Shibori is the traditional Japanese practice of dyeing fabric using knots, thread wraps, and elaborate tying techniques; typically using dark colors like indigo blue or black or blue-black. It’s like the OG tie-dye but with less colors and more geometric patterns. It’s nifty keen, I think.
Two years ago I saw an indigo shibori bedspread and I wanted it so bad. So bad. It was like $1,700 which is like $1,698.34 more than I would ever pay for something that didn’t come with an engine. (Or a litter box). So, as my shibori dreams were put on hold, I would stay up late at night watching youtube documentaries on the subject, eagerly staring at old Japanese women tying knots into fabric with their feet (yes – it’s pretty rad). I thought to myself, I can do that. I can totally shibori. I can dye things blue and make them come out pretty too – can’t I? Can’t I!?!
But I didn’t. I didn’t DIY an attempt at shibori because every month or two some new shibori bedspread or scarf or whatsit would pop up on the internet. Some expensive, some real expensive, some were probably reasonable but just seamed expensive to me. I thought I’d wait for a sale or something and pounce when the time was right.
Well, the sale happened. And I missed it.
So when I was at Ikea last Saturday I went and bought a plain white duvet for $24.95 and went home to make my own.
I used zip ties yanked off tight with pliers and three times the amount of dye recommended. I waited and waited and waited. Then I threw it in the washing machine to final rinse and when it came out do you know what I found?
I found Nemo. That little sh*t.
I found Nemo swimming around in this big blue under the sea poop blue bedspread that looks like this. THIS. I think I found Ariel, The Little Mermaid, too. And maybe Sebastian the crab. You know who I did not find? Those stupid Japanese ladies in the Shibori documentary. I think they are hiding from me, probably behind a blob of sea weed laughing their little delicate Japanese heads off. Bitches.
What is especially disturbing to me about this is that the last time I tried a variation on tie-dye, I nearly poisoned myself on bleach vapors for the better part of a week. Conclusion about tie-dye: it hates me. As someone who is generally pretty crafty, it is difficult for me to accept that tie-dyeing is something that can be easily be commissioned from a toothless and bearded carny in the parking lot of a Phish concert, but not me. Not even close. No matter how hard I try, I cannot tie-dye. And you know what?
I’m okay with that. I’m okay with that.
Nemo – not so much okay with that. He’s going to Goodwill before his little fish butt starts to stink.
