着物
The word kimono originally meant ‘the thing you wear’. So, essentially, any type of Japanese garment is kimono. These might include robes, coats, jackets and even trousers. But nowadays, when people use the word kimono, they are usually referring to robes made of silk. There are amazing sites on the internet that cover the history and aesthetics of kimonos.
So, in that sense, this site isn’t really about kimonos. Making a high quality silk kimono is beyond my means and my skills. So far, I have only made garments from cotton, linen or lyocell. I wanted to make things people would wear often and feel comfortable in. Those beautiful silk furisode, Iromuji and Homongi are not only beyond my abilities, but also very hard to clean. But it’s important to remember that, for centuries, kimono were also worn by common folk who couldn’t afford silk. They were often restricted in the colours that could be worn or where decoration could be placed.

What drew me to sewing kimono was the ethics of the garment. Almost every centimetre of the fabric is used. There is virtually no waste. Constructed from only eight rectangles of fabric, almost all the seams are straight; only the collar and, sometimes, the lower hems of the sleeves have curves.

Another aspect that really drew me to kimonos was that it is a garment born to be resewn, resized, repurposed. Because all of the sizing is done with the seams, a single garment can be resewn to fit almost anyone. Many kimono have a hidden half-meter of fabric sewn into the back cross seam to allow for the garment to be adjusted for someone taller or shorter.
The seams are intentionally the weak links in the garment. They are designed to give way before the fabric itself tears. It seems counterintuitive, but the most resilient kimonos are hand sewn with delicate thread, so if the hem catches, it is the seam that rips, not the material.
But when a kimono becomes worn, tears are patched, worn areas are strengthened with a type of embroidery called sashiko, and eventually, the garment is cut down and resewn for a child.
So, for the moment the kimonos I sew are something more like yukatas. Sometimes, I line them which gives them more weight, gravitas and structure and they are more like komon. Most importantly, all the garments I make are made so as to be worn without an obi. They are just too hard to put on and too uncomfortable for most modern people. I want the things I sew to be a part of someone’s everyday wardrobe.
