Indigo-and-white exerts a magnetic pull. Designers are at it nationally; globally, retail players peddle hard-to-resist indigo collections.
An outfit is purchased, worn and there’s no dearth of compliments.
The magic stays until the fabric is put to wash. The colour bleeds, and then bleeds more with every wash. None of those famous DIY tips will help. And some unfortunate times, you don’t have to wait for a wash.
A friend once ended up with blue on her palms hours after wearing an indigo kurta that cost her a few thousands. Another saw, to her horror, a white palazzo take on a blue tinge wherever it was in contact with the indigo kurta. Hilarious horror tales are aplenty.
The bitter truth lies in the retail sector using synthetic, chemical indigo. Those who painstakingly work with natural dyes, like Bina and Keshav Rao of Creative Bee Foundation and Ratna Krishna Kumar of Aranya Naturals, are observing the increasing use of chemical indigo and consumers being taken for a ride.
“Synthetic indigo, from a chemical source, is less expensive compared to the plant-based one,” says Bina. She recalls the time when Kadapa boasted of a large indigo farm. “A foreigner purchased the farm and the farmer has now turned a realtor. We now source indigo from Tamil Nadu,” she says.
A kilogram of plant-based indigo, in cake form, costs up to Rs. 2,000. In vats, the cakes are treated with ash water, lime and other ingredients. The liquor is green. “When a fabric is dipped and taken out, it comes in contact with the air and oxidation turns it blue. Hence people call indigo a magic dye,” says Bina. Indigo-dyed fabrics with shibori patterns from her workshop have takers internationally all the way in Japan and the U.S.
Two years ago, on a textile trail to Kutch, I witnessed the meticulous use of indigo vats by the Vankar family of weavers in Bhujodi. The ‘how to’ of spinning, weaving and dyeing is passed on from one generation to the next. Block printers in Ajrakhpur and Dhamadka, Kutch, follow a slow process of employing natural dyes. They’ve been at it before terms like sustainable and slow fashion ever came into vogue. However, many others turned to screen printing and chemical dyes to roll out new collections in a shorter time.
Labour-intensive process
When we take the topic of indigo with Ratna of Aranya Naturals, she laughs, “You can end up with blotches of indigo on your back, arms, wherever, if it’s a chemical dye.” She’s been working with natural dyes for 22 years. “From cultivating the crop to extracting colour, it’s a long process. The intensity of the colour on the fabric depends on the number of times it is dipped in the dye. To get a deep hue, a fabric may need to be dipped 15 to 20 times,” she says. “The way indigo works fills me with wonder even today. A lot of things are at work. When you receive a stock of indigo cakes, it has to be tested for impurities. Imagine working on a fabric with shibori patterns, using the dye and discovering that the colour is mixed with mud in the final stage.”
Mamata Reddy of Kalam Creations, who uses natural dyes for intricate kalamkari , vouches that natural colours when duly employed, do not bleed. “The fabric undergoes a few washes at different stages of block printing. Any excess colour is washed away. A finished product that uses natural colours should not bleed.”
The growing interest in indigenous hand-woven fabrics and techniques in recent years has brought indigo to the mainstream. Ratna calls it a temperamental colour, “Indigo needs to be treated with respect, both at the time of employing the dye and later, when the garment is worn. Allow it to dry for two days in warm weather conditions and four to five days in cooler climes.”
Can a consumer spot the difference between a fabric that uses natural indigo or a chemical one? “There’s no way of knowing unless the seller spells it out,” says Bina. “Fabrics that use natural indigo, owing to its labour-intensive process, will not come cheap. A metre of block-printed indigo fabric can cost Rs 650. But sadly, I’ve seen that even those who use chemical colours overprice the garment.”
Ratna has the final word: “Fabrics that use natural indigo, in the right technique, do not bleed. Victoria and Albert Museum in London, houses old kalamkari textiles from India that use madder and indigo. The deep colours are good till date.”
Growing interest in indigenous hand-woven fabrics has brought indigo to
the mainstream
