Ojibwe Velvet Vest
The vest is a Western-style garment that is placed in an indigenous context. Both beads and velveteen are nonnative materials that were “brought during the fur trade days” (Grover, 2017, 28). The floral patterns on the garment are also adopted from the European tradition; there is, says Kate Duncan, “no archaeological evidence to support a convincing argument that floral design is aboriginal among Native North Americans” (Duncan, 1989, 56). It was the French Ursuline nuns who taught European needlework to young native women, and the new embroidery was “eagerly greeted” and “the wearing of it quickly accorded prestige” (Duncan, 1989, 56). The use of embroidery techniques is also a reminder of dark history of colonialism. It is inextricably tied to the civilizing mission that American colonists were so obsessed with. Duncan quotes the archaeological anthropologist J. Alden Mason, who described “the work done by half-blood women and native girls in the mission schools” as “far superior to purely Native work done by the ‘bush’ Indians” (Duncan, 1989, 58).
Despite the clear influences from Western culture, the Ojibwe Velvet Vest is a native garment, made by the Chippewa for the Chippewa. The Chippewa made the materials and the designs their own and integrated them into their own cultural narrative. Linda LeGarde Grover, author and member of the Minnesota Chippewa tribe, says that the floral patterns “remind [the Chippewa] of the living plants, flowers, and foliage that we walk on as we make our way through life on Earth” — in other words, they are more than mere decoration (Grover, 2017, 28). Furthermore, the beadwork is recycled, which is in line with what Frances Densmore describes as “the thrift of Chippewa women” during the garment making process (Densmore, 1929, 33). Lastly, the vest would have been worn by a Chippewa child on a ceremonial occasion.
At some point, the vest fell into the hands of a Mrs. E. Price Cheyney. There is no available information that explains exactly why she bought the garment. Perhaps she had an interest in indigenous clothing and artifacts. Or maybe she just thought the vest was beautiful. Regardless, the vest changed hands again and ended up with Jacob Paxson Temple, a railway engineer from an old Pennsylvania Quaker family. Temple had in interest in what he described as “Early American Furniture and Objects of Art.” Here, the reason for the collection of the vest is a little more obvious: Temple likely valued the vest for its aesthetics. Paxson’s collection was later sold at auction in New York in January 1922.
In 1928, Haffenreffer hired Foster H. Saville, an archaeologist and buyer for the Heye Foundation, which kicked off a two-year shopping spree during which the vest was probably purchased (Krech, 1994, 65). This, of course, is consistent with Haffenreffer’s method of boxcar collection.
Again, I think that’s important to highlight that fact that I am not a member of the Chippewa. I cannot even begin to speculate as to why the vest was created in the first place or what specific ceremonial purpose it served. I am simply the last in a long line of people who have “owned” the vest in a shallow way. To truly understand the object, we need to re-contextualize it.
Works Cited:
1. Densmore, Frances. “Clothing.” Chippewa Customs, 1970.
2. Duncan, Kate C. Northern Athapaskan Art: a Beadwork Tradition. University of Washington Press, 1989.
3. Grover, Linda LeGarde. “The Ojibwe Word for Moccasin Is ...” Onigamiising: Seasons of an Ojibwe Year, University of Minnesota Press, 2017.
4. Krech, Shepard. “Rudolf F. Haffenreffer and the King Philip Museum.” Passionate Hobby: Rudolf Frederick Haffenreffer and the King Philip Museum, Haffenreffer Museum of Anthropology, Brown University, 1994.
