Kimono: An evolving icon of fashion
TOKYO — The kimono is one of the most recognizable forms of national dress, wielding its influence in fashion, art and media. At the Tokyo National Museum, “The Modern Kimono,” featuring the most exquisite pieces from as far back as the Edo Period (17th-19th c.), was easily one of the more popular exhibits. The presence of the kimono in these august halls cannot stress its importance enough in Japan’s history and cultural life. Ever since he studied in Japan, Bench founder Ben Chan has always admired the kimono’s timelessness and how it was revered internationally, inspiring the creation of the highly successful Ternocon which instills pride in our own national dress and makes it relevant for today’s generation. To introduce the terno to the world, he even brought Ternocon pieces for a runway show at Tokyo Fashion Week.
Just like the terno, the kimono has never stopped evolving through centuries, starting with the Heian period (794-1185). Kimono-like garments were already worn as early as the Kofun period (300-538), introduced by Chinese envoys to the Tang Dynasty court; but when they stopped sending envoys to China, a cultural vacuum occurred, resulting in the flowering of kokufū-bunka or a national culture independent from Chinese fashions.
The halt in importation transformed the kimono with the straight-line method that allowed it to adjust to any body shape and paved the way for luxurious layering that reflected social status. Layering was eventually restricted, however, leading to the kosode—previously considered underwear—being used as outerwear by the Muramachi period (1336-1573). It was also held closed by an obi belt.
With the affluence during the Edo period (1603-1867), layering returned and kimonos became more luxurious as the growing and increasingly powerful merchant classes started to lead in the cultural realm to rival the aristocracy and samurai classes, wearing brightly colored pieces in rinzu damask as opposed to the nerinuki plain weave silk of yore, utilizing hand-painted dyework and other artisanal techniques.
During the opening of Japan to Western trade during the Meiji period (1868-1912), there was a drive towards wearing Western clothing, but women still wore the kimono for everyday wear until World War II. After the war, it was used more for ceremonial occasions and became a codified symbol of being Japanese in a globalized world. By the 1970s, most kimonos produced were formal ones. Kimono retailers developed a monopoly on prices and perception of kimono knowledge governed by elaborate rules from fabrics and colors to patterns and structure, taking up to 55 steps consisting of 18 pieces of apparel to correctly wear one.
Today, the majority wear Western clothing as everyday attire except for formal occasions, weddings and funerals or special events. We were lucky to catch a Chrysanthemum Festival celebrating the national flower at the Takahata Fudoson Kongoji Temple in Hino where parents brought their children dressed in the most beautiful kimonos. Some of the mothers wore theirs with such grace that you realize why the Japanese national dress was such an inspiration for Western designers like Cristobal Balenciaga who had knowledge of the progression of Japonism during his stay in San Sebastian and would apply it in his tailoring where he experimented with kimono sleeves for the first time in 1939 and with the kabuki coat in the 1960s. Nicholas Ghesquiere’s takeover at the house revived the kimono sleeves with updated proportions done in lace for spring/summer 2006. Demna’s recent couture show for the house featured his take with piled-on sweaters constituting a kimono with obi, asking the questions, “What is luxury? What is fashion and why does it even matter?”
The kimono no doubt inspires a form of subversion, the way the enfant terribles Alexander McQueen and John Galliano employed it as a garment that could liberate them from the Western tradition of draping on the body, allowing more experimentation and new forms to emerge. Our own Josie Natori has capitalized on it to give women a new freedom of movement and a sophistication that takes it from the boudoir to the cocktail party.
Even rock stars were bitten by Japanophilia. David Bowie collaborated with designer Kansai Yamamoto to create his alter ego, Ziggy Stardust. Freddie Mercury wore vintage women’s kimonos as he constantly challenged binary gender norms. Madonna rocked Jean Paul Gaultier’s red kimonos for her music video and the Grammys.
For Japanese designers, many of whom studied in Paris and London in the ’90s onwards, embracing the kimono was a bit more complex. Rei Kawakubo, for example, was often known to reject it, insisting on doing her own thing at Comme des Garçons, although a piece from AW 1991 features gold and black brushwork the way they did during Edo times. Issey Miyake obliquely referred to it but in his trademark sculptural style.
With Japanese designers today, taking on the kimono is a new form of rebellion, moving away from fast fashion by turning to craftsmanship and providing work for traditional Japanese artisans. After the pandemic, the easy shape of the kimono and its emphasis on comfort make it the ideal garment.
After wearing and designing Western clothing for a long time, rediscovering one’s heritage also becomes a natural predilection and a form of individuality. Takayuki Yajima of Y&Sons observes that as society becomes more homogenous and flat due to technology, young Japanese are beginning to think what “Japan-ness” is—and its originality. He also welcomes the West being inspired by the kimono because “culture changes with each generation, which creates new culture. It is necessary to embed new interpretations from abroad into kimono—without worrying about what you should not change and what you can change.”
