Making Scythian boots, part III

The leg lining, attached with a double running stitch.  Tests show that the lining will stiffen the entire area that it's stitched into, so for flexibility and the option of tightening the boot around the ankle, the lining had to be cut off.  Extra rows of quilting within the lined area don't appear to be necessary, but could be added in the future even after the boot is constructed.

Putting stitch holes in the leather layers with just a hobby awl was much easier and faster than with the latigo sole.

Along complex curves or where clamping isn't possible, it's much easier to temporarily pin the leather pieces than to glue them, although this should be avoided when possible.

The foot is attached with two rows of double running stitches, then the leg is slid over the edge of a table to glue up the welt.

Laying the glued pieces out to dry.  Possibly just placing a large book, a plank or other heavy, flat object on the boot while it's still over the table would work best, but it's not that difficult to just arrange it so that the welt sits flush against the leg while drying.

Since the welt is likely to be a high-wear area, I attached it again with two rows of stitching.  The second edge had to be glued up by pinning at roughly two-inch intervals and squeezing glue between the pins (this photo is taken halfway through the process).

It's harder to stitch the second row because it's often hard to see the holes by looking down the boot leg.  As an alternative, one can poke the awl back into the holes and feel where it protrudes, then slide the needle down to where the awl is protruding through the leather.

The toughest part was trying to close the gap at the heel.  Because the welt is attached entirely on the outside, there's a hole where the back end of the sole, the back corners of the foot and the bottom of the welt come together.  I tried to ameliorate this by whipstitching the welt to the sole using the preexisting holes that attach the sole to the foot.  However, perhaps it would be better to put the welt between the sole and foot when they're first being stitched together, before the foot is turned rightside-out.

The finished first boot.  Although it looks okay at first glance, there are several things I don't like about it:

Firstly, the middle of the instep just before it meets the leg is too low and pinches the top of my foot painfully.  This may be the result of my tailoring in part II where I wanted to get rid of excess material around the arch.  I don't think that a softer leather would help, because the linen thread wouldn't stretch (something that must not have been apparent when the felt pattern was loosely basted together) and in any case this foot is already made from the relatively elastic part from the hide's belly.  Only a fuller cut would really help.  Possibly the curved stitch where the instep meets the leg should be cut higher.

Second, the toe is too low.  That angle in the profile is my toenail pressing against the inside.  Again, this may be because I cut away the "excess" length back in part II.  If so, it may indicate that the original Missouri River patterns were, as I first suspect, too small.  It's a very good thing that while I did mark the felt pattern with the revised lines, I didn't trim it, so it still has the pre-tailored shape.  I will have to go through the entire bootmaking process again without the extra trimming and see if I can confirm these suspicions.

Lastly, aesthetically, the brown color is too dark and the "natural" linen thread too light, making for a very odd look with the bright line cutting across the leg just above the ankle.  To achieve this kind of very dark brown, a hide would either have to be heavily dyed or smoked for an excessive amount of time.  I think that a more natural smoked color (buff, goldenrod or golden brown) would make these boots much more plausible for portraying a person of middling economic status.  Many buckskinners say that white leather was historically preferred for special occasions and that most leather would have been smoked - perhaps the Chärchän Man's white boots and red jacket were the equivalent of being buried in a formal suit today.  The fil au chinois "natural" is off-white, whereas unbleached linen and hemp are beige - however, I'm not sure where to find truly unbleached linen thread at this time.  Regular brown may be another acceptable option not because it's necessarily more correct but because it would stand out less.

In conclusion, while I have the basic steps down, it's clear that more experimentation is needed to turn out a pair of wearable boots.

Making Scythian boots, part II

The patterns are taped to the flesh side of the leather at multiple points and traced with a pen (I prefer a red rollerball pen of the kind used for proofreading).  The tape does cause slight degradation of the pattern each time it's used by pulling off some of the felt fibers, but unless you're making large numbers of boots all of the same size, this shouldn't be a problem.

