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November 20, 2023

Threads of Time: Linen's Lasting Legacy

The story of linen starts with the cultivation of the flax plant, an essential crop in ancient civilizations. Its transformation into linen marked the beginning of a fabric that would span centuries in its use and significance.

Linen's first notable use was in Ancient Egypt, where it was valued for its purity and lightness. The Egyptians used linen in their sacred practices, including mummification, where they wrapped their pharaohs in this prized fabric. This early use highlights linen's durability and cultural importance.

From Egypt, linen's popularity spread throughout the Mediterranean. In ancient Greece and Rome, linen became a common material for clothing and household items, used by both commoners and the elite. Its widespread use in these civilizations marked the beginning of linen's commercial journey, becoming a staple in daily life and a signifier of status and comfort.

Agostino Brunias. Linen Market. ca. 1780.

The fabric's natural properties, such as strength, comfort, and elegance, made it a preferred choice in fashion and interior design. Linen's breathability was particularly valued in the warm tropical climates, and its durability made it ideal for long-lasting clothing and household textiles.

Dresser cloth. French or Swiss. 1840. 

Linen's timeless appeal is clear in the many historical pieces that still hold their beauty today. These examples of craftsmanship, some from centuries past, blend effortlessly into both past and present designs. It's in this context of linen's enduring quality that my own family story finds its roots, connecting the historical journey of linen to our personal experiences with this textile. 

Mario Bellini for Cassina Tentazione Loveseat. 1970s.

Mies Van der Rohe. Farnsworth House. 1951. 

I was told my great-grandfather exclusively wore white linen shirts, which, to me, were more commonly known as guayaberas. These shirts originated from Cuba and were characterized by their distinct pleats or tucks, typically two vertical rows of finely sewn pleats along the front and back. Although a beautiful feature that showcased the craftsmanship back when they were sewn by hand, these pleats presented a peculiar challenge for him as an avid smoker with age-induced hand tremors. Runaway ashes would often catch in the pleats, slowly burning tiny holes into the fine linen. Despite this, my great-grandfather's dedication to his guayaberas never wavered, drawn to their refined look and the breathable nature of linen.

My great-grandfather. In a linen suit. 1944.

John Wayne and Gary Cooper in Acapulco, Mexico. 1953. 

In the same vein, his daughter, my grandmother, who was an interior designer, also developed a deep fondness for linen. She was particularly enamored with a technique known as "deshilado," or "pulled thread work." This textile art, traditionally practiced in various Latin American countries, especially in Mexico, consists of carefully removing selected threads from the fabric to create a grid or a series of open spaces in the cloth. Wherever my grandma went, you could find a proper table set with a linen tablecloth, detailed with pulled thread work, and matching linen napkins. This textile art form extended to her bed linens, pillows, curtains, and even the hems of most of her shirts. "It's all in the details," she would say, her designs a reflection of her keen eye for the small yet meaningful.

Making Mexican drawn work, early 20th century.

My mother. In crinkled linen. 2022.

My mother, following in her footsteps as an interior designer, kept our family's fascination with linen alive and well. She'd start the morning wearing her staple linen shirts, always perfectly ironed, but would embrace the crinkles as the day progressed, for they only showed the fabric's good quality. Her love for linen soon spilled over into my childhood home, enriching our space with its presence. As she used to say, the subtle texture of linen added layers to a room in the most unassuming but impactful way, engaging our sense of touch with its light roughness, inherent lightness, and delicacy.

As I carve my own path in the design world, I remain loyal to this family tradition, weaving linen into my projects. Its ability to age gracefully isn't just a tribute to my heritage but a nod to the lineage of designers in my family who have profoundly influenced my perspective on design.

Casa Kan. 2019.

Casa Valle. 2020.

Casa Kan 2019.

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