I am a linen woman.

​A woman of a certain age upon whom life has left the soft lines and gentle draping of years. Someone who has slept long and awakened tired in the buses and on park benches.

I wear it well. I feel comfortable. I am no longer worried about the creases and wrinkles that came during all the moments of all the days and all the years.

I am linen.

Warm in the winter. Cool in the summer. Able to drip dry on a hanger in Mexico or in the bathtub of a 5-star hotel. Don’t rush me by throwing me into the dryer. I take time. Let me be myself. And I will soothe you.

I am a linen woman.

One of many. We are walking among you wiser and softer than our younger sisters. We love them and remember that life when being perfectly pressed and zipped up was the norm.

When it was expected and even demanded.

That time is over. But I do love to see them in their silky beautifulness. Or something tight and stretchy. The slutty and the low cut.

I am a linen woman.

I love them. I was them. I wish them everything good in this world. I watch them turn heads as they walk among us. They are beautiful. Like living pieces of art.

I want them to be safe and feel loved. Because it’s hard to be young, even though it looks effortless.

I am a linen woman.

I’m no longer some perfect shape. Parts of me are stretched and some aren’t. But I have integrity because I am myself. The me who has always been me through all the moments and the days and the years.

I’m at peace in my body. It’s perfectly imperfect and I’m comfortable with everything that has been and will be. It shows in me and on me and I shine through it. Cut from a bolt of fabric that’s meant for real life.

I am a linen woman.

I call out to you on the street or engage you in conversation. You see me because I see you. You touch me because I welcome you. I soothe you with my presence.

I am a linen woman.

I want to hold you. Let me contain you. Let me feel you in my draping. Let me be with you on hot summer nights with the fan blowing, the music playing, and the candles. Fall into my arms. I will wrap you in my folds and bring you pleasure.

I am a linen woman.

I will kiss you. With capacity to meet you and nourish you. Perhaps with more passion than you expect.

I am a linen woman.

This is my time.