Search Results for: indigo dyeing

When Stephanie invited me to share her Indio Dye vat,  I went right to my bin of vintage hankies and pulled out the white ones edged in lace.

(You can read about my day dyeing with Indigo at Stephanies here)

First I had to scour the hankies so the dye would take. I cooked them in water and Dawn dish detergent.

Some I folded and tied with rubberbands to get a Shibori-like design, others I just left plain.

At Stephanie’s, the next day, I soaked them in the Indigo dye vat for 3 minutes.  Then I rinsed them in water and hung them on the line.

When the hankies first come out of the dye they are green.  It’s only when they hit the air, that turn blue.

My folded and tied hankies on the line.

After dyeing and rinsing the hankies had to hang on the line for at least 15 minutes.   Then the whole process begins again.

I had about 20 plain hankies and 12 folded hankies.I dyed my hankies five or six times (I lost count).

I was excited to unfold the hankies I’d tied to see what they looked like.  I got some nice designs, but I’m still not done.  Now I have to wash the hankies in ivory soap until all the indigo dye comes out of it.  They will be two shades lighter once they are washed.

I’m not sure if I’ll make scarves out of the hankies or a quilt or maybe use them in a little of both.

Two years worth of naturally dyed indigo hankies.

Today I pulled the hankies that I dyed in the workshop at the Cambridge Historical Society the summer before last and the stack draped over the dining room chair since July and got to work.

I think it’s the cool weather, I find myself wrapping the Vintage Hankie Scarf I made years ago around my neck.  A thin scarf, just enough too keep my neck warm and look good too.

I was also looking for something different to do in my studio.

My morning began with loading this winters hay in the barn.  That done, I went to the Dollar Store to get a bar of Ivory Soap.  That’s what Stephanie, (who invited me to use her Indigo dye bath this summer)  told me to use when washing then rinsing the indigo hankies.

I grated the soap (so much like cheddar cheese) while boiling a teapot of water.  The soap needs to be melted and it seemed the best way to make that happen.

Wash then rinse and rinse and rinse again and again and again….

…until the water runs clear.

At least nine rinses in hot water Stephanie told me.  And for the hankies that I folded and wrapped with rubber bands, I rinsed them exactly nine times.  But the hankies that were a solid indigo, it took fourteen rinses.

Two and half hours later, my back hurting more from standing at the sink than from moving hay, I put the hankies in the washing machine to spin.

As they dried under my iron they changed color once again.  Sometimes the dye picking up the weave of the fabric.

The lace varied in color depending on the fiber it was made from.

As they dried the subtitles and deep contrasts were revealed.

The linens took the dye more softly, mottled, suede-like.

I truly believed at the start of the day that I’d rinse all the hankies and being sewing them together to make some scarves.  But by the time I got done, it  was late afternoon.  Too late for my brain switch and be creative.

But after doing some shipping and feeding the animals, I did go back to my studio just to look at the  Indigo hankies laid out on my floor.

Even now,  looking at my picture of them all together, makes my mind hum….

I was the first one to arrive at Stephanies house. Even though I’d never been there before, I knew when I knocked on the front door and there was no answer to go to the back yard.

Stephanie was already working,  wearing a floor length apron and rubber gloves up to her elbows, dipping a damp cotton skirt into the vat of natural indigo dye.

Next to the vat was another tub of water for rinsing the fabric.  Between two maples, was a makeshift clothes line, the ropes held up by six or seven tall  forked branches.

Stephanie had emailed me early in the week asking if I’d like to share her indigo dye vat.  I didn’t hesitate, writing back asking where and what time.

I had with me the things Stephanie told me I’d need.  Rubber gloves, junky clothes, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with two small apples and a stack of  white vintage hankies trimmed in lace.

We got right to work.  Stephanie’s  years of teaching weaving and dyeing was evident in the way she casually and clearly instructed me what to do.  I was a bit  familiar with natural dyeing from the workshop I took with Stephanie and Suzanna last summer.

But today was different.

Stephanie dyes with natural indigo about two times a year.  When she does she often invites other women to join her.  Being invited felt like a privilege to me.  I was eager to work, learn and be a part of tradition that humans have been doing for thousands of years.

Stephanie was expecting a few more people to arrive but she wasn’t waiting for anyone.  I helped her hang some of the garments and fabric she had rinsed after three minutes in the dye vat.

Then I soaked the hankies I’d folded and tied with rubberbands, my own version of Shibori, (the Japanese art of tying, stitching, folding and dyeing fabric) in a smaller bucket.  I  didn’t stop soaking, rinsing,  hanging them on the line and repeating the process five or six times till the end of the day.

At some point Stephanie’s neighbors were walking their dogs and  came over to see what was going on.

Three generations of women, the youngest girls old enough to be interested in what we were doing.  Stephanie invited them to bring a tee shirt over and dye it.  She spent a good amount of time teaching one of the girls, who wanted to learn, how to dye her clothes to make them indigo blue.

Soon Adina, her three year old daughter and Susannah pulled into the driveway.  I knew them all, along with Stephanie, from the Community Weaving Project last summer.  That’s when I, along with anyone else who wanted to, got to weave a rag rug on Stephanie’s three hundred year old loom.

