There was a time when business contacts would see Sandra Thomson and shout the greeting: “Here comes the bag lady.” Now, they welcome her with a name that better reflects one of her life’s enduring passions. They call her the jute lady.

At home in Dundee, Thomson is the last working link to the once powerful jute industry. By finding alternative uses for the natural fibre with impeccable green credentials she is spearheading a revival. Thomson’s jute products range from clothing and jewellery to coffins.

Thomson and her mother took over her father’s jute firm 24 years ago at a time when the industry was in steep decline. Synthetic materials had replaced plant fibre and many of Dundee’s jute barons had sold up, allowing production to be moved to India, where labour costs were cheaper.

Initially the intention was to wind down and close the company. Thomson, however, found the versatile product fascinating and conjured up ideas as to how it could be used differently. In the past jute was thought of as a rough, sack-like material used primarily for packaging. Thomson initiated dying it, smoothing it out and, eventually, wearing it.

She began experimenting with carpet yarn, roofing felt and shopping bags, which led to her first nickname.

Then, three years ago, she unexpectedly veered in a different direction: funerals. “I went into the office and said, ‘Why don’t we try a jute shroud?’ ” she says. “Everybody thought, ‘What’s she talking about now?’ ”

Thomson’s timing was impeccable. Jute is 100% biodegradable and her jute shrouds complemented the growing market for green funerals. Soon Thomson’s repertoire included coffins, urns for the ashes of loved ones, caskets, and books of remembrance.

Jute coffins are proving popular. Several layers of the plant fibre are compressed tightly together to make the jute boards that are used to build the coffins. They look wooden, and feel wooden, but they break down quicker in the soil than hardwood coffins and produce lower emissions when used for cremations, Thomson says.

“People cannot believe that jute looks like a board,” she adds. “They think of jute as old hessian sacks, so when they see the jute coffin, they’re pleasantly surprised.”

Thomson’s connection with jute stretches deep into her family background. She was born in Calcutta and moved to Scotland to attend boarding school at 14, soon followed by her parents. Her grandfather worked in a jute mill and her father took over a local company called McGregor Balfour Holdings.

When her father passed away 24 years ago, she and her mother assumed control of McGregor Balfour. “When my father died, I diversified the business into carpet yarn, roofing felt, jute sacks and webbing, for about 18 years,” she says. “There are about 600 uses for jute, starting with jute soup. I was one of the first people doing jute bags, then I moved to fashion bags, bottle bags, jute jewellery and paper.”

She was stubbornly swimming against the tide. The last jute factory in Dundee closed in 1999, but Thomson kept persevering. Utilising her ability to speak Hindi, which she learnt growing up in India, she developed contacts with small, family-run jute mills in the subcontinent.

Thomson remains a kind of crusader.

She is regularly invited to give talks on jute, and its historical links with Dundee, by schools, rotary clubs and WRVS groups, often turning up wearing a jute blouse. “Jute gets into your blood. I kept thinking that there must be something else we can do with it.”

Eight years ago, when she took samples of her bags to shops in the city, she received little encouragement. Supermarket chains were then focused on plastic bags. In a sense, she was ahead of her time — pitching her products before consumers were converted to non-plastic alternatives.

“To be truthful, I couldn’t have afforded to take on the business of producing maybe one million bags,” she admits.

At a crematoria fair in Newcastle last week, Thomson received inquiries from businesses in the US and France. Having been involved in developing the boards to make the coffins, she has also been contacted by building surveyors.

Although she still makes some jute bags, as well as jewellery and packaging, it is the funeral business that Thomson wishes to focus on. Even pet funerals are becoming more environmentally friendly, she says.

Coffins made from bamboo and willow are growing in popularity, but Thomson’s firm, JFunerals, is the only one offering jute coffins.

In a city that once boasted 50,000 workers in the jute trade, Thomson has only four employees, but the jute lady is intent on maintaining a link with the past.

Times Recommends

• DIY video helps the WI get to grips with sex
• Artists urge nation to save Titians
• Go home, Iraqi leader tells Britain