A few weeks ago, walking around the Torbay Hall Markets exploring homemade treasures, an eclectic collection of plants and second hand goodies, I stumbled across a very special white linen dress with lace details and embroidered yellow and purple butterflies. I purchased this special piece without trying it on with visions of myself eating homemade pastries with friends under an overgrown plum tree. Once returning home, I discovered that the dress was too big and dreams of picnics ended with me tripping over while carrying an overpacked basket, likely containing oracle cards and leaked elderflower cordial made with the flowers from Kaysanne’s tree.
My dreams began to change and grow as I imagined a new life for this very special piece. I began by altering the dress into a two piece; a skirt and crop top. After wiping the dust off my sewing machine and lots of deep breaths and breaks, the dress was successfully altered, if not slightly wonky.
The next step was another process. With hours spent reading, accompanied by my fears and hesitations of trying, I embarked on a natural dyeing adventure. I was lended some mordant materials and a home printed booklet from a friend in exchange for some everlastings for a festive garland. While reading the booklet, the option of plant based dyes on plant based materials was only recommended to try after the dyer had gained some experience and was confident with the process. This was not only suggested once, but at most times this process was discussed. Ignoring this advice, I began the process. Preparing the fabric for dyeing consisted of hours spent boiling the material in a pot of eucalyptus leaves, an hour spent boiling in a pot of alum, before returning again to a boiling pot of eucalyptus leaves. The material was now ready for the fun part; dyeing.
I had read about so many different dye plants and their different colour options, from vintage herbal op-shop books, to instagram pages focused around natural dyeing. I decided to honour my beloved calendulas growing abundantly in the garden as well as dehydrated for winter cups of tea in my little yellow metal vintage meat safe, turned herbalism storage. The lovingly and carefully hand picked flowers were boiled in water, extracting their magical yellow colour, creating the dye pot. This was it - the moment I had been waiting for. The material entered the dye pot while visions of a flowy yellow linen skirt dyed by my darling calendulas danced in my brain. My heart was racing and a smile spread across my face. I continued the process waiting for the yellow skirt of my dreams. I continued to wait… and wait. The material continued to remain an off white altered by the mordant process but not taking on the yellow. I tried for a bit longer, before deciding that the time wasn’t the issue and something else must have gone wrong…
I took the material out of the pot, wanting to hide it and not acknowledge the unsuccessful dyeing attempt. My heart felt defeated and I was disappointed that, even after going against the advice of the printed out booklet, that it didn’t work out. I had used all my calendulas into this one attempt and all the spare minutes I had in a busy week of life. I had read a lot and spent hours thinking about the process. It still just didn’t work. It took me a minute to realise but it was all okay, perhaps better than okay.
The process was enjoyable and added creativity into my week when it felt I didn’t have the space for it. I got to make a big mess in the kitchen, playing with new ways of using natural materials growing around my home. It allowed me to spend time with my calendula kin and learn more about them and cherish their properties. I got to explore a new craft and engage in conversations with people around this craft and hear their stories and experiences. This is really where the magic of creating lies for me. A beautiful skirt to frolic in would have been lovely, but these learnings and connections were so much more valuable. I learnt so much about the process and the once daunting steps of natural dyeing no longer seems so scary.
I’m now going to attempt another new skill; embroidery, along the bottom of the skirt as another way of celebrating the calendulas who contributed to make the skirt an off white colour. I’m buckling up for lots of learnings along the way and working towards being more patient and gentle with myself in the process this time.
This is what I hope The Village can be for others; a safe space to create and learn new skills, make connections but also make lots of glorious mistakes. Not every creative idea will work out and that’s what makes it all so fun and exciting. There is so much joy and growth that comes with being life long learners. We are never too old to continue to learn and try new things, even if they don't work out.
We look forward to embarking on learning journeys with you and making lots of mistakes along the way!
With gratitude,
A
Comments