Much of what we know about women’s clothing in Renaissance Italy comes from contemporary visual evidence. Textiles themselves are not easy to preserve for various reasons: they are repurposed but also eventually biodegrade. As far as scholars know, there are no women’s clothing items from the 15th century in existence. What we do have are fragments, mostly of ecclesiastical garments. That is why Quattrocento paintings that represent women are the best way we can learn about the period’s female fashion, from hairstyles to clothing types and fabrics used; this is relevant not only in and of itself but because fashion is an indicator of social status that tells us more about family relations, politics and commerce in Renaissance Italy.
The frescoes painted in the 1480s by Domenico Ghirlandaio and his workshop in the Florentine church of Santa Maria Novella offer much visual evidence about female fashions. The extensive high chapel frescoes were commissioned by Giovanni Tornabuoni and represent stories from the life of the Virgin, the church’s titular saint, and of St. John the Baptist, patron saint of Florence. Ghirlandaio’s style was much appreciated by the Florentine elite for its accurate representation of people and places, and indeed these frescoes contain numerous portraits of the patron, his wife Francesca Luca Pitti, and their contemporaries.
In this article guest author Lynn Hastings will guide us in looking at details from these “fashionable frescoes” to uncover information about Renaissance women’s clothing. Focusing on two major birth scenes in the fresco cycle – The Birth of the Virgin and The Birth of Saint John the Baptist, we can gather evidence about the patron’s family, the marital status of the women pictured, the main types of dress used at the time, and the types of fabrics produced for their manufacture.
Depicting family and context
Of course, when showing the scene of The Birth of the Virgin, Ghirlandaio wasn’t painting St Anne and Mary in their biblical home, but rather in the lavish home of an upper-class Florentine family. The visitors are female members of prominent families, primarily the Tournabuoni and Medici families. Giovanni Tournabuoni commissioned the fresco cycle to Ghirlandaio who began painting it in 1486. In that year, Giovanni’s nephew Lorenzo di Medici, known to his contemporaries as Lorenzo the Magnificent, was at the helm of the powerful Medici banking family as well as the de facto ruler of Florence. Lorenzo’s mother was Lucrezia Tournabuoni, Giovanni’s sister. Showing Lucrezia in these frescoes thus attests to the importance of the Tornabuoni family as being tied to the Medici.
In the Birth of John the Baptist, we presume that Lucrezia is the figure second from the right (note that ski-slope of a nose, a family trait!). She’s wearing the head covering of an older married woman, and her mantello is blue, under which we can see her basic dress in a pale violet. The dress has a fitted bodice, with a full, ankle length skirt. In the late 15th century that layer of the costume was called the gamurra or cotta, although earlier it had been called a gonna, which in the modern Italian language means “skirt.”
Another important family connection seen in these frescoes is related to what I believe is the portrait of Giovanna degli Albizzi Tornabuoni, daughter-in-law of the patron, but more on this below in the section about fabrics, since she sports the most elaborate of them all!
Hairstyles and head coverings in Renaissance Italy
Even if we don’t know the names of all eleven women in The Birth of the Virgin, thanks to rules for hairstyles and head coverings in this period we do know their marital status. Seven of the women are married; we know this because they wear a head covering called a cuffia (think of the word “coiffure”), a short close-fitting cap or bonnet which could hang down on the sides to cover the neck. It could be white or a solid color. The two unmarried women, on the other hand, are recognizable by their loose, elaborately dressed and uncovered hair. There is one servant woman, the figure holding the baby (likely a wetnurse), wearing a cap on the back of her head. And there is one woman, perhaps an unmarried member of the household, who is wearing what appears to be a bende, a length of white silk or linen fabric intertwined into the hair. She’s the one pouring water, wearing a yellow dress (more on that dress later).
Covering up: the mantello
The garment you would first notice as it was the top layer was the mantello – think of the somewhat old-fashioned English word “mantle”. This was the outer garment, a large voluminous cloak worn by most women when out in public. Most mantelli were fairly plain and dark in color, probably made of good sturdy wool, for protection from the weather as well as for the sake of modesty. The two unmarried women in this fresco are not yet required to wear the mantelli, but what else would they have been wearing on the street as they traveled to the home of the new mother, St Anne, to wish her congratulations on the birth of her new babe, Mary?
