By John Ennis, Gayfield Projects

FOR centuries Scots were swaddled in linen at birth, dressed in it throughout life, and were shrouded in it for burial. The world thinks of Scottish textiles in terms of tartan and tweed and the role of linen, our oldest fabric, is slipping from collective memory.

Further, linen was our first national industry, an engine of our Industrial Revolution. Enormous numbers of our forebears were involved in growing and processing flax for interior textiles, ropes, sails and uniforms – including the women in charge of key stages like flax retting (rotting), bleaching, spinning and weaving, gendered roles that continued as such well into the 20th century.

The industry helped transform the economy and even gave rise to Scotland’s third bank, the British Linen Company, which stole a march on its competitors as the first to have branches nationwide.

And just as today’s bankers may rue their decision to close so many branches, the Scottish business sector is currently missing a trick by not reappraising flax and linen as materials of the future.

Right now I have a touring exhibition called Our Linen Stories that opened in Leith and is moving on to Selkirk, Kirkcaldy and to Newtonmore by autumn.

The exhibition and talks programme brings together the history of linen and flax with contemporary art and product design and celebrates contemporary material innovation with flax bio-composites.

Our Linen Stories points to the compelling reality that flax and linen are perfect materials for a country that seeks a sustainable, low-waste, entrepreneurial future.

Place a linen shirt beside one made from cotton – for every litre of water used to produce the linen garment the cotton one takes 1,000 litres together with a host of harmful pesticides. Cotton is preferred by manufacturers because it is financially cheaper to produce but today we recognise that true costs include the toll on the environment.

Seen through these eyes, linen is far more attractive: witness interior products by our Design Commissioned artist Felicity Bristow from the Borders and those of Duncan Neil whose latest patterns are inspired by the 19th-century sketches and flower pressings arising from a Scotswomans travels in the Holy Lands.

But that’s barely the start. Perthshire-based Jamie Kunka uses flax to make skis while Dutch designer Christien Meindertsma has used it to create chairs.

In the search for new and sustainable materials for manufacturing consumer goods it turns out that flax is a bit of a marvel. Some 60 per cent of the growth in new materials research comes from bio-composites and it’s here that flax is playing a key role.

For example, Jamie’s skis use a wooden core surrounded by flax fibre bio-composite because it’s stronger than fibreglass and improves damping: in all, 80 per cent of his skis come from grown sources.

This adaptability would have come as no surprise to our ancestors. At one end of the spectrum stunning damask linen was favoured in the great houses while at the other some Scottish linen was so tough that it was used to make sails for ships including Nelson’s HMS Victory.

Unfortunately, it is largely in design-orientated countries like the Netherlands that most progress is being made with new materials and businesses seizing the opportunities that flax and linen can provide. What’s happening over here is much more limited but it’s a start.

I hope that Our Linen Stories will help inspire entrepreneurs and business funders. Scotland’s love affair with linen dates from deep in the past; it’s waned in recent decades but the moment has come for it to be rekindled.

See www.ourlinenstories.com.