I cut out both sets of uppers at once because I wanted to put the hide away and vacuum my floor, but this isn't necessarily the best order to do it in, for the following reason:

Once one vamp and its matching sole have been cut out, it's time for a final fitting.  Although felt is probably the best commonly-available material for simulating leather in test fittings, it's not perfect, and in particular it doesn't really simulate the thick leather of the sole.  When the sole approaches 1/4 inch (over 6mm) in thickness, the stitch holes are put in at an angle, emerging from the edge rather than the other side as with a thin felt sole.  Therefore when the finished shoe is turned rightside-out, the upper wraps around the sole and fits in a slightly different manner.  I soon discovered, by basting the upper and sole together, that I'd cut the felt patterns rather too long.  This is, of course, not as bad as if they'd been too short, but refitting is a pain.  I traced the excess while the shoe was still on my foot and took it apart to re-cut.

Everyone's feet are slightly different shapes.  Mine are narrow in the heel and wide across the ball.  A good fitting requires a rather odd shape.  I re-traced the altered upper onto the pattern so that the correction will be permanently incorporated into it.

Finally, it's time to sew up.  I'm using Crazy Crow's five-ply waxed linen cord in "natural," but waxed hemp would probably be more correct for Central Asia, and real sinew is ideal (.  White linen cord from a major craft chain like Michael's would probably be okay since no one will see it - it's certainly no less correct than the latigo, which will be visible.  Artificial sinew and other synthetic materials should be considered a last resort.

Speaking of latigo, it's a very tough material and difficult to pierce with the kind of awl I'm using here.  This is a hobby awl made for light applications.  I am informed by Nadeem Ahmad and Jax Reeder that an awl with a diamond cross section and mushroom handle will make putting holes in the sole much easier.

The finished foot.  Once stitching is completed, the toe is pushed inward and the entire shoe slowly inverted so that the stitching faces inward.  The insole will keep the stitching from touching your foot.  I re-cut the upper perhaps a bit too short, while the sole is still a bit too long and wide, making for an odd fit, but it doesn't yet appear so bad as to be unusable.  Luckily, a single cowhide split should yield enough material for a second pair if the first one doesn't work out.

Making Scythian boots, part I

Background and considerations
Central Asian peoples from at least around 1000 BCE through recent times frequently wore tall pull-on boots.  With modifications to height and toe shape, these were used by Arians, Drangians, Parthians, Black Sea Scythians, possibly Bactrians, and others at least as far east as the Altai.  Kuz'mina ascribes tall boots to the Bronze Age people of the Andronovo culture, widely believed to include the early Indo-Iranians, so it is possible that the ancestors of the Medes and Persians also wore them.

Artwork is scant on construction details, which, of course, probably varied a lot over such a wide expanse of space and time.  Black Sea Scythian boots on several artefacts from Kul Oba are shown with a strap that appears to gather the boot leg tight around the ankle.  The women's decorated boots from Pazyryk have wide bands of woolen braiding in the same location, but these don't appear to fasten or make the boot leg tighter and instead seem to be appliqued into place (strictly, the Kul Oba ankle straps aren't shown with any obvious method of fastening either).  Otherwise boots appear to have no fastening, like wellington or cowboy boots, which are a modern iteration of the same equestrian concept.  The Chärchän Man's surviving boot doesn't appear to have an ankle strap, but is seamed between the foot and leg.  On balance, I would call the evidence inconclusive.

Since I have thin heels and wide toes, my heels tend to lift out of any pull-on boots that are wide enough to fit my toes into.  I'm making some felt mock-ups and plan to tie straps around the ankles to see if they can be left as separate pieces or need to be partly stitched down.  On Medo-Persian low shoes, the strap has to be attached, since if it rides up even a little, it will be above the top edge of the shoe, and thus fail to serve its purpose of tightening the shoe around the ankle so it stays on the foot.  It doesn't seem to me that tall pull-on boots would have such a strict requirement.  On the other hand, as noted above, stitching the strap down all the way around would make it impossible to adjust, which could well result in a worst-of-both-worlds setup in which the strap impedes putting on and taking off the boot but isn't tight enough to provide good fit around the ankle.

Sergei Rudenko states that the Pazyryk women's boots are seamed at the back, which makes them sound similar to Plains moccasins.  Some Plains boot moccasin patterns may be ideal, but the ones most readily available to me are laced and in such case, I figure I might as well wing it when it comes to fitting the leg, since lace-up shafts won't fit in the same manner as pull-on ones.  The Pazyryk boot legs were open in back, but artwork seems to show that most Scythian boot legs were closed.

