Gloves, Past and Present

by Willard M. Smith

The skilled cutter’s work is done, and the pieces of leather he has cut are called tranks. The cutter must know, of course, whether the tranks he is producing are for overseam, piqué or prick-seam gloves, as each requires a different pattern. The fragments of leather left from the skins after the tranks are cut are used as far as possible for cutting hems, bindings, fourchettes and “hearts,” which latter is the technical name for the little “stay” at the bottom of the wrist opening. And certainly there is very little of the skin which is not utilized after all these items are subtracted. One would hardly realize what a jig-saw puzzle, and in how many intricately fitting parts, a glove actually is, until he paused to examine one and to count the different sections which must be shaped and cut out to go into its making.

Next, the calibres demand our attention. These are the knives which really cut the tranks into the shape of gloves and might, perhaps, be called dies. They run, of course, in sizes; and the process might be likened to the old-fashioned way of cutting cakes out of dough with a tin cover, except that in stamping out gloves the position is reversed. The calibre is locked into a heavy machine with the sharp steel knife-edges up, and the tranks laid on top. A lever is pulled, a heavy weight descends, and the cut gloves are then ready to sew.

Calibres are by no means uniform. That is to say, all manufacturers do not use the same kind; and among the leading, large manufacturers, each has his own cut, or set of calibres, differing from all others in some one or more points. For example, one manufacturer will have the fingers of his gloves made longer or shorter than the average; another will have all the fingers gussetted, while another will have no gussets, not even at the gore of the thumb. Still another has a cut with a specially short little finger—and so on. This results in a very wide variety of “cuts” in gloves, and each manufacturer of standard make is satisfied, and thinks his own is the best. It is the discriminating woman who finds out what cut or make fits her particular hand, and then sticks to that manufacturer’s gloves.

Gloves are sewed in three different ways. First, the two edges are brought together and sewed over and over. This is called overseam, and sometimes round-seam, and is the method used on all fine, dressy gloves. A second way laps the edges one over the other and sews through and through. This is lap-seam, or piqué, and is popular on gloves for street wear. Third, and last, the seams are brought together, the same as in overseam sewing, but are sewed through and through. This method is called prick-seam, and sometimes sadlers sewn, and is used only on heavy leathers.

The first machine invented for glove sewing was put on the market about forty-five years ago and did overseam work only. It was fought by many of the best manufacturers who continued to make the boast of their hand-sewn gloves. Time has overcome this feeling, and the invention of piqué and prick-seam sewing machines has done away with all handsewing—with the exception of a few sadlers sewn, made in England, and their quantity so small as to be negligible. Even the embroidery on the backs of gloves to-day is done almost entirely by machine. There are one or two styles still shown that are sewn by hand, called tambour. Tambour work is very handsome and cannot be done except by hand—yet; but the limit of machines has by no means been reached.

Chapter X.
GLOVES OF THE HOUR

An interesting modern development in glove making, and one which undoubtedly has come to stay, is the vogue of the silk glove whose popularity has grown to surprising proportions. Oddly enough, the first gloves to be introduced into Europe for women in the thirteenth century were made of linen, and were of very simple design. These may be regarded as the ancestor of the chamoisette and cotton doeskins of our day; while the knitted silk, or “purled” hand coverings, worn by the early clergy, suggested perhaps the gloves of silk fabric so widely in favor for the last half century. Quaint lace “mitts” and gloves of spider-webby texture imparted to the costumes of our grandmothers a charming femininity. But the practical silk glove as a substitution for kid is a comparatively recent achievement of manufacturers who are trying their best to meet the constantly multiplying new demands of modern men and women.

The most hasty comparison of the earliest fabric gloves with those produced in our own times cannot fail to impress one with the tremendous strides the glove art has taken since it became a really modern industry. The silk and linen gloves of mediæval days were loose and almost shapeless; they possessed neither fit nor individuality. Roughly measured to clothe the hands of a king, they might have been worn almost equally well by the lowliest of his subjects. They were bulky and awkward, concealing, rather than delineating, the character of the hands beneath.

Gloves of leather and kid were first to acquire those traits of individuality which were made possible by Xavier Jouvin’s invention of an exact system of measurements, adapted to virtually every size and type of human hand. The perfection of fabric gloves, however, lagged behind. Even silk gloves were indifferently made, and could be had in only a very limited range of styles and sizes. As for cotton gloves, these were conspicuous for their ugliness and cheapness, up to within a very few years ago. And yet, to-day, we have velvety chamoisette and imitation doeskins which, upon the hand of the wearer, are so deceptive that they readily are mistaken for the soft-finished leathers from which they have been named. These fabric gloves, made of white, yellow and many other colored textiles, woven especially for this purpose, are supple, snug fitting, and possess a style of their own. They retain their shape even with repeated washing, and they wear amazingly well. It cannot be disputed that they fill a long felt need in both the masculine and the feminine wardrobes.

Particularly in warm weather the fabric glove, or the silk glove, almost puts out of business the leather glove, which seems heavy, overheating, unsanitary, and entirely out of keeping both with the light costume and the altered mood of the wearer. As summer approaches, we naturally long to have everything about our persons fresh, easily renewable, dainty, light and cool to the touch. Leather and kid repell us for ordinary wear. Only the finest and thinnest of kid dress gloves find a favored place in the summer wardrobe; while the fabric glove, in countless new guises, becomes increasingly popular with every successive season. Through June, July and August, fabric and silk are worn almost exclusively—and if the period be short, during these weeks at least the washable glove is without a rival.