Travels WITH MY MOM
I first went to Ireland when I was seven years old. It was my first trip “across the pond,” and I found myself envisioning wild and shaggy ponies galloping across the moors. I remember being disappointed when we landed at the airport in Dublin – not in an emerald green field as my father had promised. Of course, my dad has the Irish gift of the gab – as well as a propensity to tease me at every opportunity. But he was right about a few things: The weather was misty, we did stay in a tiny stone cottage in the countryside and woolly white sheep did dot the hillsides (alas, no wild ponies). I remember that vacation vividly. Perhaps it was the magic of the place or the fact that it was the last family trip we took before my mom passed away a few years later.
When I was in my teens, I came across the travel diary my mother kept throughout the trip. In it she wrote about the meals we had ( porridge every morning!) and listed the yards of fabric she bought as we travelled. My mother made beautiful clothes and was fascinated by Irish linen.
Though I have visited Ireland a number of times since 1979, it was the trip I took last fall that allowed me to retrace my mother’s linen route. Well, it wasn’t her exact path, but my mom was on my mind as I toured a number of different linen manufacturers, from a small artisanal business to a mechanized large-scale operation. All the mills were steeped in history, and everywhere I went I learned about the passion the Irish have for producing linen.
Last year’s trip was with Style at Home home & style director Ann Marie Favot and photographer Stacey Van Berkel. Our story on the history of linen and how this special fabric is used to decorate is in this issue (see “The Lure of Linen,” page 63). It seems the beauty of Irish linen has become as much a part of my life as it was for my mom.