered to the east coast of Tunisia as well as to Libyan towns and tribes as well. [2]

The choker had a yellow fabric backing, on which the individual segments were sewn. In the centre of the band a square ornament featured. From the choker, large pendants were suspended, and in the centre one or multiple crescent-shaped pendants, executed in filigree, fell onto the chest.

The chiriyya notably does not carry coins, and does not have a central element on the band itself, which sports only the repoussé segments.

Detail of the central part of an Egyptian kirdan on the Bedouin Silver website. This image is part of a research article on the Ottoman-style kirdan in the Middle East.

The kirdan in Egypt: kirdan or kirdan hilali

In Egypt, the necklace is known as kirdan (also spelled kerdan) or kirdan hilali. Here, the segments flank a central element sewn on the band, usually a rectangular or square piece. In the centre, a central pendant falls on the chest: usually, a crescent or a set of tiered crescents, which is where it gets its name from: kirdan hilali means kirdan with crescents. They may be set with small turquoise beads, and the segments themselves are threaded through with red thread. Egypt also uses coins on the kirdan pendants.

The first photo shows a painting of a woman wearing such a necklace: more on her and her jewellery is in this blog!

Coastal Southwest Asia: the kirdan in the Levant

Palestine, western Jordan, Lebanon and western Syria all form part of the Bilad as-Sham, and share a cultural continuum that predates modern borders. Regional variations may extend beyond current borders, and in general trying to delineate exact attributions here is difficult. [3]

The kirdan was worn by both city-, village- and Bedouin women. Finer pieces in gold would be worn by urban women. Compared to North African variations, the coastal Southwest Asian variation generally have more and larger segments – and we also find innovative forms for women who could not afford as many silver or gold segments. They would add beads between the segments, so the kirdan required less precious metal. An example of such a simpler kirdan is shown below.

The kirdan of coastal Southwest Asia uses coins, and has a large variation in forms for the central element on the band.

The kirdan in Syria

For current-day Syria, Kalter notes that the individual segments for the band were purchased directly from silversmiths in Aleppo and Damascus by women themselves, who would then sew them on to a fabric band of their choosing. [4] Below the neck band, a row of coins or imitation coins jingles, and in the centre a single pendant such as crescent or inscribed amulet may hang. The central part of the band could also include a filigree square or rectangle, such as the example above shows, or a colourful red and blue ornament.

The kirdan in Jordan

In El-Kerak, the necklace was called kirdan migwiz. [5] In between the repoussé segments on the band, one or three filigree boxes were present in the central part of the band. Below the band, long silver elements with coins were suspended, and at the front, again one or three elaborate crescent pendants could hang.

The kirdan in Palestine

In Palestine, the necklace went by kirdan. They were made in several places, such as Nablus, but also in Irbid and el-Kerak but worn in Palestine [6] – again, the borders of today have little bearing on the past and the cultural reality is much more varied. In Nablus, the coin pendants are shorter than in El-Kerak. In the centre, an ornament of small tiered crescents fell on the chest. [7] In the Galilee, the coin pendants were similarly short, but the ornament itself also featured very long silver chains with multiple triangular pendants. In the centre of the ornament, the silver chains connected multiple crescent pendants. The style of the pendants is widespread in a larger region, including Syria.

The kirdan in Eastern Southwest Asia

Eastern Jordan and Syria, bordering on Iraq, were a bit more distant from the Ottoman world – the Ottoman sphere of influence mainly concentrated around the Mediterranean littoral. But we see cultural influences nonetheless, where Ottoman forms travelled on trade routes and gradually developed into styles of their own. In Kurdistan the choker was still worn, and the dangles often take the shape of fish – a form also encountered further on in Afghanistan.

Black and white photo of Egyptian dancer Taheyya Carioca with a a gold-coloured kirdan necklace on her hip.

Stage forms of the kirdan

One particular use of the kirdan is in an exaggerated version as stage jewellery. This was worn by dancers, mainly in Egypt. From the mid-19th century onwards, we see the kirdan in its usual size worn by dancers. The image above shows a phot of such a dancer (click to enlarge it). Around the turn of the century, the hilal pendants started to get larger, and from the 1950s onwards, entertainers would be wearing huge kirdans – of course, its sight really adds to the performance! [8]

A bracelet made of a repurposed kirdan necklace.

