나는 항상 저널의 마지막 장을 주머니에 넣고 다닌다

I Always Have the Last Sheet of My Journal in My Pocket

いつも日記の最後の一枚をポケットに

There are moments when we realize that an object, once deemed trivial in our busy daily lives and hardly spoken of, has silently stood its ground, holding within it the history of humanity. And when we begin to see that object differently, we recognize a shift in our own perspective. I experienced such a peculiar joy through The Pocket by Barbara Burman and Ariane Fennetaux.

The Pocket is a book that closely examines the significance of pockets in the lives of women from the 17th to the 19th century. Unlike men, who had pockets sewn into their garments, women used separate fabric pouches tied around their waists. These pockets were more than just storage tools; they were deeply connected to women’s daily lives, social standing, economic independence, and creative activities. The authors highlight how these pockets served as crucial spaces for women’s craft-based creativity and personal narratives.

Chapter 1, “Oh Pockets-Pockets-Pockets!”, explores the concept and historical origins of pockets, explaining the differences in their forms and usage between men and women. While men’s trousers and jackets had built-in pockets that allowed them to carry personal belongings easily, women had to use separate fabric pouches tied around their waists or concealed within their clothing. This distinction was not merely a matter of practicality—it also functioned as a constraint on women’s mobility and economic activities. In fact, during the early 20th-century Suffragette movement, activists criticized the absence or reduction of pockets in women’s clothing, recognizing them as symbols of economic autonomy and mobility. The disparity in how men and women used pockets reflects broader social structures and power dynamics embedded in the history of dress.

Chapter 2, “‘Work’d Pocketts to My Intire Sattisfaction’”, highlights instances where women made their own pockets through sewing. They designed their own patterns, selected fabrics, and carefully embroidered their pockets, turning them into expressions of their identities and sensibilities. One woman’s pocket, for example, was adorned with her family members’ initials and an embroidered image of the small house in their village, illustrating how pockets were not merely decorative but also deeply personal artifacts reflecting their owners’ worlds.

As the global textile market evolved after the 17th century, a wider variety of fabrics became available, and women accumulated knowledge about selecting durable and practical textiles. The choice of fabric for pockets was influenced not just by fashion but also by the realities of daily life, with different materials being used depending on class and occupation. In this way, pockets served as a crucial intersection between production and consumption, personal life and society, showcasing a particular facet of material culture shaped by changing times and environments.

Chapter 3, “So Many Things”, analyzes the various objects women carried in their pockets, while Chapter 7, “I Always Have the Last Sheet of My Journal in My Pocket”, examines how women used their pockets as private spaces for personal records. In an era when women had little access to private spaces, pockets became one of the few places where they could store personal belongings. For women like Hetty in George Eliot’s novel Adam Bede, pockets were places of sentimentality and secrecy, spaces where they could preserve dreams and explore their identities. In this sense, pockets were more than static storage tools—they were dynamic, ever-changing spaces. The small scraps of paper stored inside moved and transformed with each opening and closing of the pocket. This movement was particularly evident during the laundry process. Laundry workers would empty pockets before washing, often discovering forgotten letters, coins, or small keepsakes, revealing how pockets functioned as living spaces that preserved and restructured memory and time.

Chapter 5 discusses how, from the 17th to the 19th century, women’s pockets carried social and cultural significance. Women stored account books and documents in their pockets to record their financial activities, managed their daily lives with small notebooks or pocketbooks, and even used their pockets as mobile libraries, carrying books while on walks or writing while traveling. Ink stains found in some pockets suggest that women actually carried writing instruments inside them. This underscores how pockets were not only practical storage spaces but also tools that facilitated intellectual activity and inquiry.

The pockets explored in The Pocket function as both discreet storage tools and extensions of human experience, aligning with the concept of the “extended self” proposed by Russell Belk. Belk argues that objects we own become part of our identity, playing a crucial role in shaping memory and self-perception. For women in the 17th to 19th centuries, pockets were not just places to store belongings—they were spaces for preserving personal records, expressing economic agency, and navigating societal structures.

So, where does this notion of the “extended self” reside in the modern world? Think of an object that you may overlook in daily life but always keep close—an item that reflects who you are or holds your memories. This book may serve as an opportunity to reconsider the everyday objects we take for granted, allowing us to view them in a new light.

Seohee Kim

© Textum Club. Some content is copyrighted by original authors and publishers. Unauthorized use is prohibited.