The commercial cowhide split I'm using is an inexpensive substitute for a fat-cured leather, but both it and the German-tanned buckskin I used for my gorytos are quite lightweight and floppy.  I expect that leather boots had linings to stiffen the legs and prevent too much sagging, and luckily, I have some lining leather on-hand.  A double layer of the outer material or a felt lining would also work.  Whatever the material, a few rows of stitching to add a little bit of quilting effect should increase stiffness, ensuring that the lining and upper behave as one piece of material.  For cold regions and seasons, a dense shearling hide might get by without an added liner or could even be the liner for a de-grained leather outer.

Soles might have been a single or double layer of soft leather, thick felt, or rawhide.  Rudenko describes one of the Pazyryk soles as "chamois" (which may mean chamois goat or just soft suede - I don't know what the original Russian word was) and another as having "a heel of thick (2mm.) rigid leather."  However, one look at the ornamented Pazyryk soles shows that they weren't made for a great deal of walking, and were likely intended just to show off while sitting or while riding side-saddle.

I'd prefer rawhide, but it works best with special processing such as de-stretching, and most of it on the market tends to be either very thin (goat hide, drumheads), too stiff (most bleached sides and boiled chew toys) or sold in costly whole sides (heavy cowhide, bison, etc.).  There are apparently rawhide soles commercially available, but I failed to find any before just ordering some latigo pieces.  Better luck next time!  Latigo is heavy wax-stuffed leather used for saddlery and other weather-resistant outdoor equipment, and the most common material for modern "hardsole" moccasins.  White latigo looks like bleached rawhide but is much more flexible.  Moccasin-makers around the Web have opined on the pros and cons of rawhide versus latigo with regards to durability, ease of sewing, comfort, traction and so on.  But either one should be acceptable for occasional reenactment use; rawhide simply has the edge as being more historical.  I wouldn't blame anyone for sticking with soft soles, though; they would be less protective, but far easier to stitch and more flexible if you prefer that.

Hemp and wool thread (used in Pazyryk felt stockings), sinew (used to attach the Pazyryk boot soles) and linen would all be appropriate stitching materials.  Artificial sinew and other synthetics would work as well.  For the final construction, I'm currently planning to use all waxed linen, since it's the only historical material I have on hand:  heavy cord for the soles, and light cord or multiple rows of thread to assemble the uppers.

Making the pattern

Assembled materials ready for measuring and cutting, including felt for the mock-up.  The spool of artificial sinew, next to the scissors, was my initial choice for assembly before I obtained some linen cord.

The first step is to find the correct size.  I normally wear a men's size 9 wide, so this is what I initially went for in measuring and cutting.  The Missouri River pattern is unfolded, laid out, and pieces of tracing paper are laid over the desired sections and weighted with various objects.  Trace with a pencil or ballpoint pen so the ink won't bleed through the tracing paper onto the original patterns.

In Plains moccasins, the topline is not a hole but just a T-shaped cut; the moccasin extends to the ankle and has a lace running through slits, and a tongue is sewn into the front.  Here, I'll be cutting away material from the topline to make that swooping seam seen in the Chärchän and Pazyryk boots.  No tongue is needed because the foot will be protected by the boot leg.

The paper copies of the original patterns are pinned to the felt, traced in ink and cut.  The felt pattern should become the permanent pattern cut for my own feet if everything goes well.

As recommended, I added a welt between the sole and upper for the first attempt, but have since decided that this made things needlessly complicated, especially since I'm going to be using insoles.  After cutting out a nicely rounded topline, I attempted to measure its perimeter with a tape measure and then cut a big rectangle for the leg.  Then I stitched it all up loosely with dental floss.

It turns out the size 9 fit FAR too small on me, being too short, too narrow, and too flat in the toe.  It may be partly that these moccasins are designed to be worn without socks or insoles, or they may just run smaller than they should, I don't know.  Add to that, a true fat-cured leather would stretch with wear.

After two more attempts, I now have a pattern that will accommodate my stocking foot and an orthotic insole comfortably, made by combining the back half of a size 10 with the front of a size 11.  In fact, it's a bit too wide now, though a good length.  I don't know if the welt running up the back was used in period, but it's one way to accomplish a flat seam without overlapping the edges and causing a raised edge that could chafe the achilles tendon.  Of course, the welt itself could prove irritating due to being an extra-thick, less flexible part, and any kind of raised seam would be.

