Velvet chokers: history, colors, and symbols
Hello,
I’ve been making quite a few velvet chokers, and I wanted to share some of their complex history with you. These pieces have such a long and layered story, from ancient protective amulets to the French Revolution, the Victorian era, and later goth and witchy fashion. In this blog, I talk about that background, the meaning behind the black and red velvet I often use, and the symbols I’ve favored. You might already have velvet chokers, or maybe you are thinking about getting one, as it’s such an out-of-time and fascinating piece of jewelry, and knowing more about what they represent can add depth and meaning to the necklace you cherish.
The history behind these pieces
Chokers aren’t new at all. People have worn things tight around the neck for thousands of years. In ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia, they were often made with gold, beads, or protective amulets. During the Middle Ages, some noblewomen wore chokers with religious pendants, especially medals of Saint Sebastian, because they believed it could protect them from the plague.
The neck has been seen as such a powerful yet vulnerable spot throughout history. Unlike a longer necklace that drapes down the chest and draws the eye toward the heart or solar plexus, a choker sits right against the throat. In ancient times, people believed this narrow band of jewelry could shield one of the body’s most exposed and essential areas from harm, evil spirits, or illness. It felt more like armor than decoration. A long necklace might flow gracefully and show off status from a distance, but the choker guards and highlights the throat itself, adding that layer of protection right where we’re most delicate.
The version we recognize today really took shape in the 18th century. Before the French Revolution, wide silk ribbons and chokers were already a favorite among the French aristocracy and nobility, a clear sign of wealth and status. Then the Revolution turned everything upside down.
The French Revolution began with huge hope: people wanted liberty, equality, and an end to the old monarchy that had left so many starving and powerless. For a while, it looked like things might settle into something better.
But by 1793, fear took over. France was at war with most of Europe, there were uprisings inside the country, and the revolutionary leaders became convinced that enemies were everywhere. That’s when the Reign of Terror began (roughly September 1793 to July 1794). The government, led by the Committee of Public Safety and figures like Robespierre, decided that “Terror” itself would be the order of the day to protect the Revolution.
Hundreds of thousands of people were arrested on suspicion of being counter-revolutionaries or simply not being enthusiastic enough about the new regime. Around 17,000 were officially tried and guillotined, and another 10,000 or so died in prison or were executed without any real trial. What surprises a lot of people today is that the victims weren’t just nobles or royals like Marie Antoinette. The majority were ordinary French people: shopkeepers, farmers, craftsmen, priests, women who spoke out, and even former revolutionaries who fell out of favor (like Danton). Accusations could start from something as small as a neighbor’s grudge, a careless comment, or being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a time of deep paranoia where fear and power struggles turned the Revolution against many of its own citizens.
In the months after the Terror finally ended with Robespierre's own execution, some of the survivors, especially relatives of those who had been guillotined, started gathering at private events known as the bals des victimes (the victims’ balls). These were dancing societies where people had to prove they had lost an immediate family member to the guillotine just to get in. Attendees showed up in mourning clothes, with short “guillotine cuts” (hair cropped at the nape like the condemned), and women often tied narrow red ribbons tightly around their throats. That thin red line, that could be a beaded choker, was meant to mimic the exact mark left by the blade: a raw, visible reminder of the cut that took their loved ones. For many, it was genuine mourning and a way to say “we remember what happened to us.” For others, it was mixed with defiance or even a kind of grim, macabre humor, dancing wildly as if to reclaim life after so much death. The whole thing had this eerie, almost gothic energy celebrating survival.
The style even crossed over to England, where some women wore red ribbons either as a political statement or to mock the chaos happening in France. Because the ribbon was such a simple, visible thing with no words attached, it was easy for people to read their own meaning into it. That’s what makes this piece of history so layered: the same strip of red could signal deep sorrow in one context and cruel teasing in another.
In the Victorian era (roughly 1837–1901), velvet chokers became extremely popular and carried a double meaning. On the respectable side, they were high fashion. Queen Victoria’s daughter-in-law, Princess Alexandra of Denmark, made the wide “dog collar” style famous.
She wore elaborate velvet, pearl, or diamond chokers to hide a scar on her neck, and suddenly every fashionable woman wanted one. Black velvet versions were especially common as mourning jewelry, fitting the era’s interest with death, ghosts, and the afterlife. They looked refined and elegant.
At the same time, a simple thin black ribbon choker was also strongly associated with prostitutes and courtesans in France and parts of Europe. You can see this clearly in Manet’s famous painting Olympia from 1863, in which the model wears only a black ribbon around her neck as a deliberate signal.
So the exact same piece of jewelry could mean high-society elegance for one woman and open sensuality (or a certain profession) for another. Ballerinas also wore them to make their necks appear longer and more graceful on stage.
The choker never fully went away, but it resurfaced with new energy in the 20th century. In the 1970s punk movement, people turned chokers into spiked leather “dog collars” as an act of rebellion against polite society. Then in the 1990s they exploded again in gothic and grunge scenes. Velvet chokers and thin tattoo-style bands became everyday wear for anyone who wanted to look a little dark, alternative, or witchy. They felt rebellious without trying too hard.
That long thread, from ancient protection, through aristocratic luxury, revolutionary defiance, Victorian double meanings, punk attitude, and modern goth/witch culture, is what makes these pieces interesting. They carry centuries of stories right against the skin.
Black and red: why these two colors?
I work mostly with black and red for these because both carry clear energy.
Black feels protective and grounded. It’s tied to mystery, strength, and inner power. In Victorian times, it was the main color for mourning.
Red is more intense. It goes straight back to those French Revolution ribbons: blood, passion, courage, and survival. Red feels alive and bold when you want to carry that kind of fire.
Some pendants and what they mean
- Sword: Stands for clarity, protection, and cutting through what doesn’t serve you. In ritual work, it’s like the athame: focused will and boundary-setting. Wearing it at the throat reminds you to speak clearly and stand firm.
- Triple moon: Represents the Triple Goddess: Maiden, Mother, and Crone. It’s about the cycles of life, intuition, and the moon’s phases.
- Triquetra: The Celtic knot that never ends. It symbolizes interconnectedness: life, death, rebirth, or body, mind, spirit. It’s simple but carries a feeling of balance and eternity.
- Lilith sigil: Lilith is the wild, untamed feminine energy: independence, rebellion, sensuality, and refusing to be controlled. Her sigil feels like a reminder to own your full power without apology.
- Lucifer sigil: As the Light-Bringer, this one is about knowledge, enlightenment, and the courage to think for yourself. It’s less about darkness and more about awakening and walking your own path clearly.
This choker associates the sigil of Lucifer, the sigil of Lilith, and the inverted pentacle.
That’s it, really
At the end of the day, these velvet chokers are a quiet way to wear a piece of complicated history right against your skin. The soft velvet, the strong colors, and the symbols all come together to create something that feels both old and very personal. If you enjoy this kind of history and symbolism, maybe one of them will resonate with you.
I’d love to hear what you think or which part of the story stood out to you.
Talk soon!