…many of whom I am related to
DogCon 3: Epilogue
For the third year in a row, I attempted suicide by pie at the “Post Con Cool Down Party”. I think I came closer than ever this year. Grace, Sharon & the critters also overdosed on pie and are, even as I type this, fast asleep.
We are 4 hours out of Wilted Springs and headed west. The autopilot, Data, is driving and will stop in Amarillo, where we will sleep until it’s time for breakfast at the Big Texan Steak Ranch. After that, I will drive during the day and Data will take over at night. It won’t quite be non stop, but I still estimate us being home in under 40 hours.
And now, I’m off to bed.
The Dociverse Blog 
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
Re: What’s That Smell?
Oh, you hippie scalawags! It’s cool though, since nearly all of those t-shirts were either black or dark blue.
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike
What’s That Smell?
Part of the fun of tie-dye is you don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until after you’ve finished the dying and you undo the ties. Part of the fun of tie-*bleaching* is you won’t even know what the *base* colour of your cloth will be until after your done. I mean, you start with a solid black T-shirt, thinking you’ll end up with black and white when the bleach has done it’s work, but when you take the rubber bands off you can get white, gray, orange, brown — just about anything — plus the black that didn’t get bleached. And if you start with dark brown or blue, there are even more possibilities.
I don’t know if it’s the water in Wilted Springs, the industrial bleach the hotel buys in bulk, or the imported-from-who-knows-where cloth that the shirts are made of, but when Mary, Miranda and I snuck into Doc’s luggage while he was at a game, made off with a bunch of the souvenir T-shirts he’d bought along the roadtrip, and tie-bleached him some Jones Family Originals in the hotel laundry room (Special thanks to Tomas, the concierge, for letting us use the facilities without even making us sign a liability waiver), we weren’t expecting quite the colours we got. Heck, I can’t even *name* some of the colours we got.
The good news is that Miranda’s becoming a deft hand at tie-dying now; her designs are pretty intricate compared to the two or three simple splashes of colour/bleach she was putting on a few years ago. I mostly finished off the designs, adding a twist here and a double-ring there (Mary calls them amoebas and paramecia) to make sure there aren’t too many wide swathes of unbleached cloth left behind, and watched to make sure that the logos weren’t obscured by the bleaching (since you don’t want to destroy the souvenir value of the shirts), plus the delicate job of the bleaching itself. Mary mainly acted as a lookout and nixed ideas like the nipple-ring motif that was brought up at one point.
And after a quick rinse and dry, I got to apply the finishing touch. On a couple shirts the bleaching results were simple black and white — too plain for Joneses. Not having our regular dyes with us, I used the next best thing: coffee. A pot of extra-dark from Tomas, a lot of soaking so the “stains” would really set in, and now not only are there some black-white-and-brown shirts, but they smell terrific. The smell will fade after a couple washes, and the extra colour sometime after that, but oh well.
Back up to the hotel room, we snuck the shirts back into the luggage, and we Joneses will be safely on our way back home before Doc discovers our “sabotage.”
Spike