Horace says in one of his Satires ‘let’s face it: outside
Rome, the toga is seldom worn’. Even in Rome, people were often not kitted in
their toga. Suetonius tells a story about Augustus that he was on one occasion
walking through the Forum Romanum, when he saw a group of men talking and all
were wearing Gallic-style cloaks (braccae). He went to them and berated the
group, then went home and promulgated a law
that men in the Forum must always wear a toga. In other words, you wore
a toga to perform being Roman (Suetonius, Augustus
40.5).
In earlier times, Roman adult citizens of both sexes wore
togas of undyed wool; this could be homespun with relative ease, and a simple
warm garment fits the Roman self image of toughness and simplicity; after all,
Romulus and the earliest settlers had been shepherds.
But when Roman officials came to Tarantum to demand that
city’s surrender in 282BC, which led to the Pyrrhic Wars, the Tarantines
thought they looked so ridiculous, they not only laughed at them, someone
actually shat on one of the delegation’s toga (Cassius Dio 9.39, discussed in
Mary Beard’s Laughter in Ancient Rome,
pp.4-6; also in Dionysius). Tarantum was the source of the best regarded wool,
which was, we should assume, why Rome wanted the city and why they turned up
dressed in wool. Most wars are about the control of resources.
We can see a distinction between clean and dirty in the
production of clothing; wool and leather were dirty trades. Raw wool is laden
with lanolin, and must be fulled, which involves soaking the fleece in noxious
but effective products, notably human urine, which was taxed. This was a
commercial industrial process performed in a fullonica, illustrated by the Fullonica of Veranius Hypsaeus at
Pompeii, where we can see pieces of wool being hung up to dry on tenterhooks.
Fullonica of Veranius Hypsaeus, Pompeii |
Roman women stopped wearing togas around 200BC and changes
to the men’s toga, with denotations of social rank, also took place This seems
to coincide with the moment the Greeks first paid attention to Rome, and
probably for the same reason: the Battle of Zama. The defeat and annexation of
mighty Carthage made many Romans very rich for the first time. Their women
could afford to stop making their own clothes and buy fashionable Greek styles.
The Romans at the same time stopped writing their literature in Greek and
stopped wearing shapeless, styleless clothes; there was a change to both text
and textiles. Cato the Elder complained (in Latin) that when he was young,
women made the family’s clothes, but now they just bought them, and
consequently the world was going to the dogs.
It did remain a potent symbol of citizenship marriage that a
married woman (matrona) should be portrayed as someone who spun wool. Maybe
some of the poorer ones still did, but the rich dropped that as soon as
finances permitted. Women are regularly depicted on monuments spinning clothes
as a sign on modesty and acceptance of the mos
maiorum. This was clearly an ancient mode: ‘cloth’ derives from Greek
‘Klotho’, the spinner, one of the three Fates.
Klotho, one of the Fates, with her distaff |
We can see the trope of woman as spinner on the tombstone of
Regina, found at South Shields, County Durham. You can see she is portrayed
spinning, with balls of wool by her left foot. But she probably never did it; as the wife of a wealthy Syrian
merchant she wouldn’t have considered it worthy, but it was a symbol of
respectability.
Tombstone of Regina of the Catuvellauni, as a Roman matrona, spinning wool |
From Carlisle comes this devotional statue group of three
mother goddesses, all in short dresses and offering refreshments, including
what look like half baguettes. This is from a Roman civitas capital not far
from the western end of Hadrian’s Wall, and so quite marginal, but it does show
alternative forms of dresses for females.
Three mother goddesses from Gaul, with short skirts |
Slaves wore loins cloths for outdoor work; most slaves
worked as field hands. We can see this on a terracotta tile showing two slaves
roped together around the neck and held by some kind of overseer, who from his
trousers was probably a Gaul or German. Urban male and female slaves wore a
tunic (tunica) to the knees with
short sleeves. This was a practical garment, but by contrast, the toga, being
rather impractical, was a marker of citizen rank. No doubt rich Romans dressed
body servants quite well as a form of potlatch (Wow! If they dress their slaves
better than I can clothe myself, how rich can they be?).
