I have been known to collect postcards of a particular variety. The typical postcard in my collection is made of paper, measures five and a half inches long by three and a half inches wide, and dates around the first few decades of the twentieth century. All of my postcards depict women of colonial North Africa and the Middle East.

The process of collecting, for me, has uncovered a tightly knotted continuum within the gut of representation. Mostly published by European studio photographers who spent time inside the colonies, the postcard was treated as a record of anthropological interest. Each image is assigned a number in a series, identifies its publisher, and bears a brief description of the ‘scenes’ and/or ‘types.’ These postcards are mass-produced images that were originally collected and sent around the world in a manner not unlike the internet: viral (albeit slow-moving), bringing there here.

I’ve chosen some favorite postcards from my collection for the brief set that follows. I hope you will enjoy.

Femme Mauresque / Moorish Woman: Published by Neurdein Bros. (ND Phot.) 14 TI am the fabric of your wrap. I am dark gray cotton first encircling your waist, with a span that reaches down to your calves. I am your public skin, brought up and over your shoulders, as a hood around your head, still with inches to spare. You hold me in place by the cinch of your fingers.

Femme Arabe / Arab Woman: Published by Neurdein Bros. (ND Phot.) 1183 TI am a pair of embroidered slippers. I have shoed the feet of many women for the man taking your picture. I am miscellaneous finery, an aesthetic counter-point to the rumored harshness of this desert locale.  Admittedly, I am untrue to you – I played the very same role in the preceding postcard.

Arab Woman with Water Bottle: Title on reverse: Femme allant chercher de l'eau / Woman going to find water
Published by Lehnert & Landrock (LL) 37I am a clay jar. Designs are scored around my girth while I am still wet, then I am left in the sun to harden. I am fecundity objectified: a uterus, two fallopian tubes, and a vaginal opening. You hold me askance at the rim of a dry fountain, in the shade of an off-season grape arbor.

Femme Arabe Portant le Couscous / Arab woman carrying couscous: Published by Neurdein Bros. (Collections ND. Phot.) 91I am sunlight on your sullen face. You endure me, keeping completely still for the merciless photographer. I draw interest to the creases and repairs stitched on your dress.  I bring attention to the one hand (still cramped) that recently switched its burden to the palm of the other. 

Jeune Marocaine / Young Moroccan: Published by J. Boussuge in CasablancaI am the walls of a grand interior. I am the matrix inside which you develop your well-attended eccentricities. I dutifully enclose your space so that you may host dignitaries and dine with diplomats. The heavy bulk of your hair inadvertently brushes against me countless times.

Juene du Maroc / Young person of Morocco: Published by Schmitt in RabatI am a studio backdrop. I pretend to be a wall and a window, with curtains that parallel the drape of your shift. A plinth offsets my artifice and exaggerates your softness; you cautiously rest a closed hand on it. Were you to climb atop that platform and propose a rebellion, would you tear me down?

Deux Femmes Arabes / Two Arab Women: Published by Ephtimios Fréres, Port SaidI am the combed hair on both your heads. I am in disarray after you pull off your abayas (at the photographer’s request). For anonymity, I am the fashionable cylinder that hangs over the bridge of your nose. For courage, I am your hand clasping hers. For incongruity, I am digits clutching hems.

Une femme Mozabite / A Mzabite Woman: Published by Collection Idéale PS 263 I am the threshold of your dwelling. You keep one foot in, one foot out, and a hand pressed along the doorway’s perimeter. I am made of gray granite, a color between the black and white of your striped dress. In another life I may be a hearth, and you may wear the color of fire.