Jacques Derrida’s theory of the supplement is of particular relevance here. According to Derrida, the logic of supplementarity consists of the relation of power that is established between the “original” (ergon) and the “supplement” (parergon), as well as the degree of dependence of the former with respect to the latter (1997: 144–5). For the French thinker, the supplement is not an optional complement to the original: it is the condition of the original. Derrida’s analysis shows that the supplement, beyond its seemingly trivialized importance, is indispensable to and inextricably linked to the original because it fills an element the ergon lacks. The supplement operates as an optional appendix, while at the same time completing a necessary element.

In a likeness to the relationship between ergon and parergon, recent research has drawn attention to the crucial role that accessories have played throughout cultural history despite the lack of scholarly attention given to them. For instance, Susan Hiner comments that fashion accessories are fraught with complex meanings, and in nineteenth-century France they “became primary sites for the ideological work of modernity” (2010: 1–2). In a similar vein, Marni Reva Kessler looks to artistic depictions of the female veil in Paris during the late 1800s, arguing that veils served to shed light on debates surrounding the ways in which modern life was constructed, including those around public health, imperialism, and modernist art practices. As Kessler points out, accessories are “always politically, socially, and culturally determined” (2006: xxx).¹

Drawing upon the methodological approaches employed by the aforementioned authors, the objective of this chapter is to demonstrate the multiplicity of values and associations—often conflicting—that women’s fashion accessories convey over time. Specifically, this chapter focuses on the narratives and cultural functions of the most archetypal of all Spanish female accessories—the mantilla, a lace veil donned by women to cover their hair, shoulders, and upper torso. As I will analyze in the pages that follow, the mantilla functions as a privileged sartorial object upon which one can intellectually explore the social and political events in modern and contemporary Spain.

This chapter centers on three key chronological phases in which the mantilla played a decisive role in Spanish culture: its origins to the eighteenth-century phenomenon of majismo, the process of national redefinition in the nineteenth century, and the first two decades of the Francoist regime (1939–59) until now. Throughout time, this adornment raised countless controversies and bore powerful ideological messages to communicate a unified and traditionalist view of the Spanish State. Concurrently, it became synonymous with Spanish femininity and served to ambiguously forge an idealized notion of a “genuine” and exoticized Spanishness within and beyond national borders. Still today, the mantilla remains vividly alive in the Spanish imaginary with its complexities, its interrogations, and its politically charged understandings at the heart of cultural change.

Although it is difficult to pin down the exact time when the mantilla became a fashion trend and extended to all social hierarchies in the Iberian Peninsula, according to art historian Carmen Bernis, it was first documented in 1483 as a luxurious object only accessible to noblewomen (1979: 102). As Ruth de la Puerta further illustrates, upper-class women first wore it as a sign of respect during Christian festivities, horseback riding, and social gatherings, representing the passage from early childhood to youth (1996: 201). By the mid-1700s, however, there was a visual proliferation of mantillas in portraits, costume albums, fashion plates, and prints, in which the accessory appears as a quintessential item of the maja’s dress—the eighteenth-century popular, urban, and plebeian female figure that progressively became the emblem of “authentic” feminine Spanishness (Zanardi 2013: 155). The maja’s mantilla, a lightweight and shorter version of the manto, was made of different materials, including fibers like silk, cotton, and wool, and fabrics such as tulle, felt, muslin, taffeta, and especially lace. The mantilla was either white or black, and it could be further embellished with decorative patterning. Other enhancements included printed designs, embroidery, and gold or silver thread, while braids, fringe, and velvet borders could be attached to the base fabric. Moreover, it was often sported with tall hair combs or peinetas to craft a striking cascading effect. In spite of the mantilla’s “national” qualities, there were many regional differences, offering countless variations in style, size, color, and material, all of which carried distinctive meanings (Zanardi 2016b: 123).

In his Colección de trajes de España tanto antiguos como modernos (1777), Juan de la Cruz Cano y Olmedilla visualizes the mantilla as an essential component in the wardrobe of the maja, whose clothing was completed with a black basquiña (overskirt) that revealed her ankles, a striped fichu, a corseted top with tassels, a short and tight jacket with the flaps open, buckled shoes, white tights, and a fan (Figure 1.1). All these items of dress served to highlight her seductive female body and were evidence of her castizo (pure) persona. In particular, the mantilla, because of its ability to hide the wearer’s face, contained a component of mystery and eroticism, and was linked to seductiveness and sassiness, both qualities that marked the maja’s popular conduct (Zanardi 2016b: 124). This enticing allure is already perceived in travel accounts from the end of the eighteenth century. In A Journey through Spain (1791), British traveler Joseph Townsend associates the mantilla with Iberian femininity, praising how graciously women sported it. As Townsend tells us: “No foreigner can ever attain their ease, or elegance, in putting on this simple dress” (quoted in Zanardi 2013: 146). For another...