When I first started exploring natural dyes, I kept hearing about osage wood. I initially assumed that it was something I wouldn’t have had much experience with or access to, but I came to find out that osage was what I had always referred to as a mock orange tree. They were planted above my elementary school playground, so I was very familiar with the strange, brain-like fruits and gnarled branches. These trees (Maclura pomifera) have lots of vernacular names, including hedgeapple and horseapple, and around these parts of Alabama are often referred to as bois d’arc or bodock trees. I was first given access to my osage wood as a dye by Kacie Lynn, the incredible dyer and artist who runs Fiber Farm. It was the first natural dye I used, other than indigo, and it’s one that truly never lets me down. There’s no mordant needed, as the wood makes for a a substantive dye, and with some simple modifiers, a whole spectrum of color can be created. When I started simmering up this wood, I could feel it cooking up much more than just color—it’s amazing how that alchemy and that time spent mindfully tending a fire and a dye pot can really go leaps and bounds for your wellbeing. I’m so fortunate to be able to spend that time in that way.
Tim and I actually went out hunting for Mullein to make some dye with. I’m really trying to lean into foraging this year, and use it to get to know my surroundings and my immediate environment. We ended up finding Mullein, but I’m waiting until it’s a bit more developed to harvest it. On the same property where we found the mullein, there are several old growth osage trees, and one had a downed branch. Tim and I snagged it, loaded it up, and processed it for dyeing by sawing it into disks. I plan on finding someone locally who can help with chipping the wood, but the disks work just fine for now. And what gorgeous wood it was, and that sawdust. It really made for quite a looker of a dyepot. I’m far from an arborist, but most osage wood i’ve seen has had more delineation between the rich, orange heartwood and the more outer wood, but this specific branch seemed extra dense with less separation.
After slicing the wood into disks, I covered them with water and left them to soak for a day or so. I could’ve been more diligent with cleaning the wood, but I like the connection between foraged dyestuff and its immediate environment, and if some of that debris impacts the dyebath, so be it. It’s more interesting to me that way. Plus, it was fun to watch the resurrection ferns come back to life while being soaked.
I let the discs come to a simmer and cool several times over the course of a few days before straining out when I was happy with the color. I’ve already re-used the discs several times and there’s no sign of color depleting. After straining out, I added my fiber and repeated the simmer-cooling motion for several days. All in all, this was about 4 days of dyeing, and i easily could’ve pushed it to a week. Hopefully this gives you some insight into the pricing of naturally dyed work. I’m really, really fortunate to have an outdoor dyeing space with a fire pit, so that I can let this timeline happen very organically, but you could easily recreate it on a stovetop.
After a few days, I was over the moon with the color from this one limb. The osage on linen and cotton is a gorgeous burnt ochre tone, with lots of subtle green twinges and rich brown tones. It’s much, much richer than most yellow/orange dyes I’ve worked with.
By using various pH modifiers, you can increase your range from ochre tones to khakis, sages and grays.
Ever since I saw Maura’s book of natural dye swatches, I’ve wanted to make mine as gorgeous and thorough as hers were. Not only are hers works of art, but they tell a story, like any good record-taking does, and I want mine to function the same way. How exciting to watch this swatch book take shape.
Hopefully we’ll be having some blooms in the garden in the next week or so, and I can share some garden dye projects.
