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Ivory kid leather · mousquetaire evening gloves · five-line point stitching · three mother-of-pearl buttons · made in France · 1950s · size 6¼ · length approx. 40cm
Ivory kid leather, mousquetaire length, with three mother-of-pearl buttons at the wrist and five lines of point stitching drawn across the back of the hand in perfect parallel. Kid leather this fine has a suede-matte surface that holds the light differently from every angle, pale as unbleached linen, cool to the touch as still water.
The mousquetaire glove, long past the elbow, belongs to the grammar of Continental evening dress. French glovework of the 1950s was among the finest in the world: the tanning of kid, the fitting to a numbered last, the finishing by hand, these were trades passed down in family workshops in Millau and Grenoble and a handful of other towns where nothing about the work had changed much since the eighteenth century. Point de Paris stitching in this number and spacing is not a flourish but a signature, the way a maker says: here, this is who I am. The word ganterie covers all of it but translates only to "glove-making," which is not quite enough.
Made in France, 1950s. Size 6¼. Length approximately 40cm. A pair of gloves that understand formality as something one does with the whole arm.
Care
Kid leather should never be wet. Spot-clean only with a barely damp cloth; allow to dry away from heat. Store laid flat, not folded, in tissue. The buttons are shell and will crack if crushed.
More on looking after vintage pieces in our care guide.
Size
Measured flat: Length approx. 40cm from fingertip to cuff. Size 6¼ (French sizing).
Our size guide explains how vintage sizing is read here.
Condition
Archive-ready. No staining, no splits. The kid is supple. The buttons are complete and secure. Light traveller's creases will ease with careful wear.
Our condition lexicon explains the grades we use.
Before it reaches you
Someone loved this before you did, and I try to honour that properly. Each piece is hand washed, or cleaned in the way that the fabric permits, then steamed until it softens and straightens and feels newly attended to. Wherever a button was missing, it has been replaced with a vintage one from my long-kept collection. Wherever a hem had given way, I fix it by hand. By the time it leaves this room it is genuinely clean, pressed, whole, and looked over one final time before I let myself believe it is ready. Not restored. Not made new. Just returned to a state where it can be loved again, by someone who was not there the first time.
Mousquetaire gloves reach past the elbow because there was an era when formality was measured by how much of the arm agreed to take part, and these agree entirely, to the last inch. The five lines of point stitching down the back of the hand are the maker's signature, written in the only alphabet ganterie uses, a sentence that says here, this is who I am, and nothing further. Kid this fine stays cool to the touch like still water and keeps the shape of whatever hand last filled it, so wear them and you briefly borrow the poise of a stranger from Grenoble. Left empty they lie flat and wait, which is the only patient thing about them.