The next step will be to cut all the stitches I've just done, do some slight final adjustments to the foot and sole pieces, and then start tracing onto leather.

Minnetonka, the final chapter

Earlier this year, I noted that the Minnetonka "classic fringe" boot could be improved by replacing the laces with flat thongs, and more recently that the side openings are actually accurate for the standard Medo-Persian shoe.

Art from the period of Darius to the Alexander Sarcophagus does not indicate shoelaces run through slits or eyelets.  Thus, to the best of my knowledge, the thongs should probably be just stitched around the upper edge of the shoe.  So this is what I've done.

Before doing this, I also managed to pull off the heel layers.  I believe that this is the maximum extent to which this particular model can be improved.  I tend to work slowly, and I estimate the total time in this case to have been about six hours.

Conclusion:  If you find yourself in a hurry, the earlier slit method is still okay, but otherwise what you see above is what I'm going to recommend if you don't have the skills to make shoes yourself.  (Again, the hardsole version seems to have been discontinued; softsole boots can be used as-is or you can tunnel-stitch or glue a leather or rawhide hard sole to them.)  The significant remaining flaws are that the soft sole wraps too high up the sides, resulting in something of a "moc toe" look, and that the forward edges of the quarter slant forward instead of backward.

Leather and shoes, further updates

I've been in a lengthy and very informative discussion about leathers over at RAT, and it seems that grained leather may be on the table again.  This is not inconsistent, since what I've read from brain-tanners is only that it's not easy to get the same softness from a hide without scraping the grain off; they never said it was impossible.  Member Ivor (Crispianus) brought to my attention two things I found surprising:  a modern repro of an Iron Age shoe, tanned with fish oil with the outer grain intact, and a detail from a piece of Hellenistic statuary showing a pair of Iranian shoes from the side.

It is a scan from Skulpter des Hellenismus.  It shows that the ankle shoe in this period was made not from a one-piece upper (a la the Plains moccasins and Hedeby shoes I'd been using as a model), but from a separate vamp and quarter.  This allows the quarter to rise as high or low as you like, whereas a one-piece upper has to have extensions sewn on if more than a certain height is desired.

(It further means that the Minnetonka moccasin boots are less inaccurate than I thought, and with a little modification, are actually the only off-the-shelf shoes I've seen that are anything like acceptable.  I managed to pull the heels off mine recently, but since they only appear to be available in soft sole now, you could just glue or tunnel-stitch your own leather/rawhide soles without having to potentially rip the bottoms up.)

For comparison, I went searching for high-res pictures of the Alexander Sarcophagus, which is one of the best sources for Persian clothing at the transition of the Achaemenid and Hellenistic periods.  In the restored-color versions by Vinzenze Brinkmann and Ulrike Koch-Brinkmann, the straps appear to encircle the ankle like those on Median shoes on the reliefs at Persepolis, but without the "branches" going down the sides.  However, there is an extreme closeup over at Wikipedia which appears to show a faint vertical ridge on the central figure's shoe.

With regards to the Persepolis reliefs, Ivor pointed out that the vertical branches could easily be interpreted as strips of reinforcement running down the front edges of the quarter.  The ankle strap itself - as he demonstrated by sewing an example - was probably just stitched to the top edge of the quarter rather than running through slits (as per moccasins).

The later example above is slightly modified, with the lace running through a single pair of eyelets, essentially making it a very simple chukka.  In this configuration, the eyelets are under much more stress than in the first, since they are pulled forward to hold the top around the ankle, whereas when running the thong around the ankle (either through slits or sewing it on) doesn't pull the shoe leather, but merely squeezes it against the ankle, like a drawstring.  Therefore, the later configuration would do well to have a reinforced eyelet.

Easy improvements for the Minnetonka ankle boot

In the past I've suggested the Minnetonka fringe hardsole boot as a quick option for Medo-Persian shoes.  These are what I wore at Marathon 2011.

As noted previously, they tend to pick up dust and the two-piece construction (vamp and quarter) leaves side openings that let sand in the sides (not present on Medo-Persian shoes, which were probably like Plains moccasins in construction, i.e. one-piece uppers).  Since I'm now aware that period leather likely had a rough finish more often than not, the dust is not an issue.  The side openings are but I'm looking into stitching them up or perhaps adding fabric panels.