Adina had some clothing to dye and her daughter sat and played by herself the whole time.  I was impressed by her ability to entertain herself.

At one point I sat on the grass in front of Susannah who had a basket of wool balls and a bowl of soapy water in her lap.  She was felting the naturally dyed  balls that would become the heads of her puppets.   Like Stephanie, Susannah has been weaving and using natural dyes for many years.

Susannah and I started talking sheep and she told me how she first got sheep because she was curious about the references to them in the bible.

She talked about how smart sheep are, despite their reputation of only being followers, how they each play a different roll in the flock, and how they look to the shepherd for guidance.  I wanted to hear Susannah’s stories.

A shepherd like myself, I found we had the similar feeling and insights about our sheep.

Stephanie’s sister Micky was the last to show up.  She had a bin filled with linens, but also shirts that she used Shibori dyeing techniques on to create unique clothing.

While Stephanie and I hung one of the old sheets that she had dyed and would eventually use in her woven rag rugs, I asked her why she invited people to share her dye vats with her.

She told me she liked to be around women who had a love of fiber and fabrics.

I know just what she means.

Working with fiber, whether its wool,  linen, the milkweed that Adina combines with llama’s wool and hand spins, or repurposed fabric to be made into rag rugs and quilts, is ancient and holistic.   Especially when it involves caring for the animals and plants that are the source of the fiber, which eventually become the clothes we wear, the blankets we cover ourselves with and the rugs we walk on.

The work itself and working together is what makes a day like yesterday special.

And of course the people. Stephanie had invited us to be there, but when the kids from next door showed up she was  happy to have them join in.

As the day was ending the girls came back.  This time they were playing around the clothesline, doing cartwheels under the indigo dyed sheets and linens hanging there.

As I helped Stephanie clean up at the end of the day,  she showed me her weaving studio in the attic of the barn.  A magical space filled with floor looms, fibers and fabrics.

I left Stephanies with my bag filled with  a stack of  indigo dyed vintage hankies,  yellow rubber gloves turned blue, and two apple cores.   Stephanie and Micky gave me a hug in the driveway.

“My indigo friends,” I said them.

Then I  walked towards town where I would meet up with Jon so he could drive us home.  Smiling and sweaty from the day, clothes and hands stained blue with indigo.

Both Stephanie Morton and Susannah White sell their art at the Valley Artisans Market in Cambridge.  You can see some of it here. 

Susannah’s joy was infectious as the pulled the wool roving from the dye bath.  She and Stephanie  were teaching the workshop on dyeing with natural plants at the Cambridge Historical Society on Saturday.

We learned that most plants, no matter their color, will make a dye that is a variation of  yellows, tans, and browns.  Indigo makes blue and a few plants such as Brazilwood, Madder and Woad make a red dye.

Stephanie had two jars of Indigo dye.  There was a good crowd at the demonstration and each one of us accordion folded a cotton hankie then wrapped the ends with rubber bands.  Stephanie was teaching the Japanese dyeing technique of Shibori.

I brought some of the white hankies, that so many of you have given me over the years, and dyed them with Indigo.  I had to boil them in water and Dawn dish soap to remove  the dirt and starch from the before dying.  

Preparing the linen and cotton this way is called Mordanting.  It’s usually done with alum and or cream of tarter, but for my purposes the Dawn worked fine.

The hankie on the left was drying on the line for about 15 minutes after being dyed with Indigo.  The one on the right is the same hankie  in the photo above this one.  You can see how it is changing color.   We dyed the hankies three times.

To set the dye I still need to  wash the hankies in Ivory soap and hot water, again and again until  the dye stops leaching out of the fabric.

Stephanie also dyed some roving using marigold flowers.  I loved the color and have lots of marigolds in the garden this year.  They are actually one of the few flowers that did really well.

There was a lot of information through out the day including the history of dying and fibers, I’ve only touched on the smallest bit of it.  At one point I was standing next to my friend Ute and looked at her and said, “There’s not fucking way I’m going to be able to do this.”

But at the end of the day, I felt like I had grasped some of the the basic information and having had some practical experience,  I thought I might try dyeing some of my linens with marigolds.

When I first heard that there was going to be a Natural plant dyeing demonstration I wasn’t planning on going.  I was feeling that I have enough going on and adding plant dyeing, which takes years and years to learn to do properly, seemed like too much to take on.

But working with  Susannah and Stephanie on the Community Weaving Project made made me curious about dyeing.  They are also both good and generous teachers and when Stephanie offered to let me dye some of my hankies, I could hardly resist.  I wanted to see what they would look like using natural Indigo dye.

Now I’m so glad I went.  Not only did I learn a lot and think I might try some natural plant dyeing on my own (or even better with my friend Ute), but I met a  lot of nice people and  it was just an enjoyable afternoon.

“…as I was looking at your new hanki-quilt that the words “January Thaw” kept coming to mind. I think the faded blue and white colors were reminding me of the melting ice- very pretty.”  

That’s a message Esther sent me in an email.  And I couldn’t agree with her more. I’ve been seeing my shibori designs and colors all around me in the ice, shadows, and snow.

I’m not sure if it’s the winter colors that inspired me to do the Indigo Shibor dyeing, or if I’m seeing the world around me differently because of it. But I’m not surprised. Everything I make is influenced by my perception of my surroundings.