Repurposing of the kirdan

Because they fell out of fashion at some point, you may come across repurposed kirdans. They have often been divided up into bracelets.

The legacy of Ottoman kirdan chokers: forgotten heritage

The general Ottoman origin of this piece appears to be increasingly forgotten, and the reality of cultural interaction is hindered by thinking in today’s borders.

It is virtually impossible to distinguish between Tunisian and Libyan chiriyya, because the craftsmen that made them operated in both countries and pieces made in one country would be sold on a market in the other.

Likewise, trying to determine whether a piece is Syrian or Jordanian does not make much sense, as most likely, it was produced before either country as we know it today existed. Rather, it would be better to see if a place of production could be determined, in the full knowledge that from there, it may have been traded to at least 4 different countries as they exist today.

These pieces of jewellery remind us of a shared heritage. That is the historical jewellery value they continue to carry, and I do love how they took on a new life and new meanings on their own in the various parts of the Ottoman realm!

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References

[1] S. Gargouri-Sethom 1986. Le Bijou Traditionnel en Tunisie, p. 24, with examples.

[2] S. Gargouri-Sethom 1986. Le Bijou Traditionnel en Tunisie, p. 65; Ghellali, H. 2024. Jewellery and Adornment of Libya. Blikveld Uitgevers Publishers, Zandvoort

[3] J. Kalter, M. Pavaloi & M. Zerrnickel (eds) 1992. The Arts and Crafts of Syria, p. 81 already notes this.

[4] J. Kalter, M. Pavaloi & M. Zerrnickel (eds) 1992. The Arts and Crafts of Syria, p. 90, with examples.

[5] Pracht und Geheimnis, p. 388-389.

[6] J. Rahab 1989. Palestinian Costume, p. 121.

[7] Pracht und Geheimnis, p. 265.

[8] See this reel by Heather D. Ward on the kirdan in dance costumes

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.

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Amazigh fibulas of North Africa

Amazigh fibulas of North Africa

by | Objects

Dress and jewellery

Amazigh fibulas of North Africa: jewellery and identity

Published June 24, 2025

It’s the most iconic piece of Amazigh jewellery in North Africa: the fibula or clothing fastener. From the Atlantic coast of Morocco to the oases of Libya, Amazigh fibulas are both functional and highly symbolic. What is more, they reflect regional identities, social structures, and even showcase connections between landscape, dress, and daily life. So, let’s have a look at these beautiful objects of adornment!

What are Amazigh fibulas? Use, names & regional styles

What are Amazigh fibulas used for? Fibulas basically serve as fasteners. You’ll find them used on a variety of garments, including outer wraps, shawls, and head coverings. Their forms vary by region and community, ranging from simple functional items to more elaborately worked items that may also carry symbolic meaning.

While you may find them repurposed into pendants, that is not how they were used originally: they really are pins!

That capacity of joining two things together is also why there is also a lot of informal ritual involving fibulas: see more about that here!

A silver and enamel fibula from the Tiznit region, Morocco
A selection of beautiful silver fibulas from the Maghreb, against a brilliant blue background.

What is the correct term for Amazigh fibulas?

The term fibula is obviously not local; it comes from Latin, where it referred broadly to a clasp or brooch used to fasten clothing. The use of garment pins dates back much earlier, though – examples made from metal and bone have been found in Bronze Age contexts across Europe, the Mediterranean, and North Africa.

The specific form most common in North Africa today, the rotating ring-and-pin mechanism, is associated with Roman innovations in clothing fasteners. These Roman-era brooches, widely distributed across the empire, introduced a functional design that remained in use and was adapted across different cultures over time.

While fibula is the standard term used in archaeological and art historical literature, the objects themselves are known by a range of local names in Amazigh communities. In Morocco, they are referred to as tizerzai or tisernas; in Algeria, terms such as adwir or tabzimt are used; and in Tunisia and Libya, they are commonly known as khlel. These vernacular terms reflect linguistic diversity, but also a regional variation in design and use.

