Lint, écru, met roomkleurig doorstopwerk c. 1920

Editor: Right, let's talk about "Lint, écru, met roomkleurig doorstopwerk," or Lint, ecru, with cream-colored darning work, created around 1920 and housed here at the Rijksmuseum. The material, of course, is textile. Initially, it strikes me as delicate and domestic, almost quaint in its simplicity. What captures your attention most about this unassuming textile? Curator: Oh, quaint it certainly is! But underneath lies a whole world. It whispers to me of mending and making do. Of course, the Great War was barely over. Think of the clothes being repaired again and again…the intimate labour embedded within each tiny stitch. Editor: That’s such a different take than mine! So, is the cultural context really informing the aesthetic here, in your opinion? Curator: Absolutely! Each visible repair has a tale. Can you imagine the number of garments being mended with precisely this kind of fabric, keeping the memory of loss alive? In the post-war gloom, something hopeful in repairing something, to keep things as normal as possible. Editor: So it’s not merely a functional textile; it carries all this weight. Does the title "Lint" – like for bandaging – also have anything to say? Curator: Precisely. It is a humble word. However, let us also ponder: are wounds to be dressed purely physical? It appears as if these textiles had great power in soothing suffering of every kind, and knitting people together! It could even mean something now... I look at it as it hangs here and ponder our lives in the shadow of conflict. A roll of fabric offering an invitation of comfort and care! What is that saying about us? Editor: This is beautiful! Now I see more than a quaint textile – it’s about perseverance, resilience, and the power of the everyday. Thanks for enlightening me. Curator: The pleasure was all mine. We're all constantly stitching, repairing ourselves. Isn't life strange, that this roll of fabric teaches us so much?