Beneath the afterglow of the setting sun along the Nile, the linen robes, gold ornaments, and exquisite wigs of ancient Egypt have long transcended their material significance as mere adornments. They are fluid codes of civilization, weaving the cosmology, social order, and immortal dreams of an empire into every thread and weave.
Lower Garments
The history of Egypt dates back to around 3100 BC, making it one of the earliest civilizations in the world. Art is the recorder and witness of civilization, as well as its spiritual expression; meanwhile, it also propels the progress of civilization. From Chinese bronze artifacts to Renaissance paintings, and to contemporary architectural designs, art interprets the definition of beauty in a visual form and radiates the glory of civilization at the same time. The exquisite human proportions in Greek sculptures and the harmony between humans and nature in Chinese landscape paintings all reflect the values and spiritual pursuits of a nation and an era. As an applied art, fashion has been integrated into people’s daily lives. Below are some cultural relics that embody the spirit of fashion, photographed by the author during a museum visit, along with corresponding research and introductions.
This is a mural on the side wall of an Egyptian temple in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The figure in the painting stands in profile, a posture commonly used in ancient Egyptian murals to depict characters walking or engaged in activities. The figure’s right hand is bent at the chest, holding a staff—a gesture often used in ancient Egyptian art to convey respect or the fulfillment of duties. The figure’s attire is typical of upper-middle-class men in ancient Egypt, suggesting that he may be guiding the souls of the deceased or gods; alternatively, he might have held offerings in his left hand, though the relevant details have faded over time for various reasons.
The figure wears a piece of "white cloth" around his lower body, a basic garment for every man in Egypt called a Shenti. The Shenti came in a variety of lengths and styles; in some cases, it could even be pulled between the legs to cover the private parts.
Some important figures wore a Shenti that had been soaked in sizing, as shown in the picture on the right. This treatment caused the front of the garment to protrude—a design symbolizing fertility worship. Such garments were mostly reserved for prominent individuals, which explains the common artistic motif of exaggerating reproductive potency.
The attire shown in the picture above is a common women’s garment called a Kalas. On many occasions, women, like men, would opt to wear only lower garments. In ancient Egypt, nudity was not considered a taboo for either gender, though full nudity was not acceptable. Nevertheless, many women chose to wear these pleated skirts to protect their skin; such skirts were relatively lightweight and sheer.
The image above illustrates nearly all the ways to wear a Kalas—on some occasions, men would even wear it reversed.
The picture above features another more fashionable style of skirt. This type of skirt was primarily crafted by hand-drilling holes in various natural beads and rough stones, then stringing them together. The two skirts displayed in the picture on the right are separated by nearly 2,000 years, yet it is evident that their overall styles remained relatively consistent aside from minor details. This also demonstrates that the fashion sense embodied by such skirts was admired in Egyptian society for a very long time.
These skirts had no lining and were worn directly against the skin, further confirming that the ancient Egyptians felt no shame about partial nudity. Moreover, these garments offered no sun protection and failed to shield the wearer’s skin, which suggests that their primary function was likely to showcase fashion, identity, and social status.
The image on the right depicts the actual appearance and style of the garment when worn by women, as seen in mural artifacts.
Headdresses
This is probably the most common type of headdress seen in Egyptian artistic relics, called a Nemes. Many readers may have seen depictions of Tutankhamun, his sarcophagus, and his death mask, and thus assumed that this kind of headdress or headcloth was made of precious metals or gold. In fact, however, its production method was very similar to that of the special Shenti mentioned earlier—it was crafted from linen soaked in sizing. The patterns and colors on it were not elaborate decorations; they were simply painted with pigments available locally. Unfortunately, due to erosion by sandstorms and natural fading, most of these exquisite patterns can no longer be seen today.
When the front flap of the headcloth is tucked to the back, it transforms into a new style of attire called a Khat.
The blue headdress is yet another fashionable item, known as a Khepresh—also referred to as the Blue Crown of War. Wearers of this headdress were almost always either pharaohs or individuals of outstanding military merit. Additionally, if this type of headdress appears in a mural, it generally indicates that the scene depicted is related to warfare.
The headdress shown in the picture on the right resembles the warrior’s crown, but this particular style was worn by women. It is a flat crown and was also a popular fashion accessory during the New Kingdom period.
Jewelry
The ancient Egyptians were utterly enamored with glittering jewelry, and of all adornments, gold ornaments were undoubtedly their favorite.
The item pictured above is a common decorative piece, which was also sometimes worn as a collar.
This type of jewelry is called a Usekh or Wesekh.
Yet jewelry was by no means limited to such collars—there were also a host of other exquisitely crafted vintage-style pieces.
The four images above are the author’s top picks among the ancient Egyptian jewelry pieces viewed at the Metropolitan Museum of Art (apologies for the mediocre photography skills). The craftsmanship on display includes beading, carving, filigree work, and enamel firing, among other techniques. These artifacts not only attest to the extraordinary sophistication of the artisans’ skills back then, but also reveal that the aesthetic tastes of that era bear a striking resemblance to our own. What’s more, the functions of these pieces are not so different from modern jewelry either—think of the familiar exclamation: “Look at my new ring! It’s so big and sparkly, I feel like a goddess!”
The fashion system of ancient Egypt profoundly illustrates the symbiotic relationship between fashion and civilization: civilization provides fashion with a framework of meaning, while fashion endows civilization with a wearable form. From the vulture headdresses of pharaohs to the simple loincloths of farmers, every item of clothing serves as a visual map of the social hierarchy. From the scarab pectorals symbolizing eternal life to the belt ornaments featuring hippopotamus goddesses that embody the protection of fertility, every accessory carries the longing to channel supernatural powers into daily life. This “worn civilization” not only defined the identity of the ancient Egyptians, but also became a ritual language through which they communicated with deities, nature, and even the afterlife.
The sartorial wisdom of ancient Egypt offers us a timeless insight: true fashion innovation is never merely about changes in style, but about the physical manifestation of the deeper rhythms of civilization. When ancient Egyptian craftsmen ground lapis lazuli into eyeshadow, they were adorning their eyes with the sparkle of the night sky; when weavers created pleated textures, they were mimicking the shimmering ripples of the Nile River. Here, fashion becomes an act of translation—it transforms abstract theological concepts, social values, and observations of nature into a tangible poetics that can be felt by the body and resonate with the rhythms of life.
Thousands of years later, as we stand before museum display cases gazing at well-preserved sandals and corsets, we are witnessing more than just the aesthetic preferences of a lost civilization. We are beholding humanity’s eternal endeavor to make sense of the world, anchor our sense of self, and defy the passage of time through the way we adorn our bodies. The fashion legacy of ancient Egypt is like a bronze mirror, reflecting the essential pursuit of all civilizations: to weave a robe of infinite meaning upon the finite vessel of the human form.
This is perhaps the most precious lesson that ancient Egyptian fashion offers to the present day: in an era where fashion is increasingly fragmented and ephemeral, the most soul-stirring sartorial art still springs from the desire to weave individual lives into a grander narrative of civilization—much like how the ancient Egyptians once used a single strand of linen and a glimmer of gold to inscribe the eternal light of civilization upon their mortal bodies.