Anatomy of a fibula: ring, pin, head, and variation

The most common type of fibula found in North Africa is based on the penannular brooch design. That is a ring that is incomplete or open at one point. A typical fibula consists of three main components:

1. The head: a terminal or decorative element at the end of the pin;

2. The ring: a circular or penannular ring;

3. The pin itself.

These elements are visible in the illustration above.

The large crescent-shaped fibulas of Libya and Tunisia follow the same design, but have no head: in these types, the ring is aggrandized to the point where it also becomes the eye-catcher.

How do you actually fasten a fibula…?

That’s a question I get asked a lot – so, here is how! To fasten a garment, the pin is pushed through two the layers of fabric that you’ll want to secure together. Push the pin through and bring it back to the front by perforating the fabrics again: by pushing it through and through, you’ll end up with the head of the pin and its lower half visible on the outside of your garment. Once in place, rotate the ring so that the pin lies across the gap in the ring. Push the pin through the gap, and twist the ring so the opening moves away from the pin itself. The tension between the ring and the fabric holds the pin securely, preventing it from slipping out. This design allows the fibula to act as both a clasp and a visual feature of the garment.

Here is a quick video showing you how it’s done! (click this link, and then scroll down to the bottom of the page)

Spendid silver fibula set from Algeria

Amazigh fibulas and dress

Obviously, fibulas are integrated with the textiles they secure. That in turn tells you a lot about those textiles just by looking at the pins themselves. Heavier, more substantial fibulas are used with robust fabrics, while lighter versions suggest finer or differently structured cloth.

The outer garments they secure are wraps: garments that envelop the body and shoulders. In winter, these would be heavy, wool wraps, and in summer they might be lighter fabrics.

You will notice that the heads of the fibulas are the heaviest part of the piece. That tells you where they would have been placed: not at the upper end, as you often see them in books, but at the lower end. The pins themselves stick out upwards, the head is pointed downwards. That is an important difference between theory and practice: fibulas are almost invariably depicted with their heads upwards and their pins downwards, but that is not how they would have been worn in real life!

How fibulas reflect Amazigh identity

Fibulas are part and parcel of the cultural practices of Amazigh communities. They are not simply adornments, but part of a broader visual and symbolic language that links body, clothing, architecture, and environment. And you know that is how I love to study jewellery: in its cultural context!

Because this allows us to understand how material culture communicates identity, memory, and place, rather than just admiring them as beautiful objects in a showcase.

This interconnectedness is of course very evident in recurring patterns and motifs. The same geometric forms found on fibulas frequently appear on carpets, blankets, pottery, and woodwork, suggesting a shared visual vocabulary across media.

But there is much more. Fibulas offer further insights into the world of their wearers, especially through the design of the pin head or terminal. This is the most visually prominent part of the fibula, and it often serves as a marker of regional or communal identity. Its shape and decoration vary by area, village, or group, allowing the piece to signal belonging and local affiliation.

These terminal forms often reference features from the wearer’s environment. They literally show us what that environment looked like, or what iys wearers considered important.

Some derive from animal forms, for example, the ram’s head motifs found in fibulas worn by the Ihahen of coastal Morocco, which may evoke associations with pastoral life. Others reflect built structures: domed tombs, arched doorways, or the stepped crenellations of kasbah walls.

These visual echoes suggest that fibulas do not only exist in relation to the body, or even just in relation to dress, but also participate in a wider cultural landscape – drawing meaning from the world around them and embedding that meaning into daily dress.

How fabulous is that, when your dress and jewellery fit into your surroundings…?

Amazigh fibulas today: living heritage & revival

Although Amazigh fibulas are no longer commonly worn in daily life, they still carry meaning. They are living heritage, and continue to be produced for ceremonial use, like local festivals, as well as for tourist markets. The fibula itself appears on beauty products, metalwork, and doors. It has grown into a symbol of Amazigh identity, notably in the diaspora – Amazigh fibulas of North Africa are still deeply meaningful and continue to evolve.

