THE COTTON QUEST: IT FITTED LIKE A GLOVE
Emily Tonge is an interdisciplinary artist working at the intersection of sculpture, textiles and performance, from the Northwest of England, currently based in London.
Female stories of performativity, power, and dress are central to my practice, through which I investigate structures and materials that exist in proximity to the body. I am fascinated by the in-between spaces and blurred lines created by these structures and the female body. This approach is underpinned by in-depth research into my own heritage and existing archives, to unpick how the past frames the present, bringing to the surface neglected stories of gender and class.
Context:
The manufacture of cotton yarn and fabrics transformed rural East Lancashire, and my hometown of Bolton into:
an engine of fast fashion at the epicentre of a web that stretched across the globe; commandeering human and environmental resources across continents in a vicious cycle of labour, manufacture and trade that persists today and which we now know is unsustainable (British Textile Biennial 2022).
My grandma Amy left school at twelve and began working in a mill in Bolton, much like the rest of the family. With my art practise enveloped by studies of gender performance and power, I took the opportunity to indulge in knowing more about my grandma’s life in this industry and cast the lens of my practice upon my own heritage.
Studying film archive footage of the Cotton Industry within the Northwest, I learned of the phenomenon of the Cotton Queen Quest, a neglected piece of working-class history from 1930s Lancashire. The 1930s competition set out to improve the declining cotton industry in Lancashire, inviting women who worked within the mills to take part in the pageant and represent their local towns. The winner would be crowned and reign for an entire year before passing the baton to a new queen. During their reign they were a representative of the Northwest cotton industry, travelling across the country as an ambassador.
This pageant relied on Eurocentric and exclusionary ideas of beauty, to promote an industrial agenda, while creating a more specific search for a mill girl who might represent the industry. They were given new wardrobes, fashionable hairstyles and stayed in luxury hotels, but it was essential that each girl was still perceived as a ‘mill’ girl. The competition set out ‘to construct a feminine type that was fashionably modern but also remained attractive to regional tastes’ (Rebecca Conway 2013) - a tension in the history and the starting point for my artistic exploration.
On learning of the Cotton Queens, I began working to address the lack of documentation around their history. Building an archive of information and ephemera, in tandem with the creation of statuesque sculptures to commemorate the women within this phenomenon. Sourcing information on the quest was not an easy task, it is scattered across the Northwest in local history centres and libraries, most of which is not well documented. Here I was able to find photo albums gifted to the Queens after their reign, handkerchiefs printed with their likeness and even speeches drafted for them to orate to crowds.
There is a sense of ridiculousness and humour to be found within this story - notions of beautifying an industry and putting on a show, as a solution to its decline, much like the contradicting constructed identity of the Cotton Queen herself. In response to this and my visual archive, I began extracting elements of machinery from the industry that these women worked with, and inflating, manipulating, and dressing them up, as if ready for the pageant. Working between cotton fabric and soft forms, contrasted by metal work, patterned and textured fabrics cover the cool metal, taking reference from clothing worn by contestants. I even chose to create a machine for the pageant which could wave to crowds at the turn of a wheel.
Through a feminist lens, this body of work examines historic notions of the Northern female identity, paying homage to the women who took part in the Cotton Queen Quest, while discussing labour, automation and exploitation, blurring the lines between human and machine. Although my grandma was not a cotton queen, or even applied to my knowledge - she could have been. I feel an inherited responsibility to share the richness of life that she lived. Working class communities, particularly women, are often not invited to share the plurality of their experiences and lives, never mind be celebrated or commemorated for their contributions. Through my work, I aim to offer this.
And there is much more to unpack, articulate, respond to here. The body of information I’ve collated, around the Cotton Queen Quest, is rich and feeding the design of upcoming artworks and installations. Experimenting with kinetic and mechanical movement in sculpture as well as choreographing performance-based works on the Cotton Queen Quest, is what is next. Alongside continued research and writings into female experiences of labour and the ripple effects of industry.
