Why Irish Linen is a Hero Fabric, Crumples and All

“Does it crease?” asked a Skibbereen market goer as she considered the Sarah Shirt (above, optional tie belt not shown), in a tone that conveyed her hope that it didn't and her suspicion that it most probably did. Natural fibre fabrics pretty much have a tendency to crease, to show the place on the sleeve where your elbow bends or how sitting down results in folds to the back and front of your skirt, but I like that it shows the life you live and that you truly live in your clothes. Why do things have to be perfect? Why is it not acceptable to display that our bodies move and clothes take on our shape? I don't mind ironing and many garments do look better for an initial iron, but I'm not sure it's necessary to always have clothing starched and pristine.

Sarah Shirt in Irish linen

Irish linen plays a core role in my collection due to it's history, low carbon footprint, ethical and ecological credentials, but ultimately I like the feel of wearing a garment made of linen, as do many others. It's cool to wear in the summer and warmer in the winter than you may think. I love the heritage of Irish linen and feel that I'm literally carrying a tradition as I wear garments made of Irish linen. Linen has good ecological credentials as the flax requires much less water to grow than say cotton and as it's grown in the EU it's produced to EU legislative regulations.

The experience of working with linen holds pleasures too, as the scissors cleave cleanly through the cloth when cutting our the pattern pieces. Whilst linen is a very structured weave, it's also surprisingly malleable, making it a dream to manipulate and sew.  

On Phil Spencer's Stately Homes on Channel 4, he visits Chatsworth House in Derbyshire, England.

The Head Housekeeper shows him the linen table cloth in the Grand Dining Room (frustratingly, she didn't say it was Irish linen, but I think there's every likelihood it was). Table linen is one scenario where in my book at least, ironing has a place. The table seated around 40 guests and I don't know the length, but it touched the ground on either side of the table and was both wide and long. The incredible thing was that it had an embroidered cipher that included the date 1891, signifying the year it was woven. That's nearly 130 years of service!

My response to the 'does it crease' question was along the lines of 'absolutely'. The way linen behaves as a fabric may not be for everyone. In the early 20th century as 'modern' man-made fibres were introduced, one of the selling points of these synthetic, often petrochemical based fabrics, was that they didn't crease, making linen seem old fashioned and less desirable. When I began dressmaking in the 1980's, it was so out of favour that linen simply wasn't available in fabric shops, except for 'linen effect' made of synthetic fibre. Later, having overcome the conditioning of disliking creases and instead embracing them, the crumples, as I prefer to call them, are a part of the charm and character of of the extremely durable Irish linen.

Tip; After laundering, if possible, hang the garment on a hanger to dry in the open air and if the results are to your taste, you may find it doesn't need ironing at all.

Tamsin ✂️

A New Year (ethical) Resolution

Sewers (as in someone who sews) are often exceptional collectors of fabrics, trimmings and buttons and we have cherished relationships with our respective collections. I realised long ago that the enjoyment I get from acquiring new supplies and imagining what they could be made into is almost as fulfilling as completing the finished piece. Visualising options – so may possibilities! - is a necessary part of the design and planning process. It might look like daydreaming to some, but there's a lot going on behind those faraway eyes.

My own selection habits have had to sharpen up, taking into account how garments made in different fabrics have to hang together as at least some kind of coherant collection. I've had to broaden my gaze as I'm not only choosing shades that I'm personally drawn to, I need to consider colours that suit other complexions and tastes. Still, I find myself experiencing that magpie twitch when faced with a gorgeous sample of fabric or exquisite button. I'm improving at resisting the temptation of buying without knowing quite what I'm going to do with it. Without a plan, these compelling new supplies are both charged with opportunity and a rueful reminder of that already over high fabric pile.

Recently, a couple of likeminded textiles addicts have offered me lengths of fabrics that they, too, have hoarded over time. With the proviso that I'll only use natural fibre fabrics, I've acquired a new stack of small amounts of irresistible fabrics. Interestingly, these unplanned adoptions are less emotional than the ones I make on my own. Alone, I fall for colour combinations I rarely see, prints that evoke something from the past or a novelty that I think I'll never come across again. Whereas the fabrics that have been bequeathed to me, lovely as they are in their own right, present more of a design challenge to figure out how to incorporate them. The challenge of using what I already have is not only my challenge; before buying more and more, I think it's important for all of us to remember what we already have and consider if there is a way to re-purpose or re-use before opting for introducing more new material – any kind of stuff, really - into the world. To me, a resolution is a promise you make to yourself and it doesn't need to be scheduled by the commencement of a New Year. If a resolution is to be made, then make it whenever. So, my Un-New Years Resolution is to be discerning and considered with my acquisition of the new and embrace the challenge of using what already exists.     