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References

Read more on fibulas and their cultural meaning here (not exhaustive, there is much more out there!):

Benfoughal, T. 1997. Bijoux et Bijoutiers de l’ Aurès. CNRS Editions, Paris

Cheylan, G. (ed.) 2007. Coutumes et décors de Tunisie. Ceres Éditions, Tunis

Eudel, P. 1906. Dictionnaire des Bijoux d’Afrique du Nord. Maroc, Algérie, Tunisie, Tripolitaine. Ernest Léroux, Paris

Gargouri-Sethom, S. & J. Pérez 2005. Les Bijoux de Tunisie. Dunes Editions, Tunis El Hafsia

Ghellali, H. 2024. Jewellery and Adornment of Libya. Blikveld Uitgevers Publishers, Zandvoort

Tamzali, W. 1984. Abzim. Parures et Bijoux des femmes d’Algérie. Dessain et Tolra, Entreprise algérienne de presse, Algers

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.

Jewelry and Adornment of Libya

Jewelry and Adornment of Libya

by | Cultures & People, Reviews

Libyan jewellery in depth

Jewelry and Adornment of Libya

Published on November 8, 2024

Libya is home to spectacular jewellery, but very few books are currently available on the jewellery heritage of this country. That has now changed with the much-anticipated arrival of Jewelry and Adornment of Libya: a book that fills a huge gap – and in more ways than one!

Jewelry and Adornment of Libya: a personal view

The author of this book, Hala Ghellali, is from Libya herself: she was born and raised in Tripoli. This is where she first encountered silver jewellery as a young woman, when her father took her to the souq to purchase silver bracelets for her. Personal memories like this form the starting point of the book, but Hala’s background is much wider. You may have read her essay in the Postcard Women’s Imaginarium book, for example.

She was schooled in Tripoli, studied in France, and then moved to Italy, Egypt, Syria and finally, the USA. She is fascinated by Libyan history, both the tangible and the intangible (like poetry or proverbs), and has conducted research into jewellery and adornment for years.

What do you get when someone like that writes a book? A super rich, very detailed book that (at least for me) hits all the important nails on the head when it comes to jewellery research.

Jewelry and Adornment of Libya: the outline

Let me start with one of my hangups: references. You know I love references! Sharing one’s sources when making a claim is very helpful when one wants a book to contribute to common knowledge, and simply necessary when one wants to enable future research. Jewelry and Adornment of Libya is referenced, and here’s the beauty of it: it references sources in Arabic, Italian, French, and English, and provides clear references as to which silversmith shared which piece of information, anecdote or memory with the author. That is different for Libyan Jewellery – A Journey Through Symbols by Elena Schenone Alberini (1998) for example: this has a bibliography, but is not referenced.  

This kaleidoscope of sources results in a solid basis for the research in this book. Hala effortlessly combines observations from travel diaries with patent books, colonial legislation with oral history and poetry, museum pieces with personal memories. This variety brings you a book that is packed with facts and insights on the context of jewellery – absolutely crucial if we want to understand the jewellery itself.

The book is roughly structured in three main parts: the world of jewellery producers, the world of jewellery wearers, and wedding customs in Tripoli. So, let me take you on a quick tour!

Libyan jewellery: the silversmiths

The first three chapters of the book discuss the history of Libyan silversmithing. Here, the book differs notably from Schenone Alberini’s book: these chapters really dive in the history of jewellery production. First, a chapter on jewellery in archaeological excavations and travel diaries outlines the sources that exist for the history of jewellery in Libya. Interestingly, these also include reports by merchants, shedding light on the transactional context of jewellery: who buys and sells these things, and for how much?

Next is a chapter on the production of jewellery itself, both in its historic context as well as detailing techniques. The wealth of historic background is incredibly enlightening. Just one example is how we learn about the close relations between the Jewish silversmithing communities of both Tripoli and Djerba in Tunisia. As so often the case, colonial borders mess with transregional cultural identities: in the case of Tripoli and Djerba, these two communities became so closely entangled that much of the southern Tunisian jewellery was hallmarked in Tripoli. This chapter picks apart how political and economic developments affected both the Jewish and Muslim silver business over time.

I can’t emphasise enough how relevant this is – I see so many online sources and discussions on social media claiming that a piece of jewellery belongs to either this or that nationality, without consideration for the historical context, that it is nothing short of refreshing to see someone patiently walking us through the history of it all and presenting us with a nuanced, detailed view.

