The Art Of Caring For White Clothes (Even Silks & Wool)

Two products and one easy ritual is why I wear delicates everywhere—even while feeding chickens & donkeys

We just wrapped the most beautiful Maypole celebration on the farm last weekend. Max made an especially beautiful mugwort spiral at the base of our pole, flower-covered cakes were eaten, and everyone showed up dressed head-to-toe in whites and soft neutrals. There’s something about a group of people in those hues—so chic. Seeing everyone dressed like that reminded me why I live in whites year-round. I always have. Summer whites, winter whites, the cream tones of spring, and the foggy grays of autumn.

The truth is, I’m deeply enamored by raw materials and natural tones (cru)—the soft shades of raw silk, varied raw tones of natural undyed fleece (wools), old linen left out in the sun. Each tone feels unique and alive. And there is a frequency to the hues worn during moments that mattered: birth, prayer, marriage, and initiation.

That said, I did spend an unmentionable amount of time last week on Etsy sourcing hand-bobbin lace accessories—and more importantly, Victorian lace curtains for our Victorian house that we are restoring. I fell down a deep, very specific rabbit hole of Irish bobbin lace (which is practically its own universe), and then wound up oohing and ahhing over Edwardian whites (my favorite period of clothing)—those blouses and dresses covered in hand-stitched embroidery and lace so fine and immaculate, telling a floral story decoded only by the eye of the beholder. I don’t fit into any of them (corsetry was still very much a thing), but that doesn’t stop me from admiring every tiny detail. And I do fantasize about starting a high-end line of Edwardian-inspired dresses that we all can fit into—or getting a custom tailor to make me the pieces I dream of. I digress.

All of this ties into something that I’ve coined as An Heirloom Life. I’ve begun a massive life edit—paring everything back to what actually feels stunningly beautiful with lasting quality. We’ve been tackling the basement full throttle, and honestly, the only baby clothes I kept were the pieces my partner Max made, and tonal wool knits I’d want a maybe-someday baby #3 to wear. The rest was gifted to a friend about to have her second baby.

I only wear natural fibers—wool, cotton, linen, silk. Linen was once used to wrap mummies because of its longevity. Wool can literally purify the air around it—not to mention that it is water- and mold-resistant. I use wool exclusively as insulation in my home remodels.

So before I send out the upcoming Heirloom Life roundup I’m working on, I thought I’d start with a question I get all the time: “How do you wear white around a toddler, a baby, five dogs, barn animals, and gardening—and keep it clean?”

The truth? I never shy away from it. I feed animals in white. I rotate three white couch slipcovers weekly. I air dry wool on the line and take weird satisfaction seeing everything folded just so in my closet. My Capricorn moon lives for this kind of care.

I don’t dry-clean much. I don’t baby my pieces. But I do have a very dialed-in system for keeping natural fabrics (even silk!) looking pristine with very little effort—and zero toxins.

So in this note, I’m sharing exactly how I do it. The unsponsored, never gifted, fully tested favorites I use to care for my white wardrobe, woolens, and linens—and still live life to the fullest with a baby crawling all over me after playing in a dirt pile.