And the winner for Linen, My Summer Friend is Mr Sandilya Vadlamani. Congratulations!! You will receive your Linen gift pack shortly.
To know the latest from the Linen Club keep checking our Facebook page.
And the winner for Linen, My Summer Friend is Mr Sandilya Vadlamani. Congratulations!! You will receive your Linen gift pack shortly.
To know the latest from the Linen Club keep checking our Facebook page.
Life can be pretty unforgiving at times. Once I had eight essays to complete, two articles to finish, two and a half copies (for arguably the silliest of all ads) to conceptualize and had already crossed the deadline (by leaps and bounds). I felt anything but nice. My cellphone did its bit by flooding me with countless calls. So much so that it became a terror every time I heard it ringing. To add to it my day at office was nowhere worth mentioning. A highly forgettable one that is.
When I came home I was not even remotely interested in what was happening on television, which my folks insisted I must not miss. And I was so terribly hungry that even the dogs felt sorry for me.
I felt chafed, I felt sore. I desperately needed something to calm my senses down, absorb the anxiety that engulfed me in a stifling way. A pounding headache was the last thing I had wished for. My eyelids fought hard to prevent themselves from getting caught by the world of darkness they were chased by. But then it dawned on me the work was getting piled up.
I did not know which way to go.
The bed, that was right in front of me, was, perhaps, the only thing in the big wide world I was not feeling bugged at. It was spread with a classy and pristine linen bedsheet and its white colour stained my soul with purity. All I could imagine was to bury myself in it, to crash in. I thought a power nap would provide the much needed relief and respite from the craziness of the daily life, so what if it was for a few moments. Having set the alarm, I quietly wrapped myself with that soft white linen sheet and closed my eyes. The touch was divine. The feel was ethereal. I just wanted to lie down quietly and enjoy the coziness of linen till the clock lead us all to same moments of eternity.
When I woke up, I felt much better. Revived and rejuvenated. Because this was the path I had chosen for myself and I realized that cribbing about it was a manifestation of futility.
This is an excerpt of a letter I received from a teenage girl who on her tenth birthday received a Linen dress as a gift from her grandmom and the dress is still in unbelievably good condition.
“There are times when I wonder, how long a thing can keep serving us, however precious or insignificant it might be. After all, everything, well almost, comes with an expiry date. It isn’t possible for it to go on and on forever. Sad enough, everything around us is chased by the depreciating factor and gradually succumbs to wear and tear as if time erodes it.
I had this dainty little linen dress which my beloved grandma had stitched for me on my 10th birthday. I flaunted it for a couple years but ultimately overgrew it. And for years it belonged to that part of my closet which was very special to me. Countless washes had made the fabric softer and even more absorbent.
After her death, I tried to find out ways to preserve the remains of that little white dress for I believed it carried her blessings and her gentle touch and by then, this fibre, which is considered holy by many, had literally become sacred to me. I found out that this natural fibre did not need to be dry cleaned and could be washed by hand and would respond equally well in a washing machine. Mild detergent, cold or lukewarm and preferably soft water was required to wash such a fabric. The care manual was pretty simple too.
Unclean linen attracted mildew and therefore advised against keeping it dirty. Immediate washing off a stain without much delay, hanging it on a line to dry while it is still damp, without wringing it much, along with the exposure to direct sunlight would help in retaining the crisp linen smell. I also learnt that chlorine bleaches were not recommended in case of linen. Apart from pressing dark linens on the wrong side and the whiter ones on any side, a spray starch made the process of ironing easier. It was considered best if articles made from that fabric was stored in cloth bags.
So I tried my best from letting that precious little dress come under the ravages of time that is bound to leave its impression on whatever it lays its hands on. I wanted to defy time and I think I did it…”