Tushetian Wool: From Mountain Sheep to Yarn and Warm Homes

High in the mountains of northeastern Georgia, there is a place called Tusheti.

In summer, the hills turn green, and flocks of sheep graze across the mountain slopes. Small stone villages sit between the valleys, and shepherds spend their days looking after their animals.

It is a beautiful part of Georgia. But behind those peaceful mountain views, there is also a long history of hard work.

For generations, the sheep raised here provided much more than milk and cheese. Their wool became yarn, warm clothing, colorful rugs, and things that people used in their homes every day.

And that is the part of Tusheti I would like to share with you.

The Sheep That Followed the Seasons

Life in Tusheti has always been closely connected to the mountains.

The summers are suitable for grazing, but winters are harsh. For shepherds, keeping sheep meant moving with the seasons.

During the warmer months, flocks grazed in the high mountain pastures. As the weather grew colder, shepherds brought their animals down toward the lower lands of Kakheti, where they could spend the winter.

These journeys were long and demanding. Shepherds sometimes spent extended periods away from home, caring for their flocks along the way.

Over time, local people developed a breed particularly well suited to this way of life: the Tushetian sheep.

These sheep are relatively small but strong. They can travel long distances and manage on mountain pastures where other animals might struggle.

Their wool is also special.

It is often white, with a natural shine and good strength. Although it belongs to a relatively coarse-wool breed, it has qualities that make it particularly useful for making rugs, cloth, and felt.

It may not be the kind of wool you would choose for the softest sweater against your skin. But for a durable rug or a warm piece of felt, it has much to offer.

And in Tusheti, people knew how to make good use of it.

When the Fleece Came Home

Shearing was a regular part of the shepherding year. Traditionally, Tushetian sheep were shorn twice a year.

One interesting detail is that the wool was not quite the same in every season.

Spring wool was generally finer and softer, while autumn wool was coarser. Different qualities of wool could be chosen for different purposes.

After shearing, the fleece still needed plenty of attention before anyone could spin it.

Traditionally, wool was sorted by its colour and softness. It was then washed, carded, and spun by hand.

If you are a spinner, you already know how much work can hide inside those few words.

Washing removes dirt from the fleece. Carding opens and separates the fibres, making them easier to work with.

And then comes the part we all know so well: adding twist.

Loose fibres that could easily pull apart gradually become yarn strong enough to knit or weave.

It sounds simple when we describe it like that. But making good yarn takes practice, patience, and an understanding of the wool in your hands.

For Tushetian families, this work was not just a hobby. The yarn would eventually become things they needed.

A pair of socks. A piece of clothing. A bag. Perhaps a rug that would stay in the family home for years.

The Colours of Tusheti

Not all wool needed to be dyed.

Natural shades were useful on their own, especially for practical textiles. But Tushetian weavers were also known for the beautiful colours they brought into their work.

Traditionally, they used natural dyes made from plants and other materials available around them.

Roots, leaves, bark, and lichens could all have a place in dyeing.

There is a lovely small detail in the ethnographic records. People distinguished between dye materials found in the mountains of Tusheti and those brought from the lower lands of Kakheti.

Even the colours had a connection to the different places where Tushetian families lived and worked throughout the year.

Old Tushetian rugs often used a fairly restrained range of colours: white, black, grey, blue, green, yellow, and deep red.

The designs could be colourful, but they were not necessarily complicated. Geometric patterns were particularly common.

Of course, these methods also changed over time. By the second half of the nineteenth century, synthetic dyes were finding their way into Tusheti, just as they were elsewhere.

Not every old textile was made with natural dyes, and not every family worked in exactly the same way.

That is worth remembering. Traditions are part of everyday life, and everyday life changes.

What the Wool Became

When we think about traditional textiles, we often imagine large, beautiful rugs.

Tusheti certainly had those. But some of the most interesting woollen things were much smaller.

Women knitted patterned socks and a special kind of woollen slipper called chiti.

These slippers were made in different styles and could have soles made from stitched wool. They were both practical and decorative.

Wool was also used for bags, clothing, and equipment connected with travelling and working with horses.

Then there were the rugs.

Tushetian rugs were traditionally woven on upright looms. Many featured geometric designs and carefully chosen colours.

They were not made only to look beautiful.

In mountain homes, woollen rugs and coverings helped make living spaces warmer and more comfortable. Some were made for family use, while others became part of a young woman's dowry.

Imagine how different a stone house would feel with woollen textiles covering parts of the floor or walls.

There was another important use for wool, too: felt.

Unlike woven cloth, felt does not require yarn. The wool fibres are worked together, traditionally with moisture and repeated rubbing or rolling, until they form a dense material.

In Tusheti, felt was used for several purposes, including hats, household coverings, and protective clothing for shepherds.

One traditional garment was the nabadi, a thick felt cloak that helped protect shepherds from cold and difficult weather.

For people spending so much time outdoors, this was a very useful thing to have.

I find this variety fascinating.

The same animal could provide wool for a patterned slipper, a woven rug, or a heavy shepherd's cloak.

Each required different knowledge, different work, and sometimes a different part of the fleece.

The Women Behind the Wool

There is something important we should not forget when talking about Tushetian textiles.

Much of this work was traditionally done by women.

While many men were occupied with shepherding and the seasonal movement of flocks, women carried out a great deal of the wool preparation, spinning, knitting, dyeing, weaving, and felting.

These were not small tasks.

Ethnographic accounts describe girls learning textile skills from a young age. As they grew older, they became more experienced in knitting clothing and weaving larger pieces.

Knowledge was part of family life.

A woman might spend many hours preparing wool before she could even begin making the textile she had in mind.

And then there was the work itself.

A rug needed careful weaving. A pair of socks needed the right shape and fit. Felt required experience to produce a useful, even piece of material.

It was practical work, but there was plenty of room for creativity.

We can still learn about these skills from surviving textiles and museum collections.

At the local history museum in Kvemo Alvani, for example, traditional Tushetian rugs, clothing, and accessories are preserved.

Life has changed, and we should not pretend that every old method has continued without interruption.

But the surviving textiles tell us a great deal about the people who made them.

Not just what they knew, but what they needed, what they valued, and how much skill they brought to ordinary objects.

Why This Story Matters to Me

When I started Kravelli in 2022, I wanted to build something around my interest in fibre arts, wood, and useful handmade tools.

Kravelli is a Georgian fibre-arts brand, and our wooden spinning tools are made in our workshop in western Georgia.

My part of the work is developing ideas, designs, wood combinations, and the creative direction of the brand. Skilled Georgian makers then bring those ideas to life, working with the wood and making the tools themselves.

The more I learn about the history of fibre crafts in Georgia, the more interested I become in the people who worked with these materials before us.

Tushetian wool is one small part of that much larger story.

I do not think of Kravelli's modern spinning tools as direct descendants of the tools used in old Tushetian homes. That would be a historical connection we cannot simply assume.

But I do see something familiar in the work.

There is the care taken in choosing materials. The understanding that a useful object should feel good in the hands. And the satisfaction of making something that another person will enjoy using.

For me, learning about these traditions is not about trying to recreate the past exactly as it was.

It is about understanding the people, the materials, and the skills that were part of life here in Georgia.

And I like being able to share a little of that history with people who love spinning and making things today.

Perhaps the next time you sit down with a spindle and some wool, you will think for a moment about the journey the fibre has already made.

In Tusheti, that journey began with a flock of sheep moving between mountain pastures and the valleys below.

From there, it passed through the hands of shepherds, spinners, dyers, knitters, and weavers.

And eventually, something as simple as sheep's wool became part of a family's everyday life.

That is a story worth remembering.