The Creative Spirit Of Rebellion
Over the past few blogs we have been looking at the cost of fast fashion and how wool can be an answer to not only halting the use of plastics in our clothing, but also how it can help bring clothes made in the UK back into the shops. Today, I want to bring us back to the land, my land, where the space on this earth where my sheep graze can be found and the creative spirit of rebellion can be felt.
Change can be one of the most important moments in life. Sometimes it comes in the form of hurricanes that leave us feeling as broken as tree branches, but, at other times, change can energize us with fresh air by taking us to new spaces.
A sweet breeze came through the mountain valley where I live in Wales earlier this year which brought the creative energy I was seeking, and with it came the perfect opportunity for me to revitalize my dye shed. When combined with a lot of planning and prep, some magic happened.
My dye shed has always been a space where I could retreat, ground myself, and feel at peace. I loved warming the yarns in the plants that I harvested in my garden and the surrounding areas where I walk each day, but my elbows would be close to knocking off garden pots, and the trowels were always there to remind me that I had weeding to do. Working from home was starting to look a little dusty, and I wanted a place where I could make my dyes up in a well ordered, welcoming place that reflected in the final product; the yarns that we all love to enjoy on our needles.
In a world that is outpacing itself with AI designed fashion, clothes that are mass produced out of fossil fuels, and the endless stream of images that are shared through social media, the idea of investing in a place where life is slowed down does sometimes feel slightly crazy. But when I saw the deep butler's sink get plumbed into the shed, and the shelves that the carpenter made go up on the walls there was a knowledge in my soul that told me that this was the right thing to do. To create a place that is sustainable in both its size and its ability to produce ‘enough’ is both counter cultural and deeply personal.
For me, it is not enough to talk (or write) about the change that needs to happen for us to come back to a sustained point of being, I have to act on it. The enjoyment of redesigning the dye shed this year has allowed me to grow into the space where I can both work and honour the materials that I work with. Plants need space to dry and to be stored in ways that keep them at their best so that the pigments are rich and true when they are heated in the pots. Yarns need to be stored in ways that keep them at their best, and I need space to move around easily and have room to think and breathe. Along with the drying racks for both the plants and the wool, I am delighted to now be able to organise my work in a sustainable way not just for myself, but for the yarns that we create with.
Pressed Flowers - Natural Bundle Dyeing with Steam Baths
Pressing flowers in a book takes me back to being a child when I would press daisies in a large encyclopedia at home. I would re-discover them months later, and the memories of spring and summer would come flooding back to me as I opened the pages and they would flutter out.
This summer I decided to press flowers from my dye garden into the wool blend that has become a staple in the Nellie and Eve collection, the Dale 50:50, which is 50% Masham and 50% Blue Faced Lecister. Finding the right plants to bring my idea to life was a delicate balance as I wanted the joyful brightness of pale cream to blend with soft purply blues and pinks.
Bundling the flowers and allowing the pigments to press their colourful energy into the wool in steam baths was a process that left me guessing until the final result was revealed. It was as exciting to unroll the skeins as it had been to open the pages of the encyclopedia, finding delight in the colours and textures that these small plants could produce.
Spring Tide - Indigo and Alder Cones
I love alder cones. My dye shed is very rarely without them, and they are the natural product I reach for time and again to achieve the looks I want for my yarn. The light yellow that they produced for me as a base for this colourway was perfect for the pops of indigo that remind me of the high spring tides that bring such energy!
With the high highs and the low lows of spring tides, we get to see many variants of greens and blues each time they roll in. I was so happy to see that these colours were created through the pairing of Alder and Indigo, and my pots were busy as they warmed the materials that brought my vision to life, which was a celebration of the seas that surround us.
The new dye shed offered me space to play with these ideas without feeling cramped. As sure as the sea breezes come along to refresh me when I stand on the harbour walls, the space revitalized my creative flow with these yarns in away that was joyful and fulfilling in a space that embraced it all.
Mountain Sky - Hand Painting
Hand painting is labour intensive - it takes time and dedication for the process to look even and not jumbled, which is never what you want for the final knitted project. The sky above the mountains at home in Wales has been clear and bright this summer, which is what I wanted to encapsulate with my yarn painting for this colour way. It is bright and airy, and with the perfect drape that the wool offers, is perfect for spring weight projects and shawls.
Sitting down with my paint brush and taking the time to paint each skein in my new space gave me a chance to explore indigo in a slow and comfortable manner. As a plant dye, indigo can give us colours of deep royal denims all the way to bright bluebird skies. Painting with indigo on a white wool base gives me the ability to play with its depth and find new ways of bringing it to the knitter who will enjoy using it. Each skein will be different as each time I place my paintbrush on the wool; either my hand is in a new position, or the dye has had more time to mature. All these things determine the end results of hand painting each skein.
Random Joy
The randomness in the results is the art of natural dyeing, and I really like that process. I can’t completely plan it, and there is no algorithm that can recreate it as there are too many natural variants; from the amount of lanolin in the wool, how the wool has been spun (let alone the health of the sheep that year), to the atmosphere in the air and the particular pigments in the plants that I have harvested… each batch is dependent on the earth around us, and not on the increasing reliance of corporate technology or consumerist greed.
To be in my shed, bundling petals and painting with plants is, for me, the most rebellious act of fashion counter culture that I can create, and I want to thank you all for being here with me, supporting my work, and being part of this shed-based movement. As we sit and make our next projects with this wonderful wool, we can smile to ourselves in the knowledge that we are, unashamedly, rebelling with our collective creative spirits.
Until next time, enjoy your creations, and walk gently,
Love, Helen xx