In the meantime, another quick way of improving the boots' appearance, after you've cut the fringe off, is to replace the laces with flat suede thongs.  Art stores such as Michael's (in the U.S. and Canada) sell strips of 1/2 by 36 inches, which is just about right for our use.

Undo the laces and pull them out.  With a seam ripper or a craft knife with an angled blade, cut the stitches holding on the upper strip of leather forming the "tunnel" through which the lace was inserted.  There are two seams, one inside and one outside of the shoe.

To the now-exposed upper part of the quarter, add vertical slits through which you can insert the thong - not, of course, too close to the upper edge; about a third of an inch away should be safe.  I find a double slit at the back of the quarter and a single slit on each side of the front to be sufficient to hold the thong in place while leaving most of it exposed (as was the case with the thongs on Achaemenid shoes).  Tie the thongs in square knots rather than bows, and trim them as you see fit.

Revised recommendations on leather goods

Based on my last post regarding the unlikelihood of vegetable-tanned leather in Achaemenid times, here is what I've come up with for leather goods:

Materials
Personally I would accept brain-tan or the nearest affordable equivalent as a substitute for other fat-cured leathers.  The nearest affordable equivalent may include chrome-tanned "buckskin" or glove-tanned if it's of similar physical properties, but, as always, check your group's authenticity standards before buying.  I advise against suede or roughout (which are harder to clean; additionally, I believe machine splits are a 19th-century development) and, obviously, anything with an overtly unnatural finish.

I consider rawhide a given for any period.  Also, if you already have pieces of kit in veg-tan that you've sunk a lot of money and work into, my feeling is keep them.  Again, ask your group's leaders.

Gorytoi
Archaeological finds have indicated that they were made of soft leather supported with a wood spine or frame.  So use fat-cured or equivalent.  I imagine the type seen at Persepolis and frequently on Greek pottery, with a straight bottom and curved upper edge - the standard for Persian soldiers in our period - had a curved wooden spine sewn into the upper edge.  This also means that the floppy-looking fringe seen hanging from gorytoi in Greek battle art may in fact be the same fitted cover seen at Persepolis; it is attached to the gorytos at the top edge, or just draped over it during battle.

Using soft leather also makes it unlikely that they were painted, unless the ancients had some method of painting dye directly onto the leather which I have been unable to discover (painting dye is a real technique but I'm told it's a modern one).  The crenellated borders shown in Greek art would probably have to be appliqued in a contrasting leather or fabric, which is done most easily before the main seam is closed.

Scabbards
Wood, or some other hard, solid block of material carved to shape (as in the ivory one from Takht-i Sangin).  The akinakes scabbard is attested as having been covered in embossed sheet metal.  Otherwise, plain wood will make a good surface for carving.  I could also imagine that a facing of glued fabric or parchment (thin rawhide) was used to add strength.  All these materials will accept paint better than cured/tanned leather, too.  Possibly, lighter sheaths (as for belt knives) were rawhide, maybe with a soft leather or fabric cover.

Shields
Shields of stick-and-hide construction, like the crescent ("taka") and pavise ("spara"), should almost certainly be rawhide, which resists puncture and cutting better than leather and which was used in the Dura-Europos shields that share the same construction method.  I have heard it suggested to paint a thin layer of wax on top of the finished shield to prevent water absorption.

Shoes
The Persepolis reliefs and Alexander Sarcophagus seem to disagree about the presence of separate soles on the ankle-strapped shoes.  It may be that both interpretations are correct:  Again, I am reminded of these shoes' resemblance to Plains moccasins, which were produced both with integral (soft) and separate soles.  Separate soles may have been soft leather or hard rawhide.  The lack of additional soles on the shoes at Persepolis may explain why it was desirable to have a band running under the middle of the shoe, for arch support.  In this use I'd be willing to accept veg-tanned leather for rawhide for expediency.

Ankle straps were fairly wide, and were likely soft leather thongs.  I believe the greater width compared to modern leather laces was necessary because the latter are made of a firmer material (albeit not "rawhide" as they are often labeled; real rawhide is too stiff for shoelaces).