Indoor dress: the gamurra and guarnello
In both birth scene frescoes, the reclining new mothers are wearing this same garment, the gamurra. There’s a scoop neck, a fitted bodice, a thin belt, a full skirt, and long sleeves. For everyday wear at home, this dress was of a modest fabric, cotton, linen or thin wool. For special occasions, these garments might be silk or fine wool. We know how unusual it was for anyone outside the immediate household to see a woman in her gamurra.
In 1467, Lucrezia had gone down to Rome to find a wife for her son Lorenzo. She wrote to her husband Piero di Medici, that she had called on Monsignor Orsini in his sister’s house, which adjoined his, “When I had saluted him in thy name his sister came in with the maiden, who had on a tight frock of the fashion of Rome without the lenzuolo.” Literally this word means ‘sheet’ in modern Italian, but here likely meaning a cloak. She perhaps wore only the Roman equivalent of a gamurra – which was considered exceptional to an outside visitor – and thus Lucrezia was able to observe the young woman’s figure and carriage.
The gamurra was usually fastened with laces, either on the side or in the front, or both. For examples of front lacing, we can look at “Birth of the Virgin” again. Firstly, there’s the wet-nurse, holding the baby (more later on her). Next, we can notice the married noblewoman in the pink overdress, with the green gamurra laced in red. I think it’s possible that figure is Clarice Orsini, and that we see her again in The Birth of Saint John the Baptist, standing next to her mother-in-law, the aforementioned Lucrezia. Poignantly, Lucrezia’s presence is posthumous as she had died in 1482, before the fresco was even begun.
There is another type of indoor-use garment in the frescoes, the guarnello. Look first at the maiden in the blue gown on the far right of “Birth of John the Baptist.” In contrast to the staid, composed, static noblewomen, this figure is in motion. She whirls into the scene, seemingly to come from the ancient world, bearing fruit and wine. Is she an allegorical figure? Botticelli also used this garment on his goddesses and nymphs. Now, this garment might still have been in use in 15th-century Florence as a house dress or a dress for domestics or working women in general. Look next at the young woman in yellow pouring water in The Birth of the Virgin. Her garment is tied horizontally at the waist and again at the lower hip level. It seems to be hitched above her green underdress, which appears below. Also, we can see her feet, unlike the noblewomen, whose gowns are floor-length.
The guarnello that three figures seem to be wearing might have been in use as a house dress or a dress for domestics or working women in general. Worn by those performing chores, it is characterized by one or two cords which tie around the waist and sometimes the hips, creating ease of movement for the worker and a flouncy blouson appearance to the viewer. Ghirlandaio uses the inherent puffiness of the garment to remind his sophisticated patrons to see an analogy with the similarly clothed dynamic, hyper-mobile figures of a nymph and maenads from ancient Roman art whose images were well known to cultured Florentines. That this recognizable ancient trope is brought to life in the figures of servant girls is a felicitous visual pun, perhaps also embodying deeper meanings that Ghirlandaio and his patrons would have enjoyed.
Outer dress: the giornea and cioppa
By far the most gorgeous fabrics are worn in the overdresses of the noblewomen. Let’s look at the fourth figure from the right in “Birth of St John the Baptist.” This young noblewoman is wearing a lavender pink garment known as a giornea, a sleeveless, tabard-like overdress, worn over the gamurra. The giornea was open down the sides and front, held with a clasp. Giornee were usually of very rich fabrics, such as ornate brocades or damasks. In the winter, the giornea might have sleeves attached, at which point it could be referred to as a cioppa.
An excellent example of an overdress can be seen in the gold and white brocade gown worn by Lodovica Tournabuoni, the only daughter of the patron, in the “Birth of the Virgin.” Note at the armscye and again at the elbow, the puffy white fabric “escaping” the brocade. This white fabric is the camicia (“shirt” in modern Italian, and “chemise” in modern French), the innermost layer of clothing for both men and women.
Women’s camicie were long, at least calf-length, and usually made of linen, although silk and cotton were also used. As the camicia is an undergarment, it is difficult to find more than a glimpse, but perhaps the loose-necked garment worn by the servant holding the babe in “Birth of the Virgin” is just such a garment.
There we have it then, the four layers of clothing worn by the upper class women of Florence in the late 15th century. I think it’s helpful to envision the modern-day equivalent in formal wear of slip (camicia), dress (gamurra), jacket (cioppa), and coat (mantello).