There is much more in this chapter: guild organisation, the various arts and crafts production centres, techniques and forms, terminology used by both Jewish and Muslim jewellery makers, all against their shifting historic and cultural backgrounds.

And then there is hallmarks! You know I adore my copy of World Hallmarks Volume II, the fabulous overview of hallmarks from non-Western countries. But Libya is missing from this overview. Schenone Alberini does present hallmarks and adds drawings of both hallmarks and amin stamps, but has difficulty organising the hallmarks chronologically – another gap sorted with Jewelry and Adornment of Libya. Here, we learn of the development of hallmarks throughout and after the Italian colonial period, the difference between hallmarks and master silversmith stamps, and the challenges in attempting to organise hallmarks diachronically.

Libyan jewellery: from head to toe

The book then continues with ten chapters devoted to jewellery itself. From head jewellery to waistcoat buttons to belts, anklets and slippers, in these pages you will find an abundance of jewellery – and its stories. Each piece of jewellery is presented with its vernacular name, there are poetry and song references throughout, and here again, everything is discussed in its historic timeframe. For many names, their linguistic origin is also given, which helps a lot in understanding what these names mean and why specifically they are chosen for a particular object.

These chapters are so rich in their descriptions that I don’t even know where to begin. Let me just say that when you read it all, you will get so much more than just jewellery. There are customs and practices, sayings and Qur’an citations, beliefs and glimpses into everyday life. And the photos! The entire book is lavishly illustrated, with images of private collections that have not been published before, but also with photos of how jewellery is actually worn.

As if that was not enough, the final chapter presents jewellery customs related to engagement and marriage in the city of Tripoli. Illustrated with vintage photos of actual wedding ceremonies, this essay brings us customs and habits that have since disappeared, and as such, this forms yet another important documentation of jewellery in its living, breathing context.

Libyan jewellery research: just in time

That sense of disappearing traditions is present throughout the book. In the epilogue, Hala shares the difficult road towards the publication of this book. For one, archives are not always accessible: in 2011, the political situation changed drastically, resulting in difficult times for those living and working in Libya. Another part of the challenges was the unescapable fact that the last generation of both wearers and silversmiths is disappearing rapidly. Who still remembers songs, customs, memories from before the Second World War? And even more relevant: who is willing to actually share these?

This is a challenge we see everywhere around the globe, and this book illustrates how important it is to incorporate this disappearing knowledge before there is no one left to ask. One of the things I really value is how this book pays it forward to future researchers by including an long list of Tripolitan silver- and goldsmiths in the appendix: we may not yet know when exactly they practised their craft, or what their makers’ mark looks like, but at least, this provides us with a starting point in preserving their names and their memory.

Glossary of jewellery terms

There is even more to this book, I’m not done yet. For me, one of the highlights is the glossary of jewellery terms in Arabic at the end of the book. For those of us who do not master Arabic, these four pages with terminology for everything from earrings to anklets are a major asset. You remember that e-book with jewellery search terms in 7 languages I created to help you expand your online search results? This glossary is a big help with the Arabic terms – do note that it is Libyan Arabic, so regionally spoken, but it is very insightful nonetheless.

So far, you’ll have noticed that I’m gushing. Is there no comment to be made at all…? Very few, if I’m being honest.

If I could ask for anything more, it would be a map of Libya and its neighbouring countries to help visualise where, for example, Djerba and Siwa are relative to Tripoli. As an archaeologist, I would have liked to see more diachronic backup for the explanation of some forms of symbolism: up until now, no one has convincingly shown that some forms of pre-Islamic symbolism, like the triangle for Tanit or the cross-in-circle pendant, have indeed been present as such in jewellery continuously. I lean towards the thought that this is more a case of revival than survival, but that is me. And well, ok, final comment, the green font for quotes is at times difficult to read.

But that’s it – the book design is beautiful, the weight of the paper has a sumptuous feel to it, and it’s a good thing that this is a hardback edition: I’m going to be leafing through it quite often.

For those that would want to compare this to Schenone Alberini’s book: that is gorgeous, too, no shade! But Jewelry and Adornment of Libya goes beyond, is more detailed and specific. I found that reading Jewelry and Adornment of Libya helped me place Schenone Alberini’s book in more context, and increased my understanding of Libyan jewellery significantly.

