On Being a Behemoth – Size challenges and how to work with what you’ve got
This article is part of a series on size challenges while collecting and dressing in kimono. Please read Part I
Part II – Tips and Tricks for Dressing
In the first entry of this series, I discussed the importance of buying what fits. However, when it comes to buying vintage, one-of-a-kind textiles, this is obviously not always an option. Sometimes a piece comes along that’s just so stunning that you have to have it, even if it’s not the best fit.
Thankfully, if you can’t make it, you can usually fake it. There are enough tools and tricks out there to help you achieve as smooth and clean a baseline as possible.
Problem 1 – Bosoms a’plenty
This is a problem I suffer from greatly, as do many of my kimono-wearing friends. They’re just not designed for someone with melons like these! The first, and most ideal solution for this is, is a kimono bra. They are available on sites like Rakuten or JShoppers. However, these are again made with smaller Japanese frames in mind, and if you’re as heavily-endowed as I am, it may be a challenge finding one that will fit.
Another solution is sarashi, a cotton binding cloth that is wrapped around the torso. These give a great smooth line from bust to hip while remaining breathable.
One suggestion I have heard of but not tried myself is a
The quickest method, and the one I used to use most often, is the rubber datejime/elastic brace method. This requires a fairly common kitsuke accessory, the rubberized “easy datejime”. I place one of these over my juban with a sports bra underneath. It serves to flatten and hold down my bust.

This solution works well enough, and here are a few outfits for comparison. The plaid ensemble on the left is using this easy method, whereas the flowered ensemble on the right is not – it’s ro, a sheer summer weave, and the fluorescent vivid green of my rubber datejime was way too visible! You can see how much smoother my bust is in the plaid outfit, compared to how it descends and curves over the front of the obi in the flowered one.


The main issue with this method is that the datejime can slip over the course of a long day. I’ve since replaced it with an elasticized velcro abdominal/back support, easily available at any medical supply. I simply wear it above the bust, and it functions almost exactly like sarashi, with the added benefit of extra back support.
Problem 2 – Baby Got Back
Thankfully I don’t have quite as much of a problem with this, but it’s still an issue. The kimono was not designed with hips or a bottom in mind. Once again, your best bet is to find one with a decent hip wrap. If that’s just not feasible, there is an easy and inexpensive way to make sure your kimono doesn’t flap wide open in the front, exposing you in a dramatic and embarrassing way. Simply take a kohrin(kohlin) belt and clip it to the outer flap of your nagajuban, wrap it around your knees, and clip it to the inner okumi panel of the kimono.
SnowFox has made a handy diagram to explain what I mean in a great visual manner.

If you don’t have a kohlin belt, a single suspender from the closet or the thrift store works just as well. Just be sure it’s got plastic grips on the teeth – metal ones might pull or tear vintage silk!
Problem 3 – Big Waist, Little Obi
Vintage obi. They’re beautiful, but they’re also almost always too short and too floppy to work with conveniently. Thankfully this is a problem that plagues the Japanese too, as pretty much everyone was smaller around the waist back then. There’s also the matter of kimono going out of fashion due to the difficulty of putting one on, which led to the development of plenty of tools to help dress.
One great such tool is the obidomekanagu, or obi clip. If you have an obi that’s too short to tie comfortably in a knot before tying your musubi, these are a tiny little pink godsend. Rather than tie the two ends together, you simply clip them together with this tool, nestled snugly in the small of your back, and tuck your obi-makura into the curve at the top. It holds everything into place, and gives you ten to fifteen centimetres of leeway.
Hopefully at least one tip here will help you be a little more comfortable and confident in your kimono! Please let me know what you’d like to see in the next entry of this series, or if you have any tips of your own.
Gothic Landscape Houmongi
Every so often, you come across a piece that you know you’re just meant to have. Sometimes it’s immediate, and you splurge and buy it. Sometimes you’re not that lucky, and you miss the opportunity. Take solace in the knowledge that eventually, it will find its way back to you.
This curious piece came up for sale, and at the time I didn’t have the money for it. It was purchased by a member of the Immortal Geisha forums, and I happily admired it from a distance, when she posted photos of herself wearing it. Time passed, and she got engaged, and sadly had to sell parts of her collection to fund the wedding. This time, I was ready. I swooped in like a bat in the night (can you tell the mood of the kimono is rubbing off on me? Either that, or the fact that I am currently watching Batman: The Brave and the Bold while writing this) and snapped it up when she put it up for sale.
Damn, was it ever worth the wait. I am fascinated by this kimono. It’s got swirly wrought iron gas lamps, Victorian-style buildings, and what appear to be a series of small grave markers. It reminds me of London in the late nineteenth century.
I wonder if the artist who designed and painted this piece had the same scenes in mind – and if so, what possessed them to make such an odd and unexpected kimono? If not, what were they trying to evoke with this piece, and what would I see if my Western-minded bias were not getting in the way?
Sadly, I’ve not had the opportunity to wear this yet. The woman I bought it from bundled it with a funky shimmery blue-green obi that has a pattern reminiscent of paving stones, and they coordinate very well, but I can’t help think this kimono would look particularly amazing with my equally weird blackbird obi. Crows flying over London, surveying their territory. Hopefully I’ll be able to get the obi re-lined soon, and be able to put together an outfit that does both pieces justice.
Katsura Rikyu: Imperial Villa of the Moon
Today I was lucky enough to attend the Festival Internationale des Films sur l’Art (International Festival of Films on Art) showing of a lovely little documentary, Katsura Rikyu: Imperial Villa of the Moon.
I went with my mother and our friend Leslie. I’d sort of wanted to wear kimono, but my grandmother is currently in the hospital and we stopped by for a visit before the film, and it’s snowing and muddy out right now, so I settled on haori over western clothing. I paired my black haori with red urushi kiku with a red cowl-neck and some dressy jeans, and felt comfortable and not overdressed. It was nice.
The film itself was visually breathtaking, but sadly light on content. It was a short film about the Katsura Imperial Villa, focusing on the architecture and gardens.
From Wikipedia:
Its gardens are a masterpiece of Japanese gardening, and the buildings are even more important, one of the greatest achievements of Japanese architecture. The palace includes a shoin (“drawing room”), tea houses, and a strolling garden. It provides an invaluable window into the villas of princes of the Edo period.
As they are some of the most stunning and well-preserved examples of traditional Japanese imperial architecture, I was hoping for more substance. There were many lovely detail and overhead shots of the beautifully and accurately restored interior of the main building, outbuildings, and meticulously manicured and landscaped gardens. However, the narrator repeatedly left me hanging. Every time he’d get involved in a subject – be it the history of the Prince Toshihito, the type of rare cypress used as support beams, or the way the walls were painted in a manner to take advantage of shifting moonlight – every time, I’d get engaged and interested, and rather abruptly, the subject would change.
The whole documentary feels almost like a summary of a longer series. I enjoyed it immensely, it was a lovely little gem of Japanese aesthetic, and it was stunning to watch, I just wish it had gone into more depth. I would recommend it to anyone interested in traditional architecture and gardens, but not as a source of serious or academic information or resources, simply as a lovely and relaxing bit of eye and brain candy.
*image courtesy of Wikipedia







