How the Faerie Got His Stripes

The Magician by Brian Froud

Bump into any sprite or pixie at a renaissance or fairy festival these days, and there are a few things that you are very likely to see: pointy ears, lovely wings, and…stripes. This bold fashion pattern has become so completely part and parcel of the visual language of Faerie, we really don’t even think about it or question it anymore. Well, not usually. Last August, I decided to do a lead-up to the premiere of the miniseries Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance, and create a month-long celebration of the work of the Froud family on my Instagram. And as part of that experience, I started looking at the visual language of the Frouds’ faerie art to honor it in my own photos I shared. I noticed the stripes on the hat and the stockings and the wristlets of my Wendy Froud troll, the stripes on all the art I love by Brian Froud, and of course the stripes Toby Froud wore as a baby in Labyrinth (the inspiration for the name of his production company, Stripey Pajama Productions). Clearly the integral use of stripes in faerie art and costuming today was at least in part inspired by the Frouds. But, I asked myself, what inspired them? Did any artists before the Frouds use stripes in their fairy art? Just when did this popular modern association of stripes with the fey begin?

Lex Cashore

Desiree Anderson

Back when the question first popped into my head last summer (and wouldn’t let me go until I investigated), I posted an inquiry on the wonderful Facebook group The Mythic Café with Charles de Lint and Company. I received a wide range of ideas, all fascinating. Beloved mythic fiction author Charles de Lint himself mentioned that “alas, I have nothing to add to this fascinating discussion except that stripes are just fun, especially striped stockings/tights.”

Wendy Froud faerie sculpture

When I asked artist Amy Brown the question of what motivated her to put stripes on her faeries, I received a somewhat similar and charming answer: “It's funny, but I had black and white striped tights as a teenager. I loved them. I started putting them on my faeries, because to me it reflected attitude, mischief, like teenagers. I see some faeries as being a bit like teenagers.”

Faerie artwork by Amy Brown

Brown’s idea of the rebellious energy that stripes convey is very much in keeping with their earliest known associations in the middle ages. Stripes were worn by prostitutes, jesters, and criminals (we see the latter in 19th century prison garb), and by others who were supposed to be identified, as Brown put it, as “mischief makers.” Writer Audrey Stanton says in an excellent article, “striped clothing began to be a sign of an outcast or someone who needed to be contained.” They were worn, sometimes by force, by transgressors, outsiders, or deviants. The first artworks historically defined as “fairy art” would of course not start emerging for many more centuries after the middle-ages, but historically, the framework was laid.

In the late 18th and early 19th century, fairy art began to emerge. William Blake was largely influential in creating the visual language then carried on by other 19th century artists like Richard Dadd and John Anster Fitzgerald. But there were still no stripes to be found. (Trust me…I went over The Fairy Feller’s Master-Stroke with a fine-toothed comb.)

Richard Dadd’s famous artwork, The Fairy Feller’s Master Stroke

Going back to the history of stripes as fashion, by the Victorian era, they had gained much more respectability, or at least become far more fashionable among those who wanted to make a statement. Striped stockings became more popular with those who wanted to catch an eye when they peeked out during an accidental show of ankle, and striped dresses, while a sign of whimsy and a touch of sass, can be seen in fashion plates and photographs from the era. Stripes were no longer a pattern that inexorably linked one to being an outcast.

Photo credit unknown

And here we arrive at the answer I received from Brian and Wendy Froud when I asked them what their motivation was for giving their faeries stripes. Wendy wrote:

“In [Brian’s] work and in mine, the stripes really are an Alice in Wonderland reference. I grew up with Alice as a big part of my life. Wendy from Peter Pan and Alice were the two characters I identified with most. I blame my mother! The Labyrinth stripes also refer to Alice.”

Twilight by Brian Froud. This is the first painting he recalls creating with stripes.

Alice in Wonderland was written by Lewis Carroll, and first published in 1865. Although the book was originally created with illustrations by Carroll himself, his publisher suggested they employ the artist John Tenniel to recreate and improve upon Carroll’s drawings. Although the original Alice in Wonderland had nary a stripe to be seen on Alice’s white-clad legs, the sequel, Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There (1871), introduced us all to Alice’s ubiquitous ensemble: White ruffled apron, dress, and stripes on her legs. Author Robert Douglas-Fairhurst, in his book The Story of Alice, says “Alice herself was slightly altered in appearance: Carroll’s advice to Tenniel had included ‘Don’t give Alice so much crinoline,’ and Tenniel responded by slightly flattening her dress, adding some jazzy striped stockings…” Hardly anyone would ever depict Alice otherwise ever again.