Jewelry and Adornment of Libya: a treasure of a book

The author writes that creating an exhaustive catalogue has not been her intention: the book gravitates around Tripoli (but does include many other places in the jewellery chapters), there is always more research to be done, and she hopes that researchers will build upon this work. I hope so, too! And with Jewelry and Adornment of Libya, the standard is set high.

Because with this book, you will get far more than a catalogue with Libyan jewellery. You will get a valuable record of the world in which this jewellery existed: its social, cultural, historical and economic context. This is one of the best recent books on traditional jewellery I have read, also because of its clear referencing – and as you know, I have read quite a few. So, whether you are from Libya yourself, a collector, curator or scholar working with traditional jewellery: go on and treat yourself to this book before it ends up out of print!

More about Jewellery and Adornment of Libya

Jewelry and Adornment of Libya By Hala Ghellali, 2024. 180 pages, full colour, English.

Published by BLKVLD Uitgevers Publishers.

Available with the publisher: see here how to order

I received the book as review copy.

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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.

Scented paste jewellery of North Africa

Scented paste jewellery of North Africa

by | Objects

Skhab beads

Scented paste jewellery of North Africa

Updated November 25, 2024

Beads made of scented paste—known in the Maghreb as skhab—are among the most evocative items of personal adornment in North Africa. In this blog post I explore scented‑paste jewellery from Tunisia and Algeria, examining how fragrance, craft and cultural meaning come together in these unique beads. Rather than a simple inventory of pieces, we’ll look at their making, their wearing, and their place in Maghrebi social life.

Wearing scent: origins and cultural context in the Maghreb

Why wear scented jewellery in the first place? For this, we need to look at the role fragrance plays culturally. Fragrance in North Africa is much more than just spritzing on a perfume.

In informal religion, scent was considered powerful as an amulet. Incense in general was believed to keep malevolent spirits at a distance. [1] And because agreeable scents were seen as a manifestation of benign beings, wearing fragrance was a powerful way of keeping evil away.

The use of scent and personal grooming falls in the category of ‘recommended’ behaviour for Muslims, although its application varies per branch of Islam. Several hadīth underline the beneficial effects of perfume, relating how the Prophet also scented his clothing by fumigation and never refused perfumes. [2]

On important religious occasions, personal cleanliness was mandatory. This extended not only to the body, but also to clothing worn: an example from early 20th century Morocco observes that clothing was perfumed with rosewater and orange blossom water or fumigated with incense. [3]

Photocollage showing antique photo of a Tunisian woman and scented herbs, woods and flowers
Necklace of scented beads from Tunisia, with gold beads.

Scented paste in the Maghreb: beads

In Tunisia and Algeria, and to a lesser extent in Morocco and Libya as well, scent was added to jewellery in a beautiful way. [4] Here, a scented paste is worked into beads, generally called skhab. [5]

The beads were produced at home, but you could also buy them in specialized ateliers in the sūqs. In home production, recipes were handed down from mother to daughter and adapted to personal tastes. [6] As a result, the fragrance of these beads would be the signature scent of the wearer and her family.

Collage of a vintage photo of an Algerian lady mixing herbs against a background of colourful flowers and herbs.

The craft of skhab: ingredients

What did these beads smell like…? The bouquet itself was created by carefully selecting and combining aromatic ingredients. Cedarwood, sandalwood and ‘ūd created warm woody undertones. Cloves, saffron, rosemary and thyme were among the herbs used to add a spicy layer, while roses, preferably the strong scenting Rosa damascena, jasmine, lavender and patchouli added floral notes.

All of these were dried and pulverized. Pulverizing itself would take up a significant amount of time, as the powder had to be as finely ground as possible.

This was before the blender existed: everything had to be ground by hand! You’d want the fragrant powder to be as fine as possible: any larger lumps would present a problem in the polishing of the beads, later in the process.

So, after much grinding and regrinding, the fragrant powder was then slowly mixed with rosewater or orange blossom water.

When all of the water was absorbed, and this could take up to a week (!) it would be ground again. That procedure was repeated until a paste was created. [7]

Finally, a binding agent such as odoriferous resin, date paste or Arabic gum was added. You would boil the mixture slowly on a low fire, until it turned into a smooth paste.

