During these days the Kabyles came in numbers to the tents, bringing dresses and jewellery for sale; there was lively bargaining, and we made many purchases.
Before the French came, there were no cotton dresses: these have now become common, but the native woollen cloth is still usually worn.
The men’s dress consists of a woollen tunic, confined at the waist with a belt, and a burnous; on the head is a close-fitting skull-cap, much like those worn by monks; added to this, in the summer time, is a plaited grass hat, very high in the crown, and with a huge brim, which falls into picturesque lines when the hat is old and battered; sandals complete the costume, though men often go barefoot as well as bare-headed. They crop the hair short, for Kabyles are not so careful about shaving as the Arabs.
The burnous is a white woollen cloak with a hood; it is closely woven, is durable, and impervious to heat and cold; an admirable piece of dress, designed with thorough good sense, and suited perfectly to the habits and requirements of the people. Its make is shown in the diagram, which supposes the cloak doubled and laid out flat on the ground. It then forms a quarter of a circle, of which the radius is the length from the neck to the ankle of the wearer, a b. The width of an ample hood is added along one side, and the hood itself forms a square in addition. The three strongly marked lines, A, B, C, show where it is closed. At A, the cloth is doubled, at B and C it is sewn together. From this it will be understood that it is a garment woven all in one piece; no stuff has to be cut off, and thus no labour is wasted in its manufacture.
The tunic or shirt, if doubled and laid out in the same way, forms simply an oblong figure, with holes for the head and arms, and open below.
The burnous is worn in a multitude of ways. One of the ends hanging down in front is thrown across the breast and over the shoulder; or both sides are shortened, by being thrown up on the shoulders; or the cloak, suspended from one shoulder, is passed round the back, across the breast, and tucked under the armpit. Sometimes the hood muffles the head, sometimes it is thrown back, or the seam beneath the chin is put back to the nape of the neck, while one elbow rests in the hood, which then plays the part of a deep pocket. The burnous may also be shortened by hitching it up under the arms, or the corners, knotted together, are slipped up to the chin, or arranged to come at the back of the neck. Indeed, it is twisted about according to fancy and convenience. The Kabyles have one dodge for tucking it up when ploughing; another for making it into a sort of sack to carry forage. When it is hot they wear it one way; another when it is cold. As it is impossible to follow these arrangements by simply watching the people, I got a Kabyle to come for an afternoon and give me a regular lesson. I took notes, twisted a burnous about my person in every conceivable fashion, and felt much impressed with the knottiness of the subject.
The dress of the women is simpler than that of the men; and being adjusted to the wearer’s person in a definite manner, it is, luckily for comprehension, not so confusing as the burnous.
These dresses are called Aabans, and are strong and warm. Some are plain, others have ornamental borders, or broad bands of divers colours worked in geometric patterns; others again are covered all over with such patterns; some are red, some an indigo blue.
Their character and style are of great antiquity, yet no two are quite alike; the individual workwoman, while following a tradition, reserves liberty for her own ingenuity and taste.