Tân Châu

Tân Châu stands on the Tiền river close to the Cambodian border, and in the early twentieth century it was one of the great silk towns of the Mekong. Mulberry grew on the alluvial banks, families raised silkworms and wove at home, and the town’s plain black silk was worn across the south. The finest grade took the name Mỹ A, and lãnh Mỹ A became a byword for quality: a fabric for the áo bà ba and the trousers of women who could afford to be well dressed.

The trade shrank sharply in the second half of the century, as cheaper fabrics arrived and the mặc nưa dye became slow work few young people wanted. Today only a small number of families weave and dye in the old way, alongside a larger output of machine-made cloth sold under the same name. Where it survives, the process takes weeks: the fruit is crushed, the woven silk is soaked in its juice and spread in the sun, again and again, the colour darkening with each pass.

Good lãnh Mỹ A is deeply black with a soft shine, not a hard gloss. It drapes and falls heavily, feels cool, and does not rub off on the hand. Look closely and you may see a subtle woven pattern in the cloth, visible only when the light catches it. The colour should be even across the length; patchy or brownish areas suggest a short dyeing. Real Mỹ A silk is said to grow softer and more lustrous with washing.