Tamsin  ✂️

Linen As An Ethical Fabric

How much do we know about the fabric our clothes are made of and it's environmental impact? Looking at the labels in our clothes will tell us whether they are made of natural fibres like cotton or wool or from synthetic fabrics derived from petrochemicals, such as nylon and polyester. There are various aspects to consider when understanding how ethical a fabric is, including the use of pesticides and fertilizers, water consumption and the pollution caused by treatments such as dying and printing the fabric. Fabrics made from petrochemicals are highly polluting and the production of these fabrics is a named cause of global warming; nitrous oxide is release during the manufacture of nylon and is a known powerful greenhouse gas. In addition they are non-biodegradable which means they don't break down easily and remain in landfill for centuries after they've been dumped.

Linen is one of the worlds oldest fabrics, dating back to 8000BC and the antithesis of nylon, polyester and other synthetics. It is believed that the flax plant, from which linen is made, was grown in Ireland as far back as 1000BC and there is certainly evidence that Irish linen clothing existed 2000 years ago. Linen clothing must have been widely worn by the population of Ireland in the 16th Century as Henry VIII wrote to the town of Galway telling them to cease using excess amounts in their shirts and smocks and the limit was set at 7 yards per garment. However, the decree was mostly ignored and up to 30 yards of linen was often incorporated and was very likely a necessary means to keeping warm in the damp Irish climate (although 30 yards seems like a huge amount for one smock).

Up to the early 1800's, Ireland was self -sufficient in growing flax for linen, but good cultivation practices were neglected and the quality suffered. Supplies of superior flax became available from Europe after the ending of the Napoleonic Wars and flax began to be imported from Belgium and Germany from this time. During the 20th Century, the arrival of man made fabrics caused linen to be regarded as old fashioned and demand for linen clothing fell. It was only at the latter part of the century that interest was revived in natural fibre fabrics and Irish Linen's unique quality appreciated. Nowadays, the term Irish Linen refers to fabric that has been woven or knitted in Ireland and contemporary Irish Linen is acknowledge worldwide as being of the highest quality

Irish linen isn't certified organic, but it's ethical credentials are good. The flax used is brought in from France, Belgium and the Netherlands, which means the workers and the environment are protected by EU laws regarding working conditions, pay and ecological impact. And the carbon footprint is low compared to importing the raw material from countries on the other side of the world. The cultivation of flax uses much less water and fewer pesticides than cotton. After harvesting, the crop is laid out in fields to 'ret' allowing the linen fibres to naturally separate, the seeds are removed and used for cattle cake or linseed oil and the bark is used for chipboard - no part of the flax plant is wasted.  These are welcome practices for sustainability.

The fibres in linen fabric are very strong making it highly resistant to tearing and it's stability as a fabric means that garments retain their shape and don't shrink. The reason linen is so popular in summer is that it's light and cool to wear and conveniently absorbs perspiration, but there's no reason why it shouldn't be worn all year round. Linen clothes are easy to launder and will withstand numerous washes as the fabric actually becomes stronger when wet. If correctly looked after, linen clothing has the potential to last a very long time, which combined with coming from a renewable resource and being biodegradable, makes it an ultimate sustainable fabric.

A characteristic of linen is that it creases easily, although new technology is developing different finishes which are 'easier' to care for. The wrinkles identify linen as linen and you either love the look or you don't. I was brought up to think that creases were undesirable and fabrics that creased should be avoided or repeatedly ironed - perhaps the result of how the 'new' synthetic fabrics were marketed, back in the day. However, I've come to love the creases in linen; when you first put on a freshly laundered linen garment it's crisp and a little stiff. After an hour, the first creases stand out like lone footprints in the sand. By the end of the day, the garment has softened, draping in a way that only linen does with tiny, multiple creases that crisscross, reflecting the life lived that day. Of course, polyester doesn't crease and never needs ironing, but where is the sense of history and charm in that?

Irish Linen is durable, but it's durability is meaningless unless we rethink our attitude to clothes shopping and how we regard our clothes. The number of clothes that we buy has increased massively in recent decades. Clothes shopping has evolved so that buying as many items for as little as possible has become something to boast about. The reality is that we've been persuaded by clothing brands and the media that this buying habit is a good thing, something to be commended, but the reality is that it's not right; in so many ways, it's really not ok. We need to begin valuing each individual garment in our wardrobe, starting by choosing something that we truly love wearing, then taking care of how we launder and maintain it when it needs repairing. It is a different way of thinking about the clothes we own and Irish Linen, with it's heritage and elegance, should merit a place.