Realizing My Love for Kimono

I’m a former designer living in Tokyo.

I quit my job one day after years of burnout, and as I caught my breath, something quietly resurfaced: I really love kimono.

It wasn’t a new discovery — more like remembering a feeling I had long forgotten.

When Kimono Was Rediscovered

In 1980s and ’90s Japan, kimono were often seen as old-fashioned, impractical, and less stylish than Western clothes. Many households gave them away.

I grew up in Nishi-Ogikubo, a Tokyo neighborhood full of antique and vintage stores, where those discarded kimono started to reappear.

By the 2000s, these secondhand kimono were rediscovered by young people as something fresh, stylish, and full of possibility. People began wearing them in new, casual ways: a turtleneck instead of kimono underwear (襦袢 — juban), boots instead of traditional sandals (草履 —zōri).

It was new. It was free. It was cool. I couldn’t look away.

My First Fascination

What first captivated me were the colors and patterns. Flowers, animals, abstract forms — my favorite things, woven right into the fabric.

They were cute, elegant, sometimes minimal. I was enchanted by the design sense.

And when I touched real silk for the first time, I was stunned by its softness. As someone young and broke, it felt like a quiet kind of luxury.

Kimono also has more flat surface area than Western clothing, allowing for bold artwork to be fully expressed. It felt like I was wearing a painting.

Designed to Last: The Logic of Kimono

Now that I’m older, my appreciation has deepened. Kimono is incredibly logical clothing.

You can remove the stitches and return it to one long bolt of fabric.Then, with a traditional cleaning method called araihari, the fabric is washed and stretched on boards or bamboo sticks to dry — allowing for thorough, efficient maintenance.Even the dirt between seams is removed, letting the garment last for decades.

Function Meets Fabric

I was also amazed by how well the fabric itself works for the person wearing it.Take mawata tsumugi（真綿紬）, for example — a type of kimono made from silk floss.

Unlike ordinary silk thread spun from a single filament, mawata is made by stretching cocoons into soft, cotton-like sheets and then drawing fiber from them.This structure allows more air to be trapped inside the threads, creating excellent insulation.

These fibers are often hand-spun, giving the yarn a slightly irregular texture. That texture invites warmth, and with wear, develops a natural fluffiness.Together, these qualities allow the fabric to trap even more warmth and softness as it ages.There are also many other types of fabrics developed for comfort, allowing people to wear kimono with ease in everyday life.

Despite the effort it takes, artisans spare no time or care, crafting each piece to bring out the best experience for the person who wears it.

My Ongoing Journey with Kimono

Because I’ll keep coming back — there’s still so much I don’t know.

Today, most Japanese people don’t know how to wear kimono.Many see it as restrictive, troublesome, or just not practical.

And yet, the shape of kimono hasn’t changed for over 1,500 years.People used to wear them every single day — and lived their lives in them.

I find myself asking:How did they do it?What was the trick to making kimono work for daily life?

Even as a Japanese person, there’s still so much I don’t know about kimono.

Through this blog, I hope to quietly uncover more of its hidden charm, little by little.

And if even a small part of it makes you think, “That’s lovely,” then that alone would make me very happy.