The bride is not me! Let me get that out of the way! But if you follow me on Instagram you’ll have seen this uchikake already. If you’re not following me on Instagram, now’s a great time to start.
I found this beautiful vintage uchikake on a local classified listings site, and contacted the seller right away. We managed to arrange a meeting, and I’m very glad. The gentleman selling it was lovely, very friendly. The uchikake was passed down in his family, originally belonging to his step-mother’s mother, and he seemed very keen to make sure it would go to someone who would really appreciate it for what it is. I hope I’m giving it a good home!
It’s a bit hard to age, but based on how it looks and feels in person combined with what he told me of its history, I’d put it somewhere in early Showa. The metallic bits are synthetic, but the lining and base fabric look and behave like silk. It’s a really interesting combination.
I knew I wanted to do a bridal-style kitsuke with it, and my Taisho-era kakeshita seemed like a good place to start. Even if they’re not the same era, they really work together. Unfortunately, I don’t have a proper set of bridal kitsuke accessories yet, so I had to make do using a normal furisode obiage and obijime, and a shigoki obi beneath the obi, along with a normal kimono wallet in lieu of the traditional decorative wallet known as hakoseko. Overall, though, I think it looks beautiful. Obviously, this is not something I’m ever going to wear personally (except for a lecture or display at some point, I suppose), but it’s so beautiful I have a feeling I’m going to be leaving it on the mannequin for longer than usual.
Geiko & Maiko of Kyoto
by Robert van Koesveld
For this volume, van Koesveld was awarded the Photography Book of the Year (2015) by the Australian Institute of Professional Photographers, and it’s easy to see why. While the text is certainly interesting and well-written, the photographs are the heart and soul of this book. They are beautiful, and there are many of them. The book is full of gorgeous, crisp full-colour plates of geiko, maiko, live performances, as well as garments and accessories, and the skilled people who make them. It’s a fantastic glimpse into a world most of us will never get to see.
The book features interviews with maiko and geiko who live and work in Kyoto, as well as interviews and information about the artisans and craftspeople who support the community. It offers an unprecedented look into the Flower and Willow World, the mysterious and ethereal environment where these women live and work that most of us will never be able to experience. It is filled with information that anyone interested in modern geisha traditions and culture would love to have in their collection.
(The tinting and distortion in these sample pages is a result of my scanning process; the photos in the book are absolutely beautiful and these pictures do them no justice)
I would recommend this book for:
-People interested in the tradition and culture of geiko and maiko
-People looking for information about the artisans and tradespersons who support this culture
-Anyone who appreciates beautiful photography
I received this item as a backer perk for a project or product that was crowd-funded (Kickstarter, IndieGoGo, etc)
I would not recommend this book for:
-People who have incorrect assumptions about geiko and no interest in learning
-People looking for instructions on how to dress maiko or geiko-style
You know how I’m always joking about how I love every outfit I coordinate on the mannequin? Well, today I learnt that nobody can hit a home run every time!
I’ve been wanting to do an all-pink coordination on a Wednesday in honour of the iconic Mean Girls quote for a long time. It seemed like a good opportunity to use this gorgeous pink hakata obi I got in the huge obi bundle, and I tried to build the outfit around it using other pink items in my collection. While I don’t hate it, I’m not crazy about it either. Sometimes a theme or idea just isn’t a winner. I love all of these pieces independently, but together they feel like something is lacking. It even feels like the kimono isn’t hanging quite right on the mannequin. However, it’s been alarmingly hot here (over 40C/105F) for several days now, and I knew there was no way I’d have the energy to re-dress her. So I figured I would give you guys a small glimpse into what happens on the rare occasion that I’m not thrilled with how something turned out!
Hopefully once it cools down I’ll have more energy to do something a little more inspired :) If not, I have a few book reviews to get done.
One thing you may not know about me is that I am completely fascinated with dollhouse miniatures. I find something incredibly awe-inspiring about tiny, realistic objects. My father and I built a dollhouse for some of my figurines and decorating it with miniature food and accessories was my favourite parts. Sometimes when I’m bored, I’ll just browse through online retailers and on eBay, admiring the painstaking detail put into these things.
I’m honestly not sure what put the bee into my bonnet in the first place, but I recently decided I wanted to make a traditional miniature washitsu (Japanese room) diorama, and I wanted to make as much of it from scratch as I possibly could, using found objects or bits and bobs from the dollar store. The room started out as a cardboard mailing box. I covered it with brown craft paper. The roof is more cardboard, covered with pieces of a bamboo beach mat. The tatami mats inside were made out of more beach mat, adhered to foam-core and decorated with washi tape. The wood flooring is popsicle sticks, and the screens are sheer mylar with more popsicle sticks and match sticks. They slide open and closed, too, which I am very proud of! I made the zabuton out of leftover indigo fabric from my recent sashiko project. The table is a coaster and a napkin ring, and the console is the holder for the coasters.
Most of the food and accessories are Re-Ment miniatures I already owned. The tiny bonsai I made myself, using a beads, and a bottle cap and some washi tape for the containter. The kakemono was printed and adhered to origami paper and toothpicks. The only items I purchased were the tiny geta, the vase (the pussywillows in the vase were made with wire and pearl flower pips), and the adorable little bowl of goldfish. The lighting was a happy accident; I made the two small fixtures and went looking for a small set of LEDs to light them, and found some at the dollar store that came with the adorable red lantern! I had to incorporate it!
It may not be perfect, but overall I’m so happy with how this turned out, and I suspect I will be making more dioramas like this in the future. I’d love to do a dressing room with a tiny tansu at some point!
Today is Canada Day! It is the anniversary of the first unifications of British colonies into the country we now call home. Since then, though, it has become much more. To me, it’s a celebration of all things Canadian, of our heritage, our cultures, the beautiful tapestry that makes us who we are, our country as a whole.
I knew I wanted to do a Canadian-themed kitsuke, but at first I wasn’t sure where to start. All I knew is that it had to include red, white, and maple leaves! My kiku houmongi, with its gorgeous red background and bold white flowers, seemed like a logical jumping-off point. I pulled out a vintage obi with maple leaves and a maple haneri. The obidome is a poppy, hand-beaded by a friend of a friend in a nearby Mohawk community. To me, it represents remembrance and appreciation of the First Nations people who were here first.
I wasn’t sure how this would look all together, I was worried the orange of the obi would clash with the kimono, but I was really happy seeing it all come together. I even like how the orange of the obi picks up on the salmon lining of the kimono, and the purple in the obi is echoed subtly in the haneri. The outfit is entirely inappropriate, seasonally, but thematically I think I’m spot-on.