Passementerie has always had a particular relationship with thresholds. The hem of a garment, the edge of a curtain, the border of a cushion, the fringe of a tablecloth: these are the places where one thing ends and another begins, and they are precisely where the craft concentrates its attention.
This is not accidental. In the grammar of interior space, edges carry a disproportionate amount of meaning. A curtain trimmed with passementerie signals that what lies beyond it is considered, private, composed, that the room on the other side of that threshold has been thought about. The trim at the border of a domestic interior is a quiet declaration of intent, the material equivalent of closing a door carefully rather than letting it fall shut.
What passementerie decorates is never quite the object itself.
It is always the moment where the object meets the world.