Scented paste of North Africa: bead-making

While the paste was still warm, and gave off its sumptuous scent, women would start shaping the beads. The simplest beads were spherical, but experienced hands created a variety of shapes like hearts, fish, stars, crescents and flowers. Their size varied from tiny beads to quite sizable examples.

All these beads would be spread out on a tray and put somewhere to rest and dry, like in the window sill or on a table. Never in direct sunlight though: that would cause them to dry too fast and they would break.

When the beads had dried for a few days, they were still soft enough to be perforated, yet solid enough to keep their shape and not fall apart during the process.

After a month, the beads would be polished smooth and strung with a variety of other beads such as glass, coral, amber and silver into necklaces, or worn as earrings, hair ornaments and brooches. [8]

Creating these beads was an entirely female affair. It also served as introduction into a woman’s world for the daughters of the family: while wearing these beads was considered inappropriate for girls, the long days spent creating them was a time for chatting, gossiping and learning about the intimacies of married life.

Scented paste in adornment: hairstyles and bracelet lining

Scented paste was not only used for beads! Another practical way of applying it is on the inside of bracelets. The movements of the bracelet over the warm skin in would release the fragrance.

An additional benefit was that the thick layer of paste smoothed out any rough edges and prevented the skin from getting pinched between several heavy bracelets.

Remnants of this paste may sometimes still be visible on the inside of a bracelet: as this is not dirt, but an essential part of its life, I recommend checking for it before you start cleaning jewellery: see more about that here.

Scented paste was also worked into hairstyles, notably in Morocco: here, too, remnants of scented paste can still be found on ornaments worn in the hair. The gallery above shows such an example: click to enlarge the image, and see how the patches of ‘dirt’ may actually be leftovers from something that once smelled divine!

Social and ritual significance of scented paste beads: weddings and women

In Tunisia and Algeria, the scented beads were worn by a bride for the first time: their use is specifically for married women. They reflect the intimacy of married life and carry a strong connotation of sensuality.

The importance of these is well explained by an Algerian woman: ‘A woman that does not possess a necklace of scented beads, is not a woman’ – unmarried girls did not wear fragrant beads, as their sensual capacities were inappropriate for their social position. [9]

That these necklaces were more than just ornaments, is illustrated by the cultural restrictions surrounding their use. Algerian women did not wear their scented bead necklaces when their husband was away; when he was absent for a longer period of time, the necklaces were stored in a box.[10]

Even just showing them to female friends was done very privately: you would not want another man accidentally to catch a whiff of their scent. [11]

Sumptuous scented beads witha gold meskia perfume pendant
A beautiful gold meskia from Tunisia.

Scented paste beads today: tradition, production and trade

Today, the large necklaces with scented paste are still a very important part of weddings in the Maghreb. Scented beads are now mainly produced by specialized ateliers in the sūqs.[12] These ateliers run a good business, as procuring these beads is a necessity for engagement and wedding festivities. You’ll find them strung with lavish perfume containers known as meskia: see more about these delicious jewels here.

Wearing scented beads is an old tradition that is still in use, and that is much more than just aesthetics: perfume jewellery is a profound cultural expression.

More about the many uses of scent, wearing fragrant jewels and the art of incense fumigation is in the e-course Scents of the Middle East: a full exploration of the invisible side of adornment!

Collage of a smiling woman from Egypt, wearing gold earrings, with dewy rose petals, jasmine and lilies. A bright yellow text box reads 'Scents of the Middle East'

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Want to learn how fragrance plays a role in jewellery and adornment? My book Silver & Frankincense explores this in depth!

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

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References

[1] Interestingly, in early Christianity the opposite was the case: incense was believed to attract demons. This stance towards incense was related to the Roman practice of burning incense to honour the gods and the emperor, and only changed centuries later in Late Antiquity. See Lallemand 2008.

[2] Kanafani 1983, pp. 293-294.

[3] Westermarck 1911, p. 131.

[4] Mershen 2009, p. 59; Zimmerle 2014, pp. 416-417; Becker 2000, p. 182.

[5] According to Eudel’s Dictionnaire des Bijoux, the name is particularly used in Algeria and Tunisia for scented beads; in other regions it generally indicates a necklace.

