Merry Christmas, dear readers!

Just a quick post to wish anyone celebrating Christmas today a wonderful holiday. If you’re not celebrating Christmas, I hope you had a wonderful holiday whenever and whatever it was, and that you have a great weekend! That lovely goof in my tree is my beloved Vinnie. He’s the only decoration we need!

I was a lucky duck and got a wonderful lobster tsuke-obi and some beautiful watercolour prints of traditional Kumadori makeup that I will be sharing soon. I actually have several gorgeous Japanese pieces of artwork I’ve received recently that I’ve been meaning to post – perhaps I’ll do an entry about them now that I finally have a bit of time off.

Did you get any wonderful kimono or related items as gifts this year? If so, what did you get! Please share in the comments 🙂

No kitsuke for a little while

Just a quick note, my actual kimono-wearing posts are going to be a tad sparse for the next little while, due to a compressed rib and strict orders not to “do anything physically taxing or binding”. I may have a few old outfits from the archives I haven’t shared yet, but I’m not sure.

Also, posts in general will probably not be as frequent for the month of December, since I work in a toy store and my hours are going to be kind of crazy for the next few weeks. When I’m not at work, I’ll be sleeping or trying to fit in some Christmas shopping.

I’ll still be doing the occasional catalogue post and I have a few tea-related posts queued up, so I won’t be totally gone, but things will be a bit quieter around here until the new year.

Aikoku Fujinkai Obidome featured on ButtonCountry

Recently a lovely gentleman by the name of Paul Rice contacted me, asking if he could feature my Aikoku Fujinkai obidome on ButtonCountry’s online workshop and reference entry on obi-dome.

The page has plenty of beautiful examples of obi-dome, and I am flattered that part of my collection was deemed interesting enough not only to be included and used as an example, but also to be featured on its own separate page.

Traveling down the Tokaido Road

This is an entry that’s been a long time in coming. It may get a bit verbose, and I apologize. If you’re not interested in personal ramblings and art-related discussion, feel free to skip it.

My interest in kimono stemmed from an interest in traditional Japanese aesthetic in general, which I believe I inherited from my grandmother. I have always been fond of traditional woodblock prints; landscapes in particular.

The Tokaido Road is a highway connecting the New Capital, Edo (tokyo), with the Old Capital, Kyoto. There are 53 famous way-stations along this road, plus the start and end points. Edo-era artist Hiroshige Ando became so enamored of the views of these stations that he produced several series of prints, known as the “Stations of the Tokaido“. There are four editions of these, each from slightly different vantage points and during different times of year. The most famous, however, is the Hoeido Edition, and is the one I will most often be referencing here.

About a year ago, I found an obi on Ichiroya of a snow-covered cabin in the mountains. As soon as I saw it, I felt an immense pull and a desperate desire to have it. As I’ve mentioned before, my best friend lives in Colorado, and I often go visit him (sometimes buying kimono while I’m there), and I initially chalked the nostalgia the obi made me feel to my love of the mountains there. Naomi‘s darling husband Arian took pity on me and my obsessive infatuation, and bought me the obi as a gift.

The more I thought about it though, the more visually and emotionally familiar it felt. It took me a while, and a great bit of help from Erica, it finally hit me. It was a creative interpretation of Station 15, Kambara, with the people removed.

This discovery, unfortunately, created a torrent I’ve since been unable to stop. I dove headfirst into more detailed research of the Stations of the Tokaido, mostly on the internet, but in my own bookshelves as well. I’d actually purchased books about Hiroshige years before, and one that’s always come in handy is Hiroshige In Tokyo, by Julian Bicknell. Armed with a new wealth of information and a new obsesson, I dove in. I made the unfortunate discovery that these prints are a fairly popular motif for kimono and related items – obi in particular. With that knowledge in hand, I have begun to amass a “collection within a collection,” if you will.

Since that first obi, I have acquired several more, and a decorative dance fan. My ambition is to eventually have items with all the stations on them, but that is a long-term goal for when I have much more expendable income!

I am not sure, but I believe this is an interpretation of Station 14, Yoshiwara. As always, if you have further information or can read the text on it, by all means let me know.

This one is also very special to me – I have mentioned before my love of hakata, so when I found an obi that was both hakata weave and several stations, I knew I had to have it. I saved up, and the day I was ready to purchase it, someone I know online bought it for herself. I’m not going to lie, I was devastated. Through her own kindness, and the helpfulness of Yuka at Ichiroya, the obi found its way to me. I love it to bits. It contains stations Kuwana, Mariko, and Hakone.

The last obi is another one of Hakone. I already had the hakata one at this point, but I loved the soft pastel colours on this one and it was a bargain, so I couldn’t pass it up.

The last item I currently own is not an obi, but rather a nice, solid dance fan. It has the starting point (or station 0 if you will), Nihonbashi Bridge.

I am, in fact, so obsessed with this that I am currently coveting a particular nail polish – NARS Tokaido Express. Those of you who know me well are aware that I also have a passion for doing my nails and ferreting away a huge collection of nail polishes (I have over 200 at this point). When I found this polish, I knew I had to have it! The fact that it’s a gorgeous rich espresso brown with purple and gold shimmer doesn’t help! Unfortunately, it’s an expensive designer brand and actually more expensive than several of my cheaper kimono! I will have it eventually though! Probably much sooner than the kimono-related goal.

If you would like to learn more about Hiroshige or purchase prints of his work, please check out the Utagawa Hiroshige page on Artsy.

Katsura Rikyu: Imperial Villa of the Moon

Katsura 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