What’s That Thing? Part 4

On The Sixth Day of Fun, I present... an interesting question sent in by a reader! When I say that I take your questions to heart I really mean it as they’re what keep this entire thing going. Please, don’t be afraid to ask questions as it’s how we all learn ^^! Anonymous asked: “Hi! I was wondering, would you mind explaining what tsujigahana is? I've tried to Google it but I still don't quite understand how it differs from other dyeing techniques or how to recognize it on a kimono. Thanks and I hope you have a great new year!“ Tsujigahana (辻が花) is one of my favorite techniques, but I love the design motif too. Confused? Bear with me as we delve into the wonderful world of weaving! So, let’s go back, aaaaaaaall the way back (temporarily) to the Momoyama Period (1573-1615). Why then? Well, it gave birth to this:

Image courtesy of Kogirekai on Instagram.  Sure. it doesn’t look like much, but it’s hiding a beautiful secret: its (now faded) patterns and designs. Obviously fabric doesn’t hold up forever, but that we have any fragments is almost a miracle. This browned fabric was once covered in bright colors, but that’s not all. It also featured very fine shibori (tie dyeing) and even hand painted motifs underneath of all that. However, around the time of the Momoyama Period this group of techniques was lost (war tends to disrupt things), and it would remain that way until the 20th century. What happened then? Well, this guy:

Image courtesy of the Itchiku Kubota Archive. That’s Itchiku Kubota (久保田一竹), a man who was inspired by a fragment of fabric much like the one above. It was so intriguing that he made it his life’s work to revive the lost techniques of tsujigahana that he saw on that fabric. So, what did the revived tsujigahana entail? Well: -Step 1: Drawing The artist takes a brush and paints the desired pattern. The motif of tsujigahana came from the early Kubota designs that featured clusters of flowers with wisteria flowing down from them, hence “Tsujigahana” meaning “Trailing/Flowing Flowers.” To watch a video of this process click here.   -Step 2: Threading The areas that would be dyed were small to say the least, with dyeing being done by threading off very small parts of the base fabric (almost always chirimen) until the parts where dye was not currently meant to be applied would be covered by thread. -Step 3: Shibori Dyeing Then, the garment would be very carefully dyed, usually only a few centimeters at a time to ensure that the chosen colors were correct. Sometimes sections would be dyed again in order to blend their colors, so this process for the same part would have to be repeated.  In the end, you have a one-of-a-kind garment that is incredibly laborious to produce. The average tsujigahana kimono takes months to produce, and it’s not at all uncommon for some to take more than a year or two.

Images courtesy of Maruman Kimono on Instagram. That’s what dyed tsujigahana looks like, but when we talk about tsujigahana as a motif we mean anything that looks like tsujigahana, but didn’t involve this dyeing process, such as this bag:

Image courtesy of Kyorin Kimono on Instagram. Since the embroidery was meant to look like tsujigahana it’s also called tsujigahana since it’s referring to its literal meaning rather than what it’s come to represent ^^ 

Random Fact of The Week 15/9

I’ll be releasing a new feature soon, but first, the facts! While almost all maiko kanzashi are made from silk (with the exception of some motifs) it used to be common to have all motifs made out of paper! Paper folding/crafting motifs used to be held in high esteem and images of these kanzashi can still be found on old postcards, but modern maiko wear silk kanzashi due to the price and a tradition of them being popular among young girls during the Edo Period ^^

@gushersthecat asked if you could iron kimono the other day. Here's a before and after comparison of the same kakeshita, one before ironing and one after. I could have done a bit of a better job on the ironing as there's still a few wrinkles, but all and all it came out nicely ^^v #kimono #ironing #comparison #kakeshita #silk

Random Fact of The Week 9/12

I’ve been on a bit of a visual kick lately, so I figured I’d continue that theme. The combs that senior maiko wear during the summer are known as Itomaki Kushi (糸巻櫛). Itomaki means “Spool of Thread” and the design is made by weaving silver threads in and around the comb like how you would weave silk around a bobbin.  Traditional silk bobbins are square shaped and not the round like the ones we use in the West. The motif of itomaki can be found on both January and minarai kanzashi.