[6] Filali 2001; Benfoughal 1997, p. 91-92.

[7] Opper 2015, p. 22. The process could take up to 40 days. See these videos by Charlotte Dakin-Norris to make your own!

[8] Opper 2015, p. 22.

[9] Tamzali 1984, p. 41; Benfoughal 1997, p. 139. In Algeria’s Kabylia, however, girls would wear a necklace made of amber called lūban or ‘incense’. Although the necklace itself did not carry scent, the name hints at the stage in life preceding the one in which she soon would wear real scented jewellery. Eudel 1906 Dictionnaire des Bijoux, p. 121.

[10] Benfoughal 1997, p. 139.

[11] Benfoughal 1997, p. 142.

[12] Gargouri-Sethom & Perez 2005, p. 123-125.

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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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Djerba gilded pendants

Djerba gilded pendants

by | Objects

Tunisian jewellery

Gilded and enameled pendants from Djerba

Published Feb 07, 2024

A selection of pendants from Tunisia, that show how jewellery may be reflecting the world of its wearers in its design. These illustrate the relation you might not think of immediately: that between jewellery, and architecture.

A set of Djerba pendants

In the gallery above, you’ll see a series of photos of a collection of square pendants. They were collected in Sousse, Tunisia, and clicking on the images will enlarge them, so you can take in their gorgeous details.

What do we know of these? All of them are made of silver. The majority have been gilded, and some are finely embellished with enamel. Enameling is characteristic of jewellery from Djerba: according to Gargouri-Sethom the art of enameling almost disappeared after the second World War, when many Jewish craftspeople moved to Israel. [1]

These pendants would be worn in sets of five, on a necklace with coral and lapis lazuli beads strung on woolen cord. The ensemble is called malāb (sometimes also spelled malaab) and was worn in Djerba, Tunisia. [2] A red fabric backing makes the design stand out even more: in an original stringing, it would match the red woolen cord.

Djerba necklace: reading the design

That design is after the mihrab or prayer niche. [3] This is the niche in every mosque that indicates the direction of Mecca. That is the direction that is prayed in, so this is a primary architectural element. It is often beautifully ornamented. Including it in jewellery brings the necklace and its wearer into the realm of faith and religion.

And there are more elements that serve to enhance its meaning. As you see (click on an image to enlarge it), each pendant repeats the mihrab motif three times, and has three dangles.

The presence of five of these on the necklace is also significant: it refers to the 5 daily prayers and the 5 pillars of Islam. ⁠The deliberate inclusion of the number five is another form of wearing a khamsa.

See why a khamsa does not always have to be in the shape of a hand here.

The red fabric and woolen cord also help keep evil at a distance: the colour red has been used as primary colour to fight evil for millennia.

Djerba pendants: the value of collecting

As you see, these are all different, even if ever so slightly: their collectors loved the shapes and collected them for their differences, not to complete a set.⁠ That is another angle of collecting than striving for completion and perfection: the choices you make as a collector have an impact on what a collection is going to look like.

So, these may not contain a complete set, but they certainly do hold information value. They showcase the variety and the skill of the craftsmen that made these, and in that way this collection adds to our understanding of Tunisian jewellery beautifully.⁠

And they also tell us what happened to these necklaces. Eventually they were broken up and their beautiful coral and lapis lazuli beads sold individually. The pendants have been sold separately as well for a long time, and found their way into the available literature as such, too. [4]

So you see, even loose bits and pieces may contribute to the history of its wearers!

These pendants are in the Van Dam-Canton Tunisian heritage collection of the Qilada Foundation.⁠

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References

[1] S. Gargouri-Sethom1986, Le Bijou Traditionnel en Tunisie, Edisud, p. 50.

[2] N. Baklouti, Les bijoux d’Argent de Tunisie, Office National de l’ Artisanat, p. 124.

[3] N. Baklouti, Les bijoux d’Argent de Tunisie, Office National de l’ Artisanat p. 124;  Les Bijoux de Tunisie, Dunes Editions, p. 146.

[4] Les Bijoux de Tunisie, Dunes Editions, p. 152 also shows individual, different pendants as collected items.

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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].

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. 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.