Nine to five
LOUISE MCCULLAGH IS A TEXTILE CONSERVATOR.
The job of a textile conservator is an amalgamation of science and art. When we conserve something, we’re trying to preserve materials from damage. When we restore, we’re trying to bring textiles back to what they were like at the beginning of their life. I began this career back in 2013. I originally had a degree in textile design and worked as a fashion buyer in the UK, but when I moved to the Gold Coast, I couldn’t find a job in either field. So, I briefly went into medical recruitment – I’m a creative person, though, so sitting at a desk wasn’t for me. Museums are my happy place. I thought, there must be something where I can combine my love of textiles with my love of history. That’s how I found textile conservation.
I did some work experience with the Museum of Brisbane and loved it, then went back home to do a textile conservation course in London. After that, I transferred my degree to the University of Melbourne to get some more experience before moving to Brisbane. When I explain my job, people look at me strangely and say, “Is there a demand?” There are only a handful of textile conservators in Brisbane, as far as I’m aware. It’s a very niche market. It’s taken me a while to build up my reputation here, too. I’ve done a lot of driving around to museums to meet people face-to-face – that’s when they take notice. It’s far easier to ignore a phone call. My job is split into two parts: assessing how stable a textile is, then thinking about storage and environmental factors to understand how it might deteriorate. We do X-rays and other scientific tests to work out the composition of materials – sometimes there are hidden objects within a garment. Fluctuations in temperature and relative humidity cause fibres to break down, while direct sunlight makes fabrics fade. When we’re displaying objects in museums, we always try to exhibit them at a lower light level, but sometimes it can be so dim you can’t see the details of the textiles. If we do increase the light, we make sure to take the pieces off display for at least five years. The more they’re exposed, the faster they deteriorate.
Everything we do needs to be unseen. When we clean garments, we try to handle them as little as possible. We always vacuum them first, then, if there are stains, we might do a wet wash. Stains can tell a story and add to the textile itself. If, for example, there’s staining on the underarms from a runway show, we’ll remove them. But if it’s food stains on Henry VIII’S breeches, that’s historically significant. Those stains show us what he ate in his lifetime, so we’d leave them there.
Generally, my work is quite varied. I’ve worked on everything from WWI flags to wedding dresses, christening gowns and historical textiles from museums. A lady recently contacted me because she found an 1870s petticoat on her property. The oldest garment I’ve handled was dug up from a construction site on the corner of Elizabeth and Franklin Streets in Melbourne. It turned out to be an 1870s men’s frock coat, and it took me over 100 hours to remove all the dirt and mud. The coat held organic mercury, which was used to preserve grain stock back then, so told us a bit about the wearer’s life.
It’s important to preserve historical textiles, because you can learn so much about the way people lived. The aim of a conservator is to make textiles last longer than us. That’s something I love about this job – these beautiful pieces are going to be enjoyed by future generations to come.