Illustration by John Tenniel

Stripes were becoming a charming symbol of Victorian childhood, as children were outfitted with striped stockings, and whimsical and fantastical Alice was depicted wearing them. It was also around this era that the fairies themselves began to be subject to a phenomenon where these folkloric and sometimes mythic creatures were shrunk down, both literally and figuratively, to fit into nursery stories and children’s books and entertainment. Even though by this point, stripes had long since moved on from their earlier middle-ages association with trouble-makers, and (remember the earlier quote) those “who needed to be contained,” I still find it quite telling that it was around the same time that fairies were belittled and stuffed into the nursery by popular society that they also started to be visually depicted wearing a pattern that, in an earlier century, was used as a punishment or form of restriction. Of course, one could also make the point that even in the earlier centuries, stripes were worn by rebels, by dangerous people. And fairies are absolutely both of those things. The association of fairies with stripes, therefore, was arguably a way to both belittle them, and showcase their chaos. Rather a paradox, isn’t it? I suppose that’s the Faerie Realm for you.

Photo credit unknown

The earliest depiction I have been able to find thus far of diminutive fairy creatures wearing whimsical stripes can be seen on the brownies created by Palmer Cox. Cox was a Victorian artist who created the characters of the Brownies based on Scottish folklore. These wee tiny fey creatures first appeared in print in 1879, and went on to widespread popularity, featuring in product ads, comic strips, dolls, children’s books, and even two stage plays. The brownies were gently and humorously mischievous characters, and although not all of them wore stripes, there were a few who did. The best depiction of a striped Brownie I have found was from an ad for Brownie cameras, the small and portable camera invented in 1900 and named for Cox’s characters.

Early 1900s ad for Brownie Cameras

In the 20th century, striped fey really started to emerge. I was able to find a few examples in the works of Golden Age illustrators, such as the tails and scarves of John Bauer’s trolls, and the pants worn by a fairy in this Warwick Goble illustration. But it still wasn’t prevalently seen in story books.

The Introduction by Eleanor Fortescue Brickdale

Artwork by Warwick Goble

Artwork by John Bauer

However, another more commercial artist was starting to create a trend in the 1920s. Norman Rockwell painted a cover for The Saturday Evening Post in 1922 that shows Santa sitting exhaustedly on a chair, as the elves around him furiously work to finish the Christmas preparations. Although I’m not prepared to confidently state that this was the first depiction of Santa’s little helpers with striped socks, as they so commonly wear today, it is definitely the first I have been able to find. Rockwell’s vision of striped-sock elves was later reiterated by the advertisements of the Coca-Cola company, and by the 1950s or so, Santa’s elves and stripes were pretty well associated.

The original Norman Rockwell cover for The Saturday Evening Post

It’s easier to see the stripes on the elves in this later painting by Rockwell

Coca Cola ad from 1953

At this point I want to pause and issue the caveat that I’ve been fascinatedly researching this topic in as much detail as I can, but there are so many aspects that remain unclear. Was that cover by Rockwell in 1922 the first depiction of elves with stripes? When did elves first start appearing in Christmas art, and not just Santa, the jolly old elf himself? Are there more Golden Age or earlier illustrations of faeries wearing stripes that I just haven’t yet found? And on a larger scale, we haven’t even talked at all about witches and their association with striped stockings, and how that might run parallel to, or have influenced, the depictions of faeries.       

Promotional image from Labyrinth

Our journey through stripedom is almost at an end. In the 1960s, stripes became associated with mod and hippie countercultures, and by the 1970s, striped bell bottoms were all the rage. By this point, the association of elves and stripes was well established thanks to Christmas imagery. It is here in the mid to late 70s where Brian Froud entered, with his homage to Alice in Wonderland, and his striped faerie imagery that became a common repeated motif in his work. When Labyrinth was released in 1986, it was the second puppetry collaboration between Jim Henson and Brian Froud, but it was the one that really put the final seal on the association between stripes and faeries in popular visual culture and depictions. An association you will still see today at any fairy or renaissance festival.

Do you know anything else about the association of faeries with stripes? I would love to hear from you if so. I definitely consider this investigation to be open and ongoing, and welcome contributions.

Many thanks to:

• Brian and Wendy Froud for their communication.

• Grafton Lee Swickhard for pointing me in the direction of Norman Rockwell’s elves.

• Kimberly Strawska Hackett for mentioning Palmer Cox’s Brownies.

• Amy Brown for answering my question.

• Idalina Teixeira, Heather Freyja Rose Lofthouse, Jennifer Mata, and Charles de Lint for their insights.