The word 'velvet' is, at its core, a word about hair — about the soft, raised surface that gives the fabric its defining quality. The Latin root 'villus' meant 'shaggy hair' or 'tuft,' and the same concept of tiny hair-like projections links this luxurious fabric to the anatomy of the human digestive system.
'Velvet' entered English in the fourteenth century from Old French 'veluet,' which came from Old Provençal 'velut.' The Provençal word derived from Medieval Latin 'villūtum' or 'vellūtum,' an adjective meaning 'shaggy' or 'tufted,' formed from Latin 'villus' (a tuft of hair, shaggy hair, the nap of a fabric). The -ūtum suffix indicates possession of the quality: 'villūtum' is 'a thing that has villus' — a thing that has shaggy pile.
Latin 'villus' is related to 'vellus' (fleece — the sheared wool of a sheep), from which English derives 'vellum' (originally a writing surface made from calfskin, distinguished by its smoothness from rougher parchment). In biological terminology, 'villi' (the plural of 'villus') are the tiny, finger-like projections that line the interior of the small intestine, enormously increasing the surface area for nutrient absorption. The connection to velvet is direct: both the fabric and the intestinal lining are characterized by a surface covered with tiny raised projections.
The fabric itself has a history older than its European name. Velvet weaving — which involves a complex technique of cutting loops in an extra set of warp threads to create the raised pile — was perfected in the medieval Islamic world. Cairo was a major center of velvet production, as was Baghdad. The fabric reached Europe primarily through Mediterranean trade, and Italy
The expense of velvet — requiring more thread than any other fabric because of the double-warp technique — made it a symbol of wealth and power. Sumptuary laws in medieval and Renaissance Europe restricted the wearing of velvet to the upper classes. The phrase 'velvet glove' (as in 'an iron fist in a velvet glove') captures the dual nature the fabric has always embodied: softness concealing strength, luxury concealing power.
The linguistic family of 'velvet' in European languages reveals different approaches to naming the same fabric. French 'velours' and Italian 'velluto' share the Latin 'villus' root. German 'Samt,' however, comes from a completely different source: Byzantine Greek 'ἑξάμιτον' (hexamiton, 'six-threaded'), referring to a luxury silk fabric — the word was borrowed through Old French 'samit' and Middle High German. Spanish 'terciopelo' takes yet another route: it means literally 'three-haired' (tercio = third + pelo = hair), describing the triple-thread technique used in pile weaving. Three different European languages named the same fabric after three different characteristics: its shagginess (English/