Other
Herodotus mentions Persians as having leather clothing (I.72) and this is plausible if it is a very soft buckskin-like material, though I believe that the assertion that leather made up all or even the majority of their clothing in Cyrus' day is an exaggeration; they had, after all, been settled in old Elam for several centuries and raised plenty of sheep.  So I still recommend fabric first.  Bags and pockets may also be either fabric or soft leather.

In the absence of moldable leather, drink containers should either be soft (like wineskins) or ceramic.  Most of the clay canteens from Persepolis were flattened spheres with short necks, essentially like modern ones, even sometimes having cord ears (see OIP 69); those without ears could be carried in bags.  I'm open to the possibility of gourd or wooden canteens, but won't actually recommend them until seeing some evidence.

There is only one item which I haven't found a solution for yet:  the weapon belt.  Because it has to support the weight of a fully-loaded bowcase, it must be a firm material with little stretch, so fat-cured leather would seem a bad choice, but it also has to flex to be worn like a belt, so rawhide doesn't look like a great idea either.  In lieu of good evidence about what they were actually made of, I must continue to recommend veg-tan for this use alone.

Peoples of the empire: The Gandharans

Geographical definition
Gandhara (O.P. Gandâra) was located in the Peshawar and Kabul River valleys in modern Pakistan and Afghanistan, north of the Indus Valley, northeast of Arachosia and east of Bactria.  It was regarded more as part of South Asia than of Greater Iran.  The name is possibly related to Sanskrit gandha, meaning "perfume."

History
Gandhara grew out of Indo-Aryan settlements known as the Gandhara grave culture beginning around 1600 BC.  Gandharis are mentioned in the Vedas, and in the Puranas they are said to be Druhyus who followed King Gandhara north of the Sapta Sindhu.  The country enters the annals of the Persian empire in the Behistun inscrption.  Darius did not conquer it, so he presumably inherited it from his predecessors, likely starting with Cyrus.  In ancient times, its capital was at Pushkalavati, modern Charsadda in the Peshawar Valley of Pakistan.

Gandhara was among the eastern parts of the empire surveyed by Scylax of Caryanda, a Carian navigator sent by Darius in preparation for an invasion of the Indus Valley.  Herodotus places Gandhara in the seventh and poorest tax district, with the Sattagydians, Dadicae and Aparitae, taxed 170 talents all told.  At the Persepolis apadana, the Gandharans are shown together with the Sattagydians bringing a water buffalo in tribute.  They also bring spears and a shield, either as tribute or because the delegation was unusually heavily-armed.  In his Susa palace inscription, Darius says that he obtained yakâ wood (possibly teak) from Gandhara and Carmania.

Gandharans participated in Xerxes' invasion together with the Dadicae under the command of Artyphius, a son of Darius the Great's brother Artabanus.  I have not found mention of them in the major battles.  If they are grouped with the Indians then they may have took part in Plataea.

The history of Gandhara in the latter fifth and fourth centuries is largely unknown.  The Achaemenids may have pulled out of the region by the time of Alexander the Great.  When he arrived in 329, he found no Persian satraps, but instead a number of small states.  He re-founded the old Achaemenid settlement Kapisa (near modern Bagram) as "Alexandria in the Caucasus."  During 326, he and Hephaestion led armies along two routes, himself along the Kunar and Swat rivers and Hephaestion along the Kabul, conquering the Gandharan states one by one.

After Alexander, the country belonged for a time to Seleucus, but in 304 he handed it to Chandragupta Maurya, then a resident of Taxila and advisee of the famous Gandharan political scientist Chanakya.  For about 120 years the country remained part of the Mauryan empire.  Like other southwesterly parts of the Persian empire, it became a frontier between Indian and Hellenistic civilizations.  In the ensuing centuries, a myriad of different powers took control, including (among others) Scythians, Parthians, Kushans, the Sassanid Persian empire and finally the Kabul Shahi, a dynasty of native or perhaps Kambojan origin.

In the early 11th century AD, the Kabul Shahi was laid waste by the Ghaznavids of Afghanistan.  Historians generally consider this the end of Gandhara as well as that particular dynasty. 

Religion
I can find nothing on Gandharan religion in our period.  Gandhara was historically a center of Buddhism, but at this time Buddhism had only begun as a teaching and may not have even reached Gandhara.  More likely, the Gandharans followed early Vedic traditions.