Text and images by Emily Tonge
Find out more:
emilytonge.co.uk
Female stories of performativity, power, and dress are central to my practice, through which I investigate structures and materials that exist in proximity to the body. I am fascinated by the in-between spaces and blurred lines created by these structures and the female body. This approach is underpinned by in-depth research into my own heritage and existing archives, to unpick how the past frames the present, bringing to the surface neglected stories of gender and class.
Context:
The manufacture of cotton yarn and fabrics transformed rural East Lancashire, and my hometown of Bolton into:
an engine of fast fashion at the epicentre of a web that stretched across the globe; commandeering human and environmental resources across continents in a vicious cycle of labour, manufacture and trade that persists today and which we now know is unsustainable (British Textile Biennial 2022).
My grandma Amy left school at twelve and began working in a mill in Bolton, much like the rest of the family. With my art practise enveloped by studies of gender performance and power, I took the opportunity to indulge in knowing more about my grandma’s life in this industry and cast the lens of my practice upon my own heritage.
Studying film archive footage of the Cotton Industry within the Northwest, I learned of the phenomenon of the Cotton Queen Quest, a neglected piece of working-class history from 1930s Lancashire. The 1930s competition set out to improve the declining cotton industry in Lancashire, inviting women who worked within the mills to take part in the pageant and represent their local towns. The winner would be crowned and reign for an entire year before passing the baton to a new queen. During their reign they were a representative of the Northwest cotton industry, travelling across the country as an ambassador.
This pageant relied on Eurocentric and exclusionary ideas of beauty, to promote an industrial agenda, while creating a more specific search for a mill girl who might represent the industry. They were given new wardrobes, fashionable hairstyles and stayed in luxury hotels, but it was essential that each girl was still perceived as a ‘mill’ girl. The competition set out ‘to construct a feminine type that was fashionably modern but also remained attractive to regional tastes’ (Rebecca Conway 2013) - a tension in the history and the starting point for my artistic exploration.
On learning of the Cotton Queens, I began working to address the lack of documentation around their history. Building an archive of information and ephemera, in tandem with the creation of statuesque sculptures to commemorate the women within this phenomenon. Sourcing information on the quest was not an easy task, it is scattered across the Northwest in local history centres and libraries, most of which is not well documented. Here I was able to find photo albums gifted to the Queens after their reign, handkerchiefs printed with their likeness and even speeches drafted for them to orate to crowds.
There is a sense of ridiculousness and humour to be found within this story - notions of beautifying an industry and putting on a show, as a solution to its decline, much like the contradicting constructed identity of the Cotton Queen herself. In response to this and my visual archive, I began extracting elements of machinery from the industry that these women worked with, and inflating, manipulating, and dressing them up, as if ready for the pageant. Working between cotton fabric and soft forms, contrasted by metal work, patterned and textured fabrics cover the cool metal, taking reference from clothing worn by contestants. I even chose to create a machine for the pageant which could wave to crowds at the turn of a wheel.
Through a feminist lens, this body of work examines historic notions of the Northern female identity, paying homage to the women who took part in the Cotton Queen Quest, while discussing labour, automation and exploitation, blurring the lines between human and machine. Although my grandma was not a cotton queen, or even applied to my knowledge - she could have been. I feel an inherited responsibility to share the richness of life that she lived. Working class communities, particularly women, are often not invited to share the plurality of their experiences and lives, never mind be celebrated or commemorated for their contributions. Through my work, I aim to offer this.
And there is much more to unpack, articulate, respond to here. The body of information I’ve collated, around the Cotton Queen Quest, is rich and feeding the design of upcoming artworks and installations. Experimenting with kinetic and mechanical movement in sculpture as well as choreographing performance-based works on the Cotton Queen Quest, is what is next. Alongside continued research and writings into female experiences of labour and the ripple effects of industry.
Text and images by Emily Tonge
Find out more:
emilytonge.co.uk