Slaves in loincloths, with overseer in trousers |
The toga could be embellished with a wide purple stripe (toga laticlava), worn only by senators
and certain magistrates. Purple dye, extracted from the murex, a small mollusc found in the Levant. Its rarity and the
difficulty of its extraction made it a perfect symbol of wealth. In Greek
‘Phoenicia’ meant ‘land of purple dye’, and the Punic name for the same area
‘Canaan’ meant the same. While a senator might be able to afford a toga with a
wide purple stripe, all-purple togas (toga
trabea) were reserved for statues of gods and emperors.
The word togatus
carried connotations of civilian status as soldiers wore a sagum cloak of unwashed, lanolin-rich and thus waterproof wool,
dyed red.
Some senior priests wore a toga picta, possibly of Etruscan origins (although it does seem
that anything we can’t understand about the Romans is dumped in the bin marked
‘probably of Etruscan origin’). This had coloured patterns sewn on to it and
seems to have resembled the ornate robes of High Church Anglican and Roman
Catholic priests.
Official in a toga picta |
Roman prostitutes sometimes wore togas, once respectable
women dropped them. It enabled shoulders and legs to be seen and was easily
removed, a sign of sexual availability. Women at toga parties in the US (dating
back only to 1953 and popularised by the movie ‘Animal House’) would appear to
use it for much the same purpose.
In truth, a typical Roman male would wear a tunica, with a woollen cloak (laena) over it.
Man in tunica and laena, buying a potion from a rather Chinese looking sorceress; from Pompeii |
In the following scene
from Pompeii of customers buying loaves at a bread shop, they appear to be
wearing a longer laena and leather
shoes, perhaps hobnailed boots. The boy on the right is barefoot.
Bread shop in Pompeii; note the laena and hobnail boots |
Women’s dress became more complex as Roman women became less
the helpmeet of their husbands or fathers and more trophies to be exhibited,
with the principle that the more elaborate the clothing, the less likely the
wearer was to do actual work in it. Typically over a tunica, a woman wore a floor-length stola, over which was a palla,
a kind of shawl. Her only underwear would be a strophium, a breast band. Layering was very In, even then.
Underwear (induti), seems to be cognate with the Indian
‘dhoti’, which derives from Sanskrit for ‘clean’. What your mother said about
going out in clean underwear seems to have been universal. Kilt-wearing
soldiers regularly wore them for practical reasons (unlike the Scots regiments
of the 19th century, so took pride in not wearing underwear, an
early instance of ‘going commando’).
Romans wore sandals with hobnails (solea, hence the sole of a shoe) much of the time, alternatively
the soccus, a laced shoe without
hobnails, which shows you how technology has hardly changed in 2000 years. The calceus was a hobnailed boot, worn only
by Roman citizens. A Roman citizen would often be buried in his hobnailed
boots, and so they became a marker to archaeologist that the person buried was
a pagan. Heavy-duty ones worn by soldiers were called caligae, from callus,
hardened skin.
Solea with hobnail soles |
Egyptian socks |
Calceus |
Supposedly barbarian people wore trousers, and in colder
climates, so did the Romans. The Roman army by the fourth century AD is
described in detail by Ammianus when parading before Constantius II on one of
his rare visits to Rome. They wore trousers. However, trousers were considered
barbarian wear and often (as in Persian
trousers) effeminate. Honorius took time out from losing to the Goths to pass
laws against men wearing trousers when in Rome (Theodosian Codex 14.10.2-3).
Sumptuary laws (Sumptuariae
leges) assigning types of clothing to rank and citizenship were frequently
passed and just as frequently ignored. It is always the marker of an oppressive
society that laws are passed on such matters. Officially, this was to stop the
numerous lower levels of society from bankrupting themselves in social
competition. But when the question is how many purple stripes do you have on
your toga it’s about social repression.
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