For centuries, natural dyes have been woven into the fabric of our history, carrying with them the essence of the landscapes from which they were taken. Long before synthetic pigments, people gathered roots, bark, berries, and lichen, coaxing colour from the land itself. These dyes were more than just practical, they held meaning, woven with folklore and ritual. Oak bark, steeped in water, yielded deep, earthy browns and was often associated with strength and endurance. Madder root, turning fabric to rich reds, was linked to vitality and protection. Woad, the famed blue of ancient warriors, carried whispers of magic and defiance. Every colour had a story, a connection to the land, and a presence that extended beyond mere pigment.

This is why foraging for dyes remains my favorite part of the process. There’s something about gathering materials from hedgerows, forests, and riverbanks that feels deeply connected to the past. The colors that emerge are alive in a way chemical dyes never could be, subtle shifting with the light, and imbued with the place they came from. No two batches are ever quite the same, as if the spirit of the land is held within them. The process is slow, meditative, and uncertain, but that is its beauty. It is a reminder that nature is not uniform, nor should it be. When you dye with plants, you are collaborating with the earth itself, and in doing so, carrying forward a tradition as old as time.