Why does indigo fade?

Indigo Fading

This might sound a bit technical, but I’d like to explain it from a slightly more specialized perspective.

First and foremost, it’s important to understand that indigo dye does not “penetrate deep into the fabric and set there.”

 

When people think of dyeing, they often imagine the dye penetrating deep into the fibers and setting firmly.

But indigo behaves a little differently.

The fabric in the image is divided into green and indigo sections.

During the dyeing process, the indigo pigment is reduced and dissolved in water.

When the fabric is removed from the dye bath and exposed to air, it oxidizes and turns blue.

At this point, the indigo pigment returns to the surface or outer layers of the fibers in the form of extremely fine particles.

In other words, the blue of indigo dyeing does not sit thickly on the surface like paint, nor is it completely bonded to the interior of the fibers like chemical dyes.

It is easier to understand if you think of it as a color produced by multiple layers stacked near the surface.

 

In technical terms, this is called a “deposited dye.”

 

It’s a bit complicated, but when the dye—which is initially in a water-soluble state (reduced)—comes into contact with air and oxidizes, it transforms into particles.

 

As a result, the surface layer that has gradually adhered to the fabric is dislodged through friction and washing.

This is the true nature of the “fading” seen in indigo dyeing.

 

However, the fading referred to here does not simply mean poor quality.

Rather, it is a natural change inherent to the very structure of the indigo dye itself.

 

Indigo dyeing does not produce a deep color in a single application;

instead, it involves dyeing, allowing the dye to soak in, exposing it to air to oxidize, dyeing again, and oxidizing again—

it is through this painstaking process of repetition that the color becomes deep and rich.

These layers of indigo, built up one upon another, gradually settle, wear down, and blend together with use, transforming the fabric’s appearance.

That is why indigo dyeing is not complete the moment you buy it; it gradually changes and evolves depending on the person wearing or using it.

 

This is also what makes indigo so fascinating.

 

For example, with black T-shirts or fabrics dyed uniformly with chemical dyes, the value often lies in them remaining as unchanged as possible.

These techniques are based on the premise of dyeing large quantities as beautifully and uniformly as possible.

 

But with indigo, it’s the opposite—the very act of changing is what makes it appealing.

The elbows, cuffs, collar, and pocket openings.

The fabric’s character changes starting from the areas touched most often, leaving traces of the wearer’s life on the cloth.

This is similar to why denim is so beloved, but natural indigo exhibits even greater variation.

 

And the indigos known as natural indigo—Japanese indigo, Ryukyu indigo, and Indian indigo—

Since the main component of synthetic indigo is chemically synthesized, the pigment particles are uniform, and color reproducibility is high.

On the other hand, with natural indigo, the finish is uneven due to factors such as trace components, fermentation conditions, the state of the raw materials, and the dyeing method. Even if you dye garments or fabrics of the same design at the same time, the results are prone to variation.

 

So even though it may look like the same “blue,” it’s actually not uniform.

While this unevenness adds depth, it also creates a unique character in the way the color changes over time as you continue to wear it.

 

In other words, the fading of indigo dye

 

is best understood not as a phenomenon where the color washes out and the fabric becomes ruined,

but rather as a phenomenon where the layers of indigo on the surface rearrange themselves over time as the garment is used.

This interpretation is closer to the essence of the process.

 

Of course, there are precautions to take when using it as a practical item.

Immediately after dyeing or while the color is still deep, excess pigment remains on the surface. If rubbed while wet, it can easily transfer to other items—such as white clothing, white bags, or light-colored sofas.

Since this is a characteristic of indigo, you’ll need to take certain precautions at first: wash it separately in a laundry net, avoid vigorous rubbing, and don’t leave it on while you’re sweating.

 

But even with these precautions, I don’t think indigo is a difficult material to handle;

I believe it is a material that embraces change.

 

In an era where uniformity, speed, and permanence are the norm,

indigo stands out as something a little different.

It fades little by little.

It matures little by little.

It gradually becomes a part of the person wearing it.

It’s a common story: while fading in denim is accepted, fading in indigo-dyed items leads to complaints.

It’s fascinating how the perception can shift so drastically just because the item changes, even though the material and dye have the same properties.

I don’t intend to try to capture its essence and get people to accept it based on scientific evidence.

I suspect it’s something that will gradually be accepted through the prevailing trends and atmosphere of the world.

Because as more people gradually come to accept it, indigo-colored items will naturally start appearing around us, and we’ll begin to accept both the color and its character.

I believe the presence of indigo has always had a profound influence on the sensibilities of us Japanese. More broadly speaking, I think humanity is a species that finds this color appealing, and we have a history of being drawn to it.