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Sofer's ink, being the intriguing chemical it is, doesn't come out of clothes.
You can sometimes get it out, if you're quick, with neat bleach - this is my explanation of why traditional scribes wear black-and-white; if it's black the ink won't show, and if it's white you can bleach it - but one of the problems encountered by a Liberal Scribe such as yours truly is that sometimes you're wearing a coloured shirt, and you get ink on it, and you don't notice until it's dry, and you can't dump it in neat bleach because then it will look very silly.
I talked to a chemist specialising in ink, and he didn't have any advice on how to shift stains from this sort of ink. It's basically immovable.
Accordingly, every so often I gather up the clothes with ink-stains (yes I do wear an apron most of the time, thanks) and dye them some dark and thrilling colour, so that the ink-stains won't show. Last time it was wine-red, the time before that it a foresty green.
But - this is the interesting bit - the ink-stains aren't simply disguised, they're actually removed. Whatever chemical magic goes on with the dyeing is of sufficient extraordinariness to shift the chemical magic of the ink. Really makes me wish I knew more chemistry.
Today is a dyeing day, so I've gathered up a few sad splotchy shirts and the greyest, most pathetic knickers in my drawer, and I'm dyeing them a cheerful yellow. That's the idea, anyway. They're on the stovetop at the moment and they're a really alarming Barbie-type orange, but one must have faith in the dye packet.
You can sometimes get it out, if you're quick, with neat bleach - this is my explanation of why traditional scribes wear black-and-white; if it's black the ink won't show, and if it's white you can bleach it - but one of the problems encountered by a Liberal Scribe such as yours truly is that sometimes you're wearing a coloured shirt, and you get ink on it, and you don't notice until it's dry, and you can't dump it in neat bleach because then it will look very silly.
I talked to a chemist specialising in ink, and he didn't have any advice on how to shift stains from this sort of ink. It's basically immovable.
Accordingly, every so often I gather up the clothes with ink-stains (yes I do wear an apron most of the time, thanks) and dye them some dark and thrilling colour, so that the ink-stains won't show. Last time it was wine-red, the time before that it a foresty green.
But - this is the interesting bit - the ink-stains aren't simply disguised, they're actually removed. Whatever chemical magic goes on with the dyeing is of sufficient extraordinariness to shift the chemical magic of the ink. Really makes me wish I knew more chemistry.
Today is a dyeing day, so I've gathered up a few sad splotchy shirts and the greyest, most pathetic knickers in my drawer, and I'm dyeing them a cheerful yellow. That's the idea, anyway. They're on the stovetop at the moment and they're a really alarming Barbie-type orange, but one must have faith in the dye packet.
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