N is for Ningyo

Ningyo (also ningyou), 人形, dolls

I had to feature this obi today, didn’t I? I love it so much! I wanted to pair it with a kimono that didn’t compete with it but also didn’t get lost in the background, and I think this was the perfect choice.

The red of the obi is repeated in the gorgeous red of the poppies on the kimono, and while it might not be super obvious, a lot of the colours in the doll herself are echoed in other parts of the outfit. The olive accent shows up in the haneri, the obiage, and the hem of the kimono. The lilac of the obijime isn’t an exact match for the grey background of the kimono but I feel like the soft, desaturated colours complement each other very well.

Items used in this coordination

M is for Maneki Neko

Maneki Neko, 招き猫, Beckoning Cat (Lucky Cat)

Sometimes, spontaneous things work out better than the things you’ve planned out. My initial goal for today’s entry was to do an ikebana involving matsu (pine), but the weather’s been pretty miserable and I’m not feeling great (nothing worrisome, just that time of the month) so I didn’t much feel like tromping around in the yard looking for the perfect branch to work with. Thankfully, this utterly adorable Lego Maneki Neko kit arrived yesterday, and saved me from failure! I realised it was the perfect inspiration point for a fun little knowledge post.

Maneki neko is one of Japan’s most enduring cute little traditions. They’re immediately recognisable and found all over the world. Traditionally made of ceramic or carved wood, they can now be found made of plastic, metal, eraser, food, vinyl, and yes, even Lego!

The name maneki neko means “beckoning cat.” What it’s supposed to bring to you depends on which paw is up and beckoning, and occasionally the colour of the cat itself or the character on its bib. Typically the left paw up is said to be for bringing in customers, and the right paw up is for bringing in wealth. It’s common to see the left-paw style in restaurants and businesses. While they were all originally white or calico-patterned, much like the daruma they now also come in different colours to represent different aspirations such as red for health, pink for love, or gold for wealth.

One day I would like to get a tattoo of a maneki neko to bring me health and luck wherever I go! Until then I will have to satisfy myself with figurines and statuettes.

L is for Layers

Layers, one thickness, course, or fold laid or lying over or under another

Today was a finicky one, since there is no L letter or phoneme in Japanese – loanwords from other languages such as English will typically use ru- or ra- syllables instead. So obviously I couldn’t use a traditional motif or technique for this entry. Instead, I decided to run with a relatively mundane English word. Layers. Lots of lovely layers!

The concept of layering one kimono over another is definitely nothing new. Think back to my entry about junihitoe from a few days ago! As recently as the Taisho era, it was common for formal kimono to come as a kasane set, including two or three layers of matching kimono in coordinating colours. Even after these were deemed too heavy and impractical, it was trendy to use a dounuki, which was somewhere between a kimono and a juban, to give the illusion of multiple layers.

I bought this kimono way back in the early autumn, before the whole flood nonsense, but I’d just never had the occasion to do anything with it until now. But I knew it would be gorgeous with a peek of bright golden yellow peeking out at the collar, sleeves, and hem, so out it came.

My vivid yellow rose houmongi made the perfect layer underneath, along with a green and gold date-eri to give the impression of even more layers! I used my beloved green and gold hakata obi to pull out more of the green and gold, and draw more attention to the gorgeous stained-glass designs on the kimono. Of course, my beloved lemon-yellow accessories worked perfectly here. But honestly, when don’t they work?

I love this whole coordination more than I can express. I knew in my mind it would work well, but seeing it in person it’s even better than I imagined. It’s always a great day when that happens!

Items used in this coordination

K is for Kintsugi

Kintsugi, 金継ぎ, golden joinery

If you’ve ever seen a beautiful piece of Japanese pottery or ceramic shot through with a line of warm gold filling a crack, you’ve seen kintsugi. It’s the art of using lacquer and gold dust to repair an item, giving it a new life and a new purpose. Kintsugi exemplifies the Japanese qualities of mottainai (regret over waste) and wabi-sabi (the acceptance of impermanence and imperfection). Rather than throw out and waste a broken item, it is a way to give it new life, and create something unique.

You can buy kits to do your own real kintsugi repair, but they are expensive and hard to find. If you’d like to do an inspired DIY version using things you may already have at home or that can easily be bought online from places like Amazon, keep reading! You can follow this tutorial to repair an already-broken item or use it to create a new, unique item like a coaster or trivet. Instructions for both are below.

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J is for Junithitoe

Junihitoe (also juunihitoe), 十二単, “twelve layers”, traditional layered robes

When you think of “historical” Japanese clothing, what comes to mind? Odds are, at least one thing is the gorgeous, elaborate, cumbersome junihitoe worn by high-ranking women of the Heian era court. Like many things that we now consider intrinsically Japanese, the junihitoe was inspired by contemporary Chinese fashion. The elegant drape and sumptuous layers evoked the sophisticated hanfu, with a distinctly Japanese flair.

The name junihitoe literally means “twelve layers”, but is a bit of a misnomer. It included the kimono-like layers but also under-layers and over-layers. They were known to have anywhere from four to twenty layers (can you imagine the bulk?!) but were eventually fixed at a specific arrangement. The entire structure was composed of the following:

  • Kosode - Narrow sleeved under-robe
  • Nagabakama - Long, formal hakama
  • Hitoe - Single unlined silk layer
  • Itsutsuginu - Five or six colour-coordinated layers forming the bulk of the ensemble
  • Uchiginu - Stiff silk robe to provide shape and support
  • Uwagi - Smaller, narrower decorative silk layer often denoting rank
  • Kawaginu - Short jacket-type layer
  • Mo - Decorative apron-like skirt worn trailing in the back

The colours of the itsutsuginu have specific meanings and representations. The combinations would change depending on the season or specific celebratory event. For a very thorough and easy-to-read list of these combinations, please check out this Guide to Kasane no Irome on Sengoku Daimyo.

Since women of the court often devoted themselves to intellectual and aesthetic pursuits such as writing, painting, and poetry, the weight and bulk of the junihitoe was not a significant impediment to daily life. They had attendants to assist them with nearly everything from the dressing process to fetching food and items.

However, they’re obviously utterly impractical for the modern woman. Nowadays, there are very few places you’ll see someone in one of these ensembles. Typically, when a new emperor is enthroned in Japan, both he and his wife will wear traditional court robes; for the empress this means junihitoe.

Aside from traditional ceremonies such as these, people can choose to be professionally dressed in junihitoe at henshin (dressing) studios and then pose for photographs. There are also wedding uchikake made to recall their multi-layered feel, such as those made by designers Mai-Curren, but the layers in these are faked, using extra fabric around the collar, sleeves, and hem as well as a trailing hem reminiscent of the mo (apron). They have a very distinctive look to them.

If you had the opportunity, would you choose to try a junithitoe on? It seems very overwhelming, but I would still love to wear such an ensemble, if only for photographs.