How to keep our sarong vivid for years
A sarong is worn hard: sand, sunscreen, seawater, the occasional damp roll into a beach bag. I built mine for that kind of life, but the print on it, hand-painted by me and then printed onto fabric that travels to Bali for cutting and sewing, deserves a bit of care in return. Here is how to keep one looking the way it did on day one.
Wash cold, and mostly by hand.
Most of our sarongs are made from a silky, lightweight rayon, a fabric that behaves best in cool water and a gentle touch. Hand washing in cold water with a mild detergent is the safest option. If a machine is more realistic for daily life, use a delicate or hand-wash cycle, cold water, and place the sarong inside a mesh laundry bag to reduce friction against other items.
Skip the wringing.
Twisting a wet sarong to remove water is the fastest way to stretch or distort the fabric. Instead, press out excess water gently between two towels, or let it drip dry directly.
Dry flat, out of direct sun.
Direct sunlight fades printed color over time, rayon especially. Dry a sarong flat or over a rounded surface, away from a radiator or direct sun, ideally in the shade with good airflow. This one habit does more for a print's longevity than almost anything else.
Iron on low, if at all.
If a sarong needs a touch-up after folding, use a low setting. But honestly, it will dry beautifully without iron.
Store it folded, not crushed.
Rolling a sarong loosely, the way it often gets packed for travel, is gentler on the fabric than folding it into a tight, permanent crease along the same lines every time. If it lives in a drawer, refold it differently every so often so the fabric does not wear thin along one repeated line. Or use the matching pouch you get when you purchase your sarong and fold it inside.
Read the label first.
Fiber content and finishing can vary slightly between pieces and collections, so the care label sewn into each sarong is the most accurate guide for that specific piece. These are general habits, not a replacement for it.
Treated this way, a sarong tends to outlast a single summer by years, which is really the point. I never meant it to be disposable beachwear. It is meant to move from the sand to the table to the wall and back again, for as long as the fabric holds the story I painted into it.
With love, Brescia