Language
Gāndhārī was an Indo-Aryan prakrit, attested first by several edicts of Ashoka written in the local language in the third century BC.  Iranica Online's article has a section comparing the morphology of the recorded stages of Gāndhārī to Vedic Sanskrit which could give some idea of how the language might have looked during the Achaemenid period.  It is possible that the Kharoṣṭhī script was already in development at that time.  Kharoṣṭhī was used from at least the mid-third century BC until about the third century AD.

Gandhara played a noteworthy role in the development of Indian linguistic studies, as it was here, in the fourth century BC or earlier, that the famous Pushkalavati grammarian Pāṇini documented and codified Classical Sanskrit in his book the Aṣṭādhyāyī.

Clothing
At Naqs-e Rostam, the Gandharans and Sattagydians are dressed in only a knee-length, wraparound dhoti.  The party at Persepolis are more heavily dressed in short-sleeved tunics which also appear to wrap around, as well as long cloaks whose upper corners are not pinned together but instead hang in front of both shoulders down to past the waist and end in small tassels or gathers.  On their feet are flat-soled sandals with thongs around the heel, high on the instep and around several or all of the toes, as well as one connecting the toe and instep straps.  Both representations wear belts or narrow sashes and flat headbands.

Weapons
Herodotus claims the Gandharans had the same equipment as the Bactrians ("reed bows and short spears"), while at Persepolis they and/or the Sattagydians are portrayed carrying only spears and a large, round double-gripped shield, and at Naqš-e Rostam the Gandharan wears a long sword of some kind.  The spears of Persepolis are of a generic Achaemenid appearance (short with small points and round finials) and may not accurately reflect Gandharan styles.  The shield superficially resembles an Argive shield, but this may mean nothing; apart from anything else, it has a fixed hand grip instead of an antilabe.

Fabric dyeing on Orientalism and the Age of Steam

So part four of the "Lady of Susa" series is up, and, wow, I don't think I have the patience or energy needed to carry out something like this, but kudos.

As usual, if you're at work, beware of mildly risqué banner.

If you haven't seen this yet, part three of Orientalism and the Age of Steam's "Lady of Susa" series went up on Monday.

This post is particularly worth checking out because it includes the first reconstruction (at least that I've ever seen) of the Elamite strapped shoes.  These are a must if you're going for Achaemenid court dress.  Kudos to Orientalism and the Age of Steam for taking on such an important project.

Not to be going barefoot

With the two modes of dress went two types of shoe.  The one worn with the robe appears to have buttoned up the instep with three straps, which hung down both sides of the shoe in long, thin triangles.  It had a visible tongue.  In early art (at Persepolis) this shoe's sole, if it had one, is not shown.

The one worn with the cavalry costume was also ankle-high, but otherwise entirely different; it was tied with a strap around the ankle.  It seems straightforward except for an odd feature:  a strap that branched off the one around the ankle and passed under the heel.  It also lacked a visible sole.  The same basic type is seen as late as the Alexander Sarcophagus, minus the under-heel strap, but with a sole clearly illustrated.

This shoe has no visible seams on the toe or outer side, though it could have been seamed at the back or the inner side.  I don't know if Persian shoes were turnshoes or not; of course this wouldn't be possible if their soles were as heavy as modern leather soles.  A good match for the ankle-strapped shoe is the Viking-period Haithabu or Hedeby shoe, which is available from several makers - Bohemond in Albuquerque, New Mexico makes three styles.  I've finally hunted up a pattern and intend to make my own sooner or later.

Another option is to get a pair of short boots from Minnetonka (obtainable from many distributors).  Cut off the fringe and perhaps file down the heels.  These are comfortable, quicker than homemade and cheaper than Viking repros, but they have several flaws:  The crepe sole wears quickly, the suede picks up dust and can't be wiped clean, and the side openings, apart from being ahistorical, let in sand readily (keep in mind that the Marathon battle reenactments are held on the beach).

If you're not used to wearing flat-soled slippers all day, all these options will require supportive insoles.  I increased the arch support of my Minnetonkas by molding wet tissues under the hollow arches of orthotic inserts.

Parthians and some Scythians wore tall boots in this period; I know of no evidence that Medes or Persians wore them.

Next up:  Society, society...