The fastness of natural colors
This is the question most often asked when talking about natural dyes.
It’s the victim of a deep-rooted prejudice among our contemporaries: pale colors, colors that don’t last…
To believe in this prejudice is to ignore the history of natural dyeing.
Botanical colors have endured for centuries
Since time immemorial, man has combined color with nature. He used the plants and natural resources of his environment to extract color and dye textile fibers.
Some of the colors of these textiles have survived the centuries. They bear witness to the ancestral know-how of a natural dye that stands the test of time, as demonstrated by the research work of Dominique Cardon (link in french), director emeritus at the CNRS, in archaeology on ancient textiles.
In the Art Eco Vert podcast (link in french), Dominique Cardon explains how she worked on textiles worn by mummies from the Bronze Age, over 4,000 years ago. She found white wool yarns dyed bright red. After biochemical analysis, this red was that of madder root. This madder red has remained vibrant for over 4,000 years! As Dominique Cardon points out, the same cannot be said of a synthetic color.
So we’ve forgotten that, before the advent of synthetic colors in the mid-19th century, all colors were made from plants or insects.
Dominique Cardon’s extraordinary research work traces the history of this craft, practiced since time immemorial on every continent (Le monde des teintures naturelles, in french).
The dyer’s apprentice sought color in the surrounding flora. From simple grasses to leaves, flowers, bark and roots, they have all been worked by man to extract color.
In the 18th century, in his Recueil de procédés et d’expériences sur les teintures solides que nos végétaux indigènes communiquent aux laines (link in french), Mr. L. A. Dambourney recorded this laborious search for colors derived from local flora: many disappointments and some beautiful discoveries.
Many yellows and beiges, in bland or more vivid shades, are the testimony of a local flora rich in tannins and flavonoids.
Experience has forged the dyer’s apprentice into a practitioner of the art of dyeing. And from this abundance of plant resources for making color, he has, over time, retained only a limited number: those that have revealed the most vivid, beautiful and solid colors. Thus was born the art of natural dyeing.
“Grand teint” and “petit teint” colors
In France, from the mid-18th century onwards, this art form was “codified” under the aegis of Colbert. It has become an academic art in the same way as pharmacy or glassmaking.
To ensure the prestige and renown of France’s booming textile industry, dyers were subject to strict regulations and controls (L’art de la teinture à l’Académie
royale des sciences au XVIIIe siècle, Christine Lehman, in french).
For according to Colbert, ” All visible things are distinguished or made desirable by color; and not only must colors be beautiful to give course to the cloth trade, but they must also be good, so that their duration equals that of the goods to which they are applied. ” (Lettres, instructions et mémoires de Colbert publiés d’après les ordres de l’Empereur, Pierre Clément (ed.), Paris, 1861, in french).
These regulations classified colors by distinguishing between “grand teint” colors, solid colors intended for luxury fabrics, and “petit teint” colors, colors of lesser quality because they were less solid. The criteria for color fastness are resistance to UV (lightfastness), to repeated washing (washfastness) and rubbing (frictionfastness).
At the time, indigo, gaude, madder and cochineal were classified as “grand teint” colors.
A color that last, a relative requirement
What does this distinction mean?
Inherited from a regulated textile industry, the difference between a “grand teint” color and a “petit teint” color is now put into perspective. It all depends on the purpose of botanical dyeing.
Let me explain.
The fastness of natural colors from a marketing point of view
If the dyed textile is to be marketed, it is important to choose a dyeing process that is suited to its intended use.
Resistance to UV rays, repeated washing and rubbing is necessary for textiles subjected to heavy use, such as linen and cotton summer clothing.
The dyeing process must then be tested to withstand prolonged exposure to sunlight and frequent washing.
The choice of plant for a color called “grand teint” will be important. The same applies to the mordanting process.
To this end, the use of tannin-rich plants often enhances UV resistance. Of course, we won’t be using any mordants made from heavy metals, which were widely used in the 18th century: very effective but highly toxic.
The fastness of plant colors from and experimentation and creation point of view
While textiles are subject to less stringent constraints, such as woollens and silks, the choice of plants for color is wider. As animal fibers naturally have a good affinity with botanical dyes, the dyeing process is generally simplified.
And when you dye for home use, for the pleasure of a creative activity with plants, the field of possibilities expands.
We’ll be looking for the thousand and one nuances offered by a plant. Only the vividness and beauty of the color will catch our eye.
If the color fades a little, it doesn’t matter. The textile is then immersed in a second dye bath. The nuance will then be enriched.
The only thing that counts is the pleasure of doing it. Bring color to the fiber, marvel at the magic; the magic of color revealed by plants, in a quest to rediscover our flora, the richness of its biodiversity and its unsuspected “powers”.
It was with this in mind that I wrote the book “Teinture sauvage” (it should be out in english in 2025): to bring natural dyeing within everyone’s reach, and to take a different look at the plants in our daily lives.
Some of these recipes are tried and tested, while others are completely empirical. What they all have in common is that they are entirely plant-based, with the mordanting stage being only plant-based.
I sometimes think it’s a pity to approach natural dyeing only through the prism of colorfastness, a somewhat reductive angle on the practice of natural dyeing.
As proof, one of the world’s most widespread yellow dyes, turmeric, was banned by 18th-century dyers because it is fugitive. Turmeric is nonetheless an important color resource, full of history and symbolism in all South Asian countries. Dipping his robe once again in a turmeric decoction to enhance the color was certainly no problem for the Buddhist monk.
It’s all a question of state of mind: the need to “produce” a color that last or the pleasure of making a beautiful color.
Experience shows the difference.
In conclusion, the answer to the question of whether botanical color resist is :
- Yes, if the choice of plant and mordant are adapted to the intended use of the dyed textile.
We don’t dye table linen with anthocyanin-rich plants like elderberries in the hope of keeping the pretty purplish-pink fresh out of the dye bath. Repeated and rather alkaline washing will turn the color gray.
For heavy-duty table linens, indigo dyes or colors rich in colored tannins, such as cachou, avocado, onion or pomegranate peel, are preferable.
- Yes, if the dyeing process is carried out correctly and the textile is suitable for natural dyeing.
The need for solid color is relative. Indispensable if the color is to be marketed, it can be tolerated if the color is for domestic or personal use.
I dyed vintage clothes and linens for fun. Some of the colors have faded, others a little, giving this old linen an old-fashioned charm that I like.
On my woollens, the colors have retained their liveliness. Until when? For centuries and centuries? I don’t know. The time I have left doesn’t allow me to say.
