Wearing a kimono in Japan

Coming across someone wearing a kimono in Japan isn’t as uncommon as you’d think. When in Japan recently, I saw lots of young women and couples wearing kimonos. While many were international visitors, I also met local students who had hired kimonos for their graduation ceremony. Other Japanese students were enjoying a weekend away after graduating. They hired kimonos and spent the day visiting tourist haunts and eating local delicacies.

Wanting to experience wearing a kimono in Japan

Before arriving in Japan, I discovered that wearing a kimono with the right side crossed over the left just isn’t done. Unless you are a corpse. I also reread Memoirs of a Geisha which detailed the complexities of getting dressed in a kimono.  Wanting to experience the rigmarole of being dressed in a kimono, putting on tabi or toe socks and shuffling along on tabi shoes (ones that separate the big toe from the one next to it like Aussie thongs), I decided to hire a kimono in Japan.  

Hiring a kimono

A friend, who has visited Japan many times, suggested that I have the experience somewhere away from the big cities. She recommended Kawagoe, an Edo Period castle town 40km northwest of Tokyo.  I booked two nights in Kawagoe and to ensure that I didn’t miss out, I booked a kimono hire online.

It wasn’t a simple process. There are numerous shops that hire kimonos, but I only found one with an English website. And even that wasn’t very clear. I booked what I thought was a kimono and an elaborate hairdo. It was very reasonably priced.

The price should have been a red flag. Instead, I naively thought “oh that’s good, it’s not too expensive.”

Choosing a kimono

When I arrived at the shop, three men and three women line up ahead of me. They were French. One of the women, the older one, told me “My daughter is getting married here [Kawagoe] today.”

Rows of colourful kimonos and shelves of obis (the wide ‘belt’) filled the shop. An assistant guided us to a particular section of a rack of kimonos and told us to select something from there. I waited patiently, watching as they gently jostled between and around each other along the packed racks, choosing their outfits.

When they were done, I slid in to choose mine. The brightly coloured kimonos were a bit garish for me and I sought out a more subdued one in a neighbouring section. I chose a plain black kimono one with small white embroidered rectangle highlights. The assistant indicated that this kimono was cheaper than what I’d paid for. That didn’t bother me – it was the one I wanted.

That’s something to know when hiring a kimono. There is a price range – I hadn’t understood this when I booked.  

Next, I found a plain cream embossed obi, a wide sash that wraps around the waist, to complement my black kimono. A thin ribbon with a pale blue detail would be tied around the middle of the obi to complete the look.

I discovered later that kimonos are chosen according to the season.  Colourful kimonos are worn in spring, and it was spring in Kawagoe when I was there.

Being dressed in a kimono

Like a geisha, I needed a dresser. And not because I didn’t know what I was doing. Putting on a kimono is complicated. My ‘dresser’, wearing black elastic waisted track pants style and a black t-shirt, followed me into a small cubicle. She closed the curtain and held up a flimsy white garment so I could undress privately.

With few words and many gestures, she proceeded to dress me. With my back to her I put my sleeves into the nightdress like undergarment which she then tied into place, wrapping the left side over the right. Next came the collar which the dresser threaded with stiffening.

Getting dressed in a kimono is a complicated process

After putting my arms through the sleeves of the kimono, things started to get complicated. My dresser tied a thick towelling fabric buffer around my waistline, holding the kimono in place with flat coloured pegs. She tugged at the kimono making sure it sat properly and then reaching around my waist wrapped several different layers around me.

I lost count of how many. There were a few thin cords – I don’t know their purpose – and then a thicker stiff band to support the obi. I felt as if the flab around my middle was being pulled in, a bit like I expect a corset would feel. While I could breathe comfortably, it was tight.

The obi and toe socks

The obi when unrolled was nearly four metres long. My dresser wrapped it around my waist and with a skill that only comes from practice, tied it into a fashionable knot at the back. To finish the look, the thin ribbon or accent piece was fitted and tied on top of the obi.

Bending down awkwardly (the obi restricted my movement), I pulled on a pair of toe socks. They had little slip resistant beads on the sole and a seam from my toes to my ankle along the upper-middle side of the sock.

Getting my hair done

Then, I was herded into the “hair room” and sat down in front of a mirror. One of the French women was already seated in a chair next to me as her dresser curled her long dark hair. I, on the other hand, was given a small ragged red rose to tuck behind my ear.

I knew my short grey hair would be a problem, but I did expect something more than a tiny nondescript flower.  I should have realised that with the hire price I paid, hair, make-up, and even a better handbag than the drawstring purse that came with my booking are all additional extras.

Because I had chosen a ‘cheaper’ kimono than my basic hire package covered, I negotiated the inclusion of a nicer straw handbag with the difference.  Putting on the “one size fits all” tabi shoes, I shuffled out the store.

Stepping into the street wearing a kimono

Immediately, I felt the hot rays of the sun burning into my exposed neck. I needed an umbrella. The kimono hire store advertises umbrellas as an extra, so I returned to hire one, but they denied having any. Fortunately, a few doors down the road I found a shop selling an inexpensive black umbrella with white trim. It matched my kimono perfectly.  

Cherry trees were about to blossom and apparently there were some near the river, a kilometre or two away. That seemed like a good destination for a stroll in my kimono. With Mr B trailing behind me, I shuffled through suburban Kawagoe. We found one cherry tree and nothing resembling a river but had a lovely walk exploring suburban Kawagoe.

Reactions to me wearing a kimono in Japan

I’d read that locals might engage with me, a westerner wearing a kimono, and was looking forward to interacting with locals. That didn’t happen. Probably tourists wearing kimonos is a common sight these days. One woman smiled at me, and a young child pointed me out to her mother as they drove past.

Had I committed a faux par by wearing black? It seems not. Black is seen as elegant, and that’s how I felt.

Did I have fun wearing a kimono in Japan?

I had fun experiencing the complexity of being dressed in a kimono and then parading out and about in Kawagoe, but I only lasted a couple of hours. It was tiring shuffling along in tabi shoes. Once we’d found the tree with cherry blossoms, taken some photos and walked back to the old town, I was ready to return the kimono and change into more comfortable attire.

Would you wear a kimono in Japan?