I stumbled upon this antique lace table cloth hidden in my mom’s linen closet, the cloths fabric was a little distressed, the lace worn out and discoloured so understandably my initial impression was one of bewilderment, why on earth has mom held onto this for so long?!
Out of curiosity I pulled the cloth out to get a better glimpse and as I ran my hands through the material, the stitches, the worn out bits, I immediately had the most beautiful fabric orgasm one could pretty much ever experience.
This antique table cloth has been around for generations, can you imagine the life experience this piece of fabric has mustered over its lifetime, the history behind the design and the pattern and the hearty story behind its rundown bits. How I wish that piece of fabric could grow a mouth piece in that moment in time, just tell me the adventures it’s been through.
Folding the cloth back into place I chuckled to myself at my ridiculous desire and then got hit another orgasmic thought. I so badly wanted this piece of cloth to speak back to me neglecting to acknowledge that this world is filled with woman who are made up from fabric that is simply invaluable. Women who have scars, history, life experience and woman who have tremendous stories to tell about the adventures they have encountered.
This piece goes out to all the moms with engrained stretch marks from experiencing the beauty of childbirth, grandmothers with wrinkled hands that can teach the value life lessons, aunts who ever so freely offer opinions about the quality of the male specie out there and older sisters who are friends God has attached for life. Conclusively to all the other types of impeccable fabric out there, and to the history and experienced you have congregated over your life time, I salute you!