A Costuming Idiot's Guide to
Basic Natural Dyeing:
how I managed to luck into the perfect color without
having a clue about what I was doing!
I have been interested in learning about natural dyeing for many years, but I always was a bit intimidated
by what seemed like a technical and laborious project. And to be perfectly honest, it is, or at
least can be... but I ended up working out my own dumbed down version of the dyeing process, which still
resulted in some fabulous colors without very much knowledge or effort!
To start out, I knew I wanted some shade of pink or red for my Florentine
dress project, so I checked out the types of natural dyes that would have been available in Italy at
the begining of the 16th cenury. I discovered by reading The Silk Industry of Renaissance Venice by
Luca Mola that the red palate was the most important range
of hues in the Renaissance fabric trade, with at least six different red dyes available at the time, and
three treatsies written between the mid-15th and mid-16th centuries which focused their attention on working
with these materials. The silk that I was dyeing was not a very high quality, so I originally chose madder,
which now as it was then, is fairly inexpensive, easily obtained, and yields bright, stable colors that
range from orange to deep red.
I then ordered 8 oz. of madder and 1 lb. of alum from
Dharma Trading Co. While waiting for that to arrive, I spent a week or two reading up on natural
dyeing techniques in various books such as The Art and Craft of Natural Dyeing by J. N. Liles, the
NaturalDyes group at Yahoo, and any other place that I
could find any info on the subject. The one thing that I quickly realized was that there are as many
different ways to dye as there are dyers, and everybody seemed to have good results as long as you are
pretty open-minded about the final color. One of the most reassuring sites that I found dealt with
cold water madder dyeing, which really gave me the courage to to quit worrying about complicated recipies
or precise temperatures and just jump right in!
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| scouring the silk |
The first step with any form of dyeing is to scour the fabric to get rid of any oils or chemical residues
that could interfear with the absorption of the dyes. For this step, I threw the silk in a pot of water
with a scoup (4 oz.) of Ivory Snow detergant and let it simmer on low heat for about an hour. I then just
rinsed it thoroughly until it no longer felt slimy.
Next, I used the alum to pre-mordant the fabric. Most natural dyes have an ability to stain fabrics
on their own, but to truly create a permanent bond betweeen the color and the fibers you have to add
some sort of mordant. These have been made of a wide veriety of materials throughout history, including
chrome, copper, tin, or even dung and fermented urine... but since alum seems to be the most common and easiest
(and least nasty!) choice, I just went with that. To apply the mordent, I dissolved 8 oz. of alum in warm
water and let the silk soak in the cooled bath overnight. The alum apparently works after as short of a time
as one hour, but longer periods and higher concentrations produce brighter or darker colors. Although
some accounts suggest leaving the fabric in the mordant bath for up to a month, one day was as long as
I could stand to wait!
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| the madder dyebath |
To prepare the madder, I decided to crush the roots a bit to help it release the color faster. Even though
they were pretty tough and woody and it did require a little bit of work, I was able to break the roots
up into fairly small pieces with a mortar and pestle. I then put 4 oz. of the broken-up madder into a
bag made from hankerchief weight linen, although I later realized that works better to use synthetic materials
(I've read that pantyhose work really well!) so that the bag doesn't soak up too much of the precious dye. The
bag of madder was then left to soak in a small bowl of water for a day to soften it up and get the dyes
flowing. The next day, I added the bag of madder and water to a large enamel pot with more warm water.
As a side note: if you use an enamel pot, make sure it doesn't have any chips in the surface becuse the
exposed metal can change the color of the dyebath. I wanted to make some test swatches
before doing the real thing, so I put a long strip of the silk into the bath and then proceeded to cut off little pieces
at various intervals over three hours. After that, since everything seemed to be working pretty well, I
chunked the silk in the pot and just let it cook while stirring it from time to time and anxoiusly checking
the color. Unfortunately, I ran into a bit of a problem at this point. While the little swatches were working
just fine and dyeing to a deep, glorious red after only a few hours, my 13 1/2 yards of silk maxed out
at a dissappointing medium orange no matter how long I left it in the dyebath. I even added another
4 oz. of madder to increase the concentration of dyes a bit more, but it still refused to go red.