A few comments on sleeves. According to Carole Collier Frick, “at least 14 types of sleeves are mentioned in 15th century documents.” Sleeves (maniche) were long, for modesty’s sake, and varied widely from plain, narrow, or gathered. We can pay particular attention to the trumpet sleeves on the gorgeous gold and white brocade cioppa worn by Lodovica Tournabuoni in The Birth of the Virgin. Several of the figures in both frescoes have slits in their narrow sleeves, either at or below the elbow. The fabric of the camicia worn underneath is pulled out of these slits. Were these slits the precursor to the slashes that were all the rage decades later in the Tudor Court and elsewhere? We notice most of the sleeves in these frescoes were very tight, which somewhat constricted the movement of the women. These slits (opened seams) were a practical solution allowing wider range of movement. Also most of the sleeves on the cioppe were only partially attached, that opening in the front also helping with ease of movement. In the next century, sleeves would become increasingly independent of the bodices of the gowns.
Before it all: Fabrics
Let’s have a look at the gorgeous fabrics worn by the young noblewomen. Florence had been a textile town since the tenth century. While some wool came from local sources, most of the raw material was imported from elsewhere in Italy and from all over Europe. There were 27 steps to make fleece shorn from sheep into wearable and fashionable cloth. The finished product was then exported as finished luxury material all over the known world. This importing and exporting of raw and finished goods led the rich Florentine merchant families to create extensive networks, which eventually led to the rise of the fabulously wealthy banking and mercantile families, such as the Medici, the Tournabuoni, the Strozzi, the Rucellai, the Albizzi, and the Pazzi.
By the 14th and 15th centuries the production of luxury silk fabrics was also a significant industry in Tuscany. Elaborate patterns were woven into the fabrics, which were then called brocade or damask. Look at the highly figured gold and white brocade worn by Lodovica Tournabuoni in “Birth of the Virgin.” We can distinguish sunbursts and doves. Gold threads heightened the designs. The kneeling maiden next to Lodovica is wearing a damask cioppa, damask differing from brocade in that it is usually a tone-on-tone design. Both are woven on Jacquard looms.
From her elaborate fabric, there is another figure we can recognize in these frescoes. In The Birth of the Virgin, we see the pale lavender pink brocade giornea worn by the fourth figure from the right. Unlike the other young maidens who appear in profile, this woman gazes toward the viewer. Her ensemble is remarkable for the elaborate gamurra, the bodice and sleeves of which appear to be embroidered with flowers and pomegranates using red and gold threads. This young noblewoman is wearing, by far, the most elaborate costume in the fresco. I think there’s a strong possibility this is Giovanna degli Albizzi Tornabuoni, daughter-in-law of the patron.
Indeed, if we turn to The Visitation in the same fresco cycle, we see a young noblewoman dressed in the same gold and white brocade fabric as we saw on Lodovica, this time paired with a heavily embellished red sleeve. This costume appears to be the same as the one worn by Giovanna in the portrait (now in Madrid) commissioned by her husband Lorenzo Tournabuoni, painted posthumously as sadly she had died in childbirth in 1488. Note her elaborate coiffure in the portrait, and compare that with the hairstyle worn by the young woman in the pale lavender pink in “Birth of the Virgin.”
The importance of the role of Giovanna degli Albizzi Tornabuoni to the patron’s family cannot be ignored. She was the mother of Giovanni’s oldest grandson, also called Giovanni, and as such she was the means by which the family name and prestige was transmitted to the next generation. Giovanna’s portraits showcase her beauty; with her reddish gold hair, pale skin, and regular features, she embodied the ideal beauty of the era. In Renaissance Florence physical beauty was seen as a moral good; Giovanna’s beauty went hand-in-hand with her virtue
With the patronage of the fresco cycle, Giovanni Tournabuoni was able to command the attention of posterity to his family’s honor, virtue and prestige. And in doing so, Tournabuoni and Ghirlandaio created a lasting record of 15th-century fashion for our appreciation and enjoyment.
Text by Lynn Hastings, with contributions by Eileen White. Edited by Alexandra Korey.
Photos from web gallery of art (creative commons) except those indicated courtesy of Claire Duiker of Wild Sage tours.
