I used to run a vintage-reselling side hustle. My wardrobe was bursting with polyester, puffed sleeves and pleats – each garment crying out for a new lease on life. But it was paisley, the iconic pine-cone motif with its fanciful form and vibrant tones, that would create a sense of utmost hysteria in my customers. People would lose their minds over it – as if they were high on LSD or a hallucinogenic of similar ilk. If it was printed on a ’60s midi dress? Forget about it. They may as well have been experiencing an episode of hippie euphoria.

What many of my fearsome vintage vixens perhaps didn’t realise, however, is that the cultural origins of paisley date back far before the mid-20th century. Any claims the aforementioned era asserts upon this popular motif are completely and utterly flawed and require a full and thorough analysis.

Known as a boteh (bush) in Persian or buta in countries such as India and Turkey, the pretty little paisley – with its almond shape and distinct curved tip – has its roots in ancient Persian civilisation (aka modern-day Iran). But there is much speculation around its exact origins. Some say it was the Zoroastrian religion – one of the oldest faiths in the world, dating back to the sixth century BCE – that served as the first influence on the design. Such thinkers sit around and pontificate that the shape represents a convergence of a floral spray and a cypress tree – an ancient Zoroastrian symbol of life, eternity and strength which also closely resembles the Zoroastrian symbol of fire. Others refute such blasphemy, claiming the pattern’s shape bears more resemblance to a teardrop and has its origins in the Sassanid dynasty – an Iranian empire that reigned in the first several centuries AD.Either way, there seems to be a common denominator. Paisley was born in the East, ages ago. Over the years, and throughout the numerous Persian dynasties that Iran took pride in (ask any Iranian, and they’ll tell you without fail how the Persian empire once ruled half the world), the ornamental pattern has adorned royal regalia, crowns, shawls, tablecloths and many a Persian carpet. Traditionally, the motifs would be arranged in perfect rows, woven using gold or silver thread, and contrasted against a plain background. They have even decorated a whole bunch of architectural monuments and mosques.

It was between the 15th and 17th centuries that the design started spreading throughout South Asia. Shawls laden with paisley were transported to the region of Kashmir (the birthplace of cashmere, in case the connection wasn’t clear there) in the northern Indian subcontinent, and became quite the fashion statement among emperors and the elite. It was here that the shape became more associated with a mango, or ambi in the mother tongue. Then, in the 18th and 19th centuries, trade between the East and the West meant the luxurious shawls were imported to countries including France, England and Scotland. The rest is (Western) history.

The very first place in the Western world to imitate the design was the town of Paisley in Scotland, which became the major producer of local paisley shawls. At first, Westerners dubbed the print “pine and cone” before officially hailing it with its eponymous moniker.

Indian-made Kashmir shawls were pricey, but thanks to the AI of the time – the good old Industrial Revolution – mass production meant everyone could have their shawl and flaunt it too. The town of Paisley produced loom-woven shawls on both handlooms and Jacquard looms, later moving to printed paisley. This added to its affordability, and led to cheaper versions across the market. But nobody wants to be seen wearing the same thing as a commoner, right? So as tends to happen after a peak in popularity, the paisley trend died out and by the late 19th century, people weren’t losing their minds over it anymore. Could also have had something to do with the cost of living, mind you.Cue the 1960s, when the iconic pine cone decides to make her long-awaited return, bursting out of hibernation like a peacock butterfly spreading her colourful wings after a drawn-out winter season. Pop culture makes a point of celebrating its newfound love affair with the East, owning Indian designs like paisley. Unlike the days of yore, however, where classic paisley patterns were subdued and less vertiginous, the psychedelic designs of this time featured bold, swirling motifs coupled with vivid, kaleidoscopic colours. It was a perfect fit for an age of experimentation, rebellion, spiritual renewal and vibrancy. The Beatles adored paisley. Mick Jagger and Jimi Hendrix adorned themselves with it. Designers Mary Quant and Emilio Pucci incorporated it into their collections. Music festivals like Woodstock were drowned in a sea of revellers clothed in tassels, tie-dye and teardrops, and Fender embraced the pattern on its guitars. It’s no wonder we all associate paisley with this rad and raving period in history. It became synonymous with the ’60s and ’70s and, in particular, rock ’n’ roll culture.

Today, the groovy motif continues to make its mark, including in fashion houses Saint Laurent, Burberry, Dolce & Gabbana and Gucci, and on neckties, bandanas and scarves. It’s also long been a fixture for cowboys and influences interior design. Loads of places and spaces apply the decoration to wallpaper, pillows, curtains, bedspreads and, of course, Persian rugs.

In our humble home, the paisley-printed tasselled tablecloths and Persian carpets hand-woven by my grandmother serve as a reminder of my own roots. The culture that runs deep through my veins and the veins of my children. When I see those cypress-looking forms, with their pretty little tops, in their pretty little rows, bespeckled in glitter and gold, I think about the expansive influence Eastern art has had on our lives and how the symbol of eternity is still going strong, all these thousands of years later. Go figure.

This story comes straight from the pages of issue 126. To get your mitts on a copy, swing past the frankie shop, subscribe or visit one of our lovely stockists.