Alessandra Curtis

Military Pin-Stuck Cushions

The world’s only specialist in this subject, holding the largest known collection

For nearly 80 years, from the 1840s to the First World War, servicemen hand-stitched elaborate cushions covered in pins, beads, and regimental motifs, and sent them home to loved ones. Most British households would once have recognised them. They are sometimes mistakenly called “Sweetheart Pincushions.” Today, they survive only in a handful of private collections, and academic study of them is almost nonexistent — public knowledge, where it exists at all, is often incorrect.

Drawing on her own extensive collection, this research uncovers why, where, and for whom these objects were truly made — and what they reveal about masculinity, emotional life, and craft during wartime. Her research was the basis for “The Material Heart: Front Line to Home Front” at the Fashion and Textile Museum, London, and has been presented to the Folklore Society and the Society of Antiquaries.

More from the collection — click to enlarge

London Spirit Photography

Reconstructed almost entirely from primary-source newspaper research

It’s 1872, and a new phase of British Spiritualism is developing. Driven by the Victorian need for evidence of the afterlife, the collodion process of early photography seemed to hold the key to ghost manifestation — a potential upgrade for Spiritualism from faith to science. For a while, a modest studio in fashionable Islington, London, became the centre of mediumistic action, dividing public opinion.

Little has been written on this story. She reconstructed the narrative herself, cross-referencing period newspapers to unpack the phenomenon in full: sitting methods, the human connections and reasons behind why people sought them out, the publicity surrounding the studio, questions of professional standards, and the newspaper rivalry that helped fuel the hype in the first place.

Legends and Legacy of the Whittington Stone

Built on original archive material spanning centuries

The Whittington Stone is a puzzling monument. Resembling a milestone, it sits at the foot of Highgate Hill, marking the border between Islington and Highgate — and encapsulates the essence of Dick Whittington’s story, symbolising resilience and the spirit of London. Its legend goes hand in hand with the development of the city itself, its significance rooted not only in history but in its ongoing role in shaping the medieval city landscape and social-economic development.

This research traces the legend’s roots through original archival texts and chronicles across several centuries, unpacking its folkloric motifs and building on the narrative of the unpromising folk hero archetype. Her work also dwells on the middle-class propaganda the legend carries, and on the possible inspirations behind the story itself.

The Forgotten Working Class Hero: Albert Luxton

Original research, built from scratch — a story previously untold in the history of working-class London

In June 1912, Albert Roy Luxton, a 34-year-old bus driver on Highgate Hill in Islington, realised his bus’s brakes had failed. He steered it away from a crowd of pedestrians, crashing into a pole in Archway, and died a week later from his injuries. Hundreds attended his funeral.

Practically unknown today, Luxton’s story had never been properly researched. She reconstructed his life and death from scratch, using newspaper archives from around the world — and, in the process, uncovered his grave. Her talk goes further than the story itself, examining why Luxton’s death was shaped into a hero narrative at all: a case study in wartime-era propaganda, the manufacturing of heroes, and the lives of ordinary working people in early twentieth-century London.

Engraved Farewell Coins (1752–1868)

In conversation with the field’s leading scholarship

Parting coin keepsakes, typically manually re-engraved legal tender coins, were popular during the early modern period. These durable artefacts represent a form of material culture reflecting absence and separation, showing remarkable resilience over time. While numismatic collectors had previously recognised these tokens, they largely went unnoticed in academic circles until the 1990s. Their revival in scholarly interest can be attributed to Tim Millett, who generously shared his extensive private collection with museums. These love tokens can be categorised into three distinct areas, often linked to themes of transportation, providing valuable insights into how sailors, prisoners, and everyday individuals saw their connections and separations from loved ones.

In conversation with the research of Michele Field, Timothy Millett, Paul Donnelly, Ainslie Greiner, David Hallam, and Claire Tindal.

Foundling Tokens

In conversation with the field’s leading scholarship

Part of the wider story of London’s care for its most vulnerable children, this research explores the Foundling Hospital, which in just sixty years recorded around 18,500 admissions of children left in its care — each, by requirement, accompanied by a small “peculiar thing” left by a parent. Her talks explore the emotional narratives behind these tokens: the devastating choices behind each act of surrender, and the enduring love embedded in objects left behind.

In conversation with the scholarship of Janette Bright, Jennifer Clark, Alice Dolan, Jennine Hurl-Eamon, John Styles, and Maria Zytaruk.

Hairwork: Commemorative and Mourning Art and Jewellery

Original collection; strong scholarly grounding, in conversation with specialist practitioners

Hairwork is the almost forgotten craft of manipulating human hair into decorative designs for jewellery or artwork. Some pieces are purely ornamental, others for commemoration, but all are imbued with meaning, folklore, and ritual significance. Today, only a handful of artisans worldwide continue to practise it. Until the late nineteenth century, however, disembodied hair was regarded as a very precious material, and hairwork was a cherished folk art of the middle and upper classes — a lock of hair seen as a portable human relic, maintaining an earthly bond with loved ones.

Four distinct techniques from the Georgian and Victorian eras are explored here, examining their use for the deceased, the living, or both, and the cultural contexts that shaped them.

Ann Louise Luthi and Hayden Peters remain the foremost authorities on the jewellery itself; this work also engages with the broader scholarship of Karen Bachmann, Helen Sheumaker, Deborah Lutz, and Jane Wildgoose.

The Sentimental Jack Tar: Emotion in Maritime Material Culture

In conversation with the field’s leading scholarship

This research explores the folk narrative of Jack Tar, the epitome of manhood for the whole nation, encapsulated through ballads, imagery, and material culture. This portrayal of the sailor-hero from the working class provides valuable insights into the ideals of manliness prevalent in the late eighteenth century.

Jack Tar’s narrative offers a lens into societal perceptions of men and emotional sensitivity. Seafarers embodied intangible values such as bravery, stoicism, and loyalty, at a time when prevailing military ideals condemned any display of vulnerability, fostering an environment rife with homophobia. Tears, traditionally associated with femininity, were often seen as a sign of weakness in men — making the act of crying, for servicemen, a complex interplay between masculinity and femininity. Yet sailor pottery, popular in British households, depicted Jack Tar as capable of profound emotion, including tears — a man who sacrificed love and home for his country, permitted to grieve without his masculinity being undermined.

In conversation with the scholarship of Joanne Begiato (Bailey) on the sailor’s tear, and Brad Beaven on the social world of sailortowns, alongside the wider work of Matt Lodder, Marcus Rediker, and Maya Wassell-Smith.