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| rinsing the cochineal |
Round 2: Although my tangerine colored silk would have been perfectly period and would have looked lovely
on somebody else, it was quite ghastly with my pale complexion and red hair. So I ordered some more madder
with the thought of trying for red again, and just on a whim, I also got a 2 oz. package of cochineal as well,
which was supposed to make bluer shades of pink and red. Cochineal is a type of insect dye that was found
in the New World, but has the same coloring agent as kermes, another insect dye used to make the most coveted
crimson fabrics during the Renaissance. Becuase the chemical properties are the same, kermes and cochineal
produce almost identical colors, so technically, cochineal would not have been used in Florence before
the 1540's, but the results are pretty much the same either way. Even today, cochineal is quite expensive
($12.95 for 2 oz.), and since I didn't want to waste too much money on an experimental project, I only
ordered the smallest amount possible and didn't have much hope that 2 piddly oz. would do much good
since 8 oz. of madder couldn't do the trick the first time around. But in this case, I was very wrong!
After re-mordanting the silk for another night, I then put the whole uncrushed insects in a bag and soaked
them in a small pot of simmering water, which produced an amazingly strong dyebath. Once the insects
softened up again, they would release a bright blood-red liquid when squeezed (one of the grosser things I've
seen lately!), but when added to my local water, the bath turned deep purple. When I put the silk into
the dyebath, it almost instantly turned a rich, plummy-red color, and I removed it after only about 15-20
minutes because I was afraid that it would end up being too purple. Finally, I rinsed the fabric out
really well and hung it on a clothesline to dry. And to my infinite shock and delight, I soon realized
that the dry fabric was almost exactly the color of pink that I had wanted in the first place! Talk about
beginner's luck! ;-)
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| the final color hung out to dry |
Some additional random thoughts:
- It is very east to get uneven color. Athough you can't really
see it in any of the pictures (those vertical stripes in the clothesline pic are from the light shining
through thinner areas in the weave), my fabric has a fair amount of subtle gradations in color throughtout
the surface. This could probably be avoided in the future by working on these three areas:
- Make sure the pot is big enough. Mine wasn't, so the silk tended to get twisted up in areas
which made the color darker in some places than others.
- Stir often. Because I wasn't using high cooking temperatures (140° or less), the color
would infuse more at the bottom of the pan than at the top, so I had to agitate it often to keep from
getting "hot spots" where the fabric sat too long on one place right over the burner at the bottom.
- Keep the actual dye materials in a separate pot. At first, I was putting the bag of dyestuff
in with the fabric, but I later noticed that I was getting darker patches where the silk was resting
against the bag. For me, it worked better to brew the dye materials in a small amount of water and
then just add this concentrated liquid to the larger vat containing the material.
- Don't forget that dyes can be reused. Since the silk was in the cochineal bath for a very short
amount of time, I ended up dyeing some linen as well before pouring it out, which made a ridiculously
bright shade of lavendar! I also took the bugs out of the simmering water before I ever got around
to squishing them, so they still have plenty of dye remaining, and they were easily dried out again for
long-term storage.
- The pH of the water plays a very important role in what color you end up with. Madder and cochineal
are both supposed to be red dyes (and apparently make beautiful reds for other people), but with my
water, they made true orange and true purple. For the least amount of color shift, use rainwater or
distilled water, or you can alter the pH by adding things like vinegar or chalk to the bath... but
I haven't quite worked up to that yet!
- The color also varied depending on the type of fibers. Although cochineal produced similar purples
on silk, linen, and wool, there was a huge difference between the colors that madder made depending on
the type of fabric being dyed.
- Keep in mind that the color when wet is very different than the color when dry. If you are unsure
about what the color is really looking like or shooting for a particular shade, snip off a little
corner of the material while it is still in the bath and dry that sample with a hairdryer to check the
final hue.
- If at first you don't succeed, dye, dye again! Colors can be over-dyed several times either with the
same type of natural materials or with something completely different. Just remember to re-mordant each
time, and you can just keep trying until you end up with a spectacular color. Many historical recipes
call for multiple trips through the dyer's vat, so it's historically correct and really fun to experiment
with different combinations.
- Relax and have fun! Basic natural dyeing may not be an exact science, and you have to be bit laid back
about the color you are going to end up with, but this was definitely one of the most fun historical
projects that I have tried so far. I am so excited about seeing the looks on people's faces when I tell them
that I came up with this amazing color for my gown all by myself using roots and bugs! That is just so cool!
A few more scans of the fabric colors
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| madder on silk |
madder on un-mordanted linen |
cochineal on linen |
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| madder over-dyed with cochineal on silk |