Dyeing

I’ve been dyeing. That sounds somewhat alarming, doesn’t it? English can be marvelously frustrating. Consider the words die and dye. They sound the same, yet are spelled differently and contain a wealth of different meanings. The dyeing I’ve been doing adds color to wool yarn I’d spun. The color, and substance, I’ve been dyeing is indigo. There definitely are some alarming aspects to the endeavor and repeatedly I have found it marvelously frustrating. It all goes with trying to make a National Dress, but more on that elsewhere. Today the topic is merely dyeing, and the focus is the alarming frustration I’ve “enjoyed” with indigo.

In May 2010 I spun some lovely yarn as carefully as I knew how and aimed to have it be 2 x 80 tex. More on Tex and me another time. The goal of this yarn is for the belt of that national dress I mentioned. The belt is a woven band, and yes, more on that is coming sooner than some of the other threatening topics already mentioned. Once the yarn was spun and finished, sorry no details will be forthcoming for a long while yet, I was ready to dye it. Since I seem to love doing everything the hard way, I had planned to dye the yarn with indigo.

I turned to Jenny Dean’s helpful book Natural Dyeing and began following her indigo recipe two, which calls for yeast and expects the dyepot to turn “indigo white” over a period of days as the yeast does its thing. Two plus weeks into the process the dyepot was showing no signs of changing from dark blue to “indigo white”. Let me add that indigo needs to have that color shift or the dye won’t take, or won’t dye the fiber. The dyepot had been sitting in my oven for the 2 weeks on a nice low temperature. I needed my oven for food. So I emptied the first dyepot, cooked supper, and the next day I started a second attempt at a dyepot. Same result. I was merely frustrated.

I turned to Heather, my mentor and spinning teacher, and bored her to tears with my agonies over the indigo dye. Sensibly she responded by sending me the type of indigo she’s used, some washing soda (needed to assist the process), and some powdered urea which actually causes the indigo to turn “indigo white”. She also sent her own instructor and mentor’s, Paula Vester, indigo dying instructions.

I began soaking the yarn as I read the instructions carefully four or five times that evening. The next morning I got out my entire collection of dye pots and equipment and began… only to realize that there was a gap caused by my not having been to Paula’s course where I could have seen what was going on and benefited from the wealth of unwritten tacit knowledge of an experienced craftsperson – something which may be visible or which they may not convey unless asked but which a novice cannot always “read between the lines” to gather. I muddled along and hoped for a miracle.

I carefully measured and mixed the indigo with water and added it to the pot, I added the washing soda. Then it was the urea’s turn… that got sprinkled on top and yes the dyepot bloomed or flowered and I skimmed that off, saving it in a glass jar – which was soon looking threateningly full – and wondered if saving it was worth the effort, and would I ever buy shaving cream to try the dyeing experiment that Paula suggested, and, if I did, what I would try it on, and if I didn’t where I could safely dispose of it. Meanwhile I was bringing the yarn into warmer and warmer water so that it wouldn’t be too shocked at the hot dyebath.

Finally I was ready to dye. I wasn’t, but I did it anyway. Into the pot went the first skein of yarn. The “few” minutes which the instructions recommended went by too quickly, and then I was hauling the yarn – a green color - out of the dyepot. The range hood was in the way. I grabbed my other dyepan, empty, and used it as the catch pot for the drips as I continued hauling the skein out of the pot. Then I hung it up to air so the blue could develop and took the second skein of yarn and got it into the dyepot.

Complete alarmed, because the instructions warned that the high alkaline dye could make the wool brittle, I got the first skein into a rinse bath before taking the second skein out of the water. Let me add here two details which I learned later:
1. do not panic! Allow the color to develop even if it means the yarn dries completely before rinsing
2. the best color comes from repeated dipping in the indigo dyepot followed by an “airing” of at least 20 minutes.

Ice blue


Well the skeins turned out a nice “ice blue”. I did re-dip both skeins, but really couldn’t see any difference in the depth of color. I also dyed some silk hankies, and they are still that same ice blue. I’m contemplating dyeing the hankies again or leaving them as they are. Ah, the blue I was aiming for is a deep almost navy blue. I don’t know if I was more alarmed or more frustrated. I was alarmed at the possibility of damaging the wool, having it become brittle. I was frustrated because the blue was not the deep dark blue that I wanted. I washed, soaked, rinsed, and dried the yarn completely frustrated and dispirited. I emailed Heather, poor dear! How frustrated she must have felt, I can only imagine.

After a while I regathered my courage, cleaned up the dyepot, pouring the old dyebath out on some bushes I’d rather like to kill – they will probably flourish – and started the whole process over again. This time I compared Vester’s instructions with Dean’s instructions: and gained very little insight. I tried Googling for further hints and tips… Whatever I sought eluded me. I know exactly what I need: the tacit knowledge that comes only through the terror of that inexorable “do it again, and again” experience!

Darker but irregular:


The second round resulted in darker shades of blue – very pretty actually but quite obviously the dyeing was irregular as I’d put both skeins in the pot and crowded them. Frustration? Oh yes. So I emailed Heather again asking if I could possibly get Paula’s email so I could go the source.

And a wee aside here regarding the second round… The jar with the flower or bloom spilled over, solving the problem of what to do with it. Mop-up showed that there is a permanent blue spill on the cabinet next to the stove and on the floor by the stove. Attempting to get the blue out with bleach resulted in bleaching part of one tee-shirt and the front of a skirt. Frustration? Don’t even ask! I must continue to live in this apartment for at least two more years at which time the kitchen is scheduled to be redone and evidence of this particular dying disaster will vanish.

Paula was wonderfully helpful. I did get something that will pass for the desired blue that I want. I learned a lot, and when I have the yarn spun for my skirt I will probably use Ashford dyes to dye it, although I will likely miss the depth of color in the indigo I don’t anticipate missing the alarmingly tense frustration. Will I ever dye with indigo again? But of course, probably after the kitchen is remodeled!