Khevsureti sits on Georgia's northern border, high enough that the passes close for half the year. Its women spun and wove *toli* — dark brown, near-black homespun wool — then covered it edge to edge in counted-thread embroidery: equal-armed crosses, concentric rhombs, solar wheels, hooked border chains, stitched so densely that the cloth barely shows.

The colour carries meaning that was written down: red for life and blood, green for rebirth, white for purification, black for protection. Glass beads, pearl buttons and sewn-on silver coins mass at the chest and cuffs. An aged *talavari* front reads from across a room as one warm red field, hard specular points scattered through it.