What’s In a Kimono? Part 1

I mentioned starting this topic a while back, and since I’m not currently working on images I figured that this would be a good time to start!

Name: Kikunami (菊波) - Chrysanthemum Waves Type: Houmongi (訪問着) Time Period: Late Taisho/Early Showa (1925-1935) Age: Antique (81-91 Years Old) Condition: Excellent - No Staining or Fading Material: Silk Motif(s): Chrysanthemums and Waves Execution and Technique: Master Painting Skills (Yuzen) Value: $100-200 USD

Since this is the first one I figured that I’d do the one that all readers have seen previously as this is the kimono that I’m wearing in my icon photograph. The layout of information is the same that I’ve used in the book that I’m writing, so it may come to feel normal in time.

Let’s start with the easiest one: material. How do I know that it’s silk? Well, besides that I could do a burn test (take a small thread out and see how it burns), I can see that it has some very slight wrinkles that only high density natural fibers have. Also, due to its quality and age, I know that Japan did not use synthetics for their kimono of higher formality at that time.

Now, let’s look at type. The sleeves are open towards the inside of the garment, so it’s for a female. It has short sleeves, so clearly it’s not a furisode. It doesn’t have small overall patterns, so it’s not a komon. It’s not a solid single color, so it’s not an iromuji. The patterns flow from one panel to the next, so it’s not a tsukesage. There are motifs above the shoulders, so it’s not a tomesode. Besides that there is only one option left, this piece is a houmongi due to its continuous pattern that doesn’t stop between panels. 

Most people will freak out when you can tell the exact age of a garment, but that usually only happens when the person who does the freaking out is not well versed in your area of expertise. So, how can I determine it’s age to within a 10 year span? First off, it has red lining. This is a characteristic of kimono made prior to World War II. After the war white and/or cream became the default lining color.

The next step traces back to its execution and techniques, specifically how it was applied to the fabric and the different stylistic characteristics that define a kimono’s age. By looking at the chrysanthemums and waves we can see that the painting skills look very light and “painterly”, which is usually a characteristic of Taisho Period (1912-1926) kimono. However, the flowers and waves contain a slight outline which became popular right after the Taisho Period. This phase in which kimono designs began to adopt more “western” looks is known as Taisho Roman. During this time the Art Deco phase was underway in the West and Japanese designs shifted from light, almost ethereal subjects to ones that began to show outlines akin to popular movie posters at the time.

Since this piece still has some Taisho characteristics it was likely made at the very end of that period and/or the very start of the next period, the Showa Period. The Showa Period lasted a very long time (1926-1989) and can be broken down into many different phases, the first being the shift from the painterly designs of the Taisho to the slightly more bold motifs from the Western influence. This phase lasted until the end of World War II. Since this piece still has prominent Taisho influence I can deduce that it was made at the very end of the Taisho Period and/or the start of the Showa Period.

When it comes to antiques a garment or fabric is considered antique at 80 years of age and not the usual 100 due to its fragility. Since this piece is approximately 81-91 years old it is, for all intents and purposes, an antique. 

The value itself is based off of current market values for kimono of similar quality and caliber that have actually sold within the last twelve months. Prices are tracked from various online websites and the prices that I give are what you would actually expect to pay online and not some hyper-inflated retail price that many other people try to push. Kimono are not as expensive as most people seem to believe, and I think that seeing the hyper-inflated prices tends to turn people off before they can even get their foot in the door. As this series progresses I will show kimono whose prices will be into the thousands of dollars, but note that they are incredibly rare and that I have been collecting and wearing for well over a decade (the last time I checked it was about 11 years) and, I do admit, I own some very nice pieces. But, the majority of the kimono that I own are more akin in price to this one, with the intent of purchase to actually wear them or just because I really liked the design. 

My newest kimono acquisition (please excuse the cell phone quality). It’s a 200+ year old Edo kosode made during the Bunka Period (1804-1818). The person selling it said that it came from a collector who owned costumes and was involved in theatre. Besides the water stain in the middle it’s in perfect condition. It’s rare to see something this old stored and taken care of so well! It features motifs of camelia, iris, cherry blossoms, waves, and paulownia.