Linen is one of the oldest, most versatile, and most eco-friendly textiles in Europe. Made from the flax plant, it is strong, breathable, beautiful, and long-lasting. In the Netherlands, linen has a deep and fascinating history, connected not only to trade and textile production, but also to family life, marriage traditions, and women’s domestic work.

The first records of flax cultivation in the Netherlands date back as far as the 13th century. Over the centuries, Dutch linen production developed into a respected craft, combining skill, patience, and practical knowledge of the land. The Dutch climate, with its temperate weather and fertile soil, was well suited to growing flax, and linen became an important part of everyday life.

Dutch linen was known for its durability, softness, and fine weave. Cities such as Haarlem and Leiden played important roles in textile production and trade, while neighboring regions such as Flanders were also famous for their linen. Across Europe, good linen was valued as a practical, beautiful, and long-lasting fabric.

Linen as a Cottage Industry

Although linen was also produced commercially, a large part of linen production happened much closer to home. On farms, flax was often grown for household use. It was prepared, spun, woven, and stored by women for the family, for and by daughters, for the making of their trousseau.

After harvesting, flax had to go through many labor-intensive steps before it became thread. It was retted, dried, broken, scutched, hackled, spun, and finally woven. The woven cloth was often made on a simple wooden two-heddle loom. These looms commonly produced fabric about sixty-nine centimeters wide, and the finished lengths could be several meters long. Most of the old linen pieces we have seen in the studio are between six and ten meters long.

From this linen, women made sheets, pillowcases, shirts, tablecloths, and other household textiles. These pieces formed part of the trousseau of young marriageable women. Initials were often embroidered onto the linen, marking the pieces as belonging to a particular woman and her future household.

The size and quality of the trousseau mattered. A well-stocked linen closet showed diligence, prosperity, and readiness for marriage. The more linen a bride brought with her, the wealthier and better prepared she was considered to be.

Often, there was also a special set of sheets and pillowcases reserved for the wedding night.

The Burial Shroud

One of the most moving parts of this tradition is that the bride also brought a burial shroud. This was made from the finest linen and stored carefully, often in the top left of the linen cabinet, behind the sheets.

The burial shroud was worn after death. It was usually simple in design: a long, straight linen shirt with three-quarter sleeves and an open neckline. Once the shroud was finished, the needle used to sew it was ritually burned to prevent bad luck.

In this way, linen accompanied a woman through the major thresholds of life: marriage, household, family, and death.

Dookrollen: Rolled Linen for the Linen Closet

Unused woven linen was often folded and rolled into beautiful decorative forms known as dookrollen — pronounced in many areas almost without the final “e” , so: dookroll'n. The word dookrol, most likely comes from the words doek (meaning; cloth) and rol, which unsurprisingly means roll.

These rolls were not tucked away out of sight. These were displayed in the linen closet as a visible sign of household wealth, skill, and care. A new roll was not opened lightly. Only when a shirt, sheet, or tablecloth was completely worn out and had been mended many times would a new dookrol be opened and a piece of linen cut from it.

The tradition of dookrollen seems to be especially known in the eastern and northeastern parts of the Netherlands, including the Achterhoek, Twente, and Drenthe. The way the linen is rolled creates a shape that resembles a heart with two roses: the flowers of love.

The rose on the left is the bride’s white rose, symbolizing purity, virginity, and virtue. The rose on the right is the groom’s red rose, representing the man’s blood and passion. The exact shape of the rolls can vary from region to region, and even from family to family. I have seen different patterns of zigzags and other shapes too.

After the wedding, family and friends would come to visit the newlyweds. A full and beautifully arranged linen closet was considered a true showpiece. On these visits, the men might look at each other’s cows, while the women showed their linen closets.

How Dookrollen Are Made

Creating dookrollen takes strength, patience, and practice. It is not simply a matter of rolling up a piece of fabric.

Two to four women are usually needed to roll the linen properly. First, the linen is washed. Traditionally, it would then be laid out on the grass to bleach and dry in the sun. No fabric softener was used, and the linen should not be ironed before rolling.

The women begin by stretching and smoothing the fabric with their hands. The linen is then folded lengthwise in half, and part of the fabric is folded back again. A length of about two meters is folded in a zigzag pattern, with each strip slightly shorter than the previous one.

In some examples, however, the process is simpler, and the fabric is rolled in from two sides.

A ruler or pair of scissors is placed in the middle of the folded strip of fabric. Then the rolling begins from both sides. The two rolls slowly take shape, forming the characteristic heart and rose pattern.

When the shape is correct, the two rolls are sewn together with a strong thread so that the form stays in place.

It looks elegant and effortless when finished, but the process requires quite a bit of muscle power and a great deal of experience.

Keeping the Tradition Alive

The craft of making dookrollen is now part of Dutch intangible heritage. Like many textile traditions, it survives because people still care enough to demonstrate it, document it, and pass it on.

These rolls are more than simply stored fabric. They represent women’s work, household pride, marriage customs, regional identity, and the value placed on linen as a precious material.

We have Dutch handspun and handwoven linen like this in the studio, but it is becoming harder and harder to find. Often, old dookrollen have already been opened so the fabric can be measured and sold. I will keep my eyes open for more of this historical textile, because pieces like these carry stories that deserve to be preserved.