Thrifted Kitsuke: Findings in the Wild

Last year, I did a brief series on Thrifted Kitsuke (part 1 & part 2) and finding items to compliment the wardrobe, even if you are not in an area or region where kimono are likely to show up at your local thrift store of choice.

One of the things I stressed at that time is the usefulness of revisits to  your preferred store, as turnover of items is entirely dependent on the donations those stores receive. Patience is rewarded, whether it's in a new scarf that can be used for obi-age or han-eri, or handkerchiefs to keep kimono tidy while worn. And, very occasionally, you may find genuine obi lurking among table-runners or kimono shoulder-to-shoulder with bathrobes and nightgowns.

Quite recently, my own patience was rewarded, as I found a lovely stenciled han-haba obi, simply hanging and waiting for someone to spot it for what it was.

Green han-haba obi with fan motif stenciled in gold.

My other find on that same trip was... well... let's say informative:

From several technical points, this could be considered a women's kimono. The sleeves certainly mark it as such, but there are many points against calling it a proper kimono. The first point is that there is no back seam, meaning that the garment was cut from fabric much wider than a traditional tan (which is usually only about 14 inches or so wide).

The spacing of the patterning is another point: while the embroidery work is beautiful, having such prominent work across the back and symmetrical on both sleeves is neither typical nor traditional placement for patterning. The fact that all of this beautiful thread-work goes WELL past the waist is also quite telling. Remember, on women's garments (which are usually at least as tall as the woman wearing them) a fold would be taken at the waist and all of this work would then be hidden under the obi. This would also be quite uncomfortable, as there is a certain dimensional quality to the embroidery work, and it would likely feel quite lumpy under the obi.

The next point to observe is that the fabric (rayon, according to the printed-in-English label) does not have the hand that one generally associates with the silk, or even synthetics of lined kimono.

Finally, there is the lining itself. Many of the lined kimono in my collection have the lining pieced from two different solid colored fabrics, with the paler fabric used for most of the body and the overlaps and lower portions in a darker, generally complimentary color to the kimono. (Vintage and antique kimono will often have vibrant red linings, but more modern kimono will generally have white.)Whenever I have encountered lined kimono where all pieces of the lining are composed of a white fabric, the edges and hem are often dip-dyed in a color complimentary to the outer fabric. This robe's lining is entirely white, with no coloring at the hems or edges.

A garment like this was most likely manufactured specifically for the tourist trade. It even came with a matching narrow sash, to tie it closed as one might a western-style bath or dressing robe. It is certainly not a garment that should be passed off and worn as a traditional kimono, but there is no reason to not enjoy it's unique artistry around the house.

Collection: Baskets and Bags

Before I started dressing in kimono with any sort of frequency, I didn't give much consideration to the bag I used to carry all of the little day-to-day things from which I can't bear to be parted. My requirements were simple: can I wear it slung over my shoulder and does it have a place for my wallet, keys, and cell-phone?

For my casual life, these are still my requirements, but when I am dressing in kimono, it's a different story. If I am in kimono, I want something that will hold the essentials (money, phone, keys) but I also want it to look like it is part of the outfit. The ideal is for something that transcends utilitarian and becomes its own accessory.

I've made note of my baskets and bags in previous entries, but I'm taking this time to introduce these items individually, as well as to bring out some that I have yet to pair with an ensemble.

Takekago kinchaku or 'basket-bag.' A bamboo basket is lined and used as the base for a drawstring bag. Ann picked up this yabane (arrow-fletching) patterned one in a little store in Shizuoka when she had a chance to visit in 2005.

Another takekago kinchaku. This one came from the same store as the one above. It's decorative fabric is dyed using the technique of shibori.

This basket has a hinged lid and is unlined, though I usually toss a furoshiki or handkerchief in to keep things from rattling about too much.

I like to do a lot of my own crafting for the ensembles that I put together and to that end I look for interesting and serviceable baskets with an eye to turning them into purses. Most of my finds come from thrift stores so it's a relatively inexpensive way to add a finishing touch to an ensemble. By adding the final touches myself, it also means that I have something that is entirely unique.

This basket came from one of our local thrift stores and I had the fabrics to make the lining in my collection. This basket is fully lined, similar to the more traditional Japanese basket-bags seen above.

This basket was also a thrift store find, but I have not yet made a lining or closure for it. It's fairly spacious, so I usually only use a furoshiki to keep the contents concealed.

 I also have an appreciation for vintage pieces and have had a good deal of luck at finding things that I feel are suitable to my look in antique and thrift stores as well as rummage sales and other events.

All three of these are vintage pieces, if not actually antique at this point.

The cream-colored clutch is one that I found in an antique mall and is embroidered with a design reminiscent of rose-buds.  The black brocade bag was found at a sale benefiting San Jose's Yu Ai Kai; the photo does not do it justice as it is quite ingeniously constructed. The orange and white clutch has a delightful texture created, as near as I can tell, by a weaving technique, though the texture itself is reminiscent of shibori. While the traditional Japanese wave-type motif shows up quite well in the photo, in person it can be quite subtle and would not be out of place with most of my ensembles.

The more that I dress in kimono, the more I find out how valuable these accessories are in completing the look. I give as much consideration to what I'll use to carry my things as I do to selecting the items that I'll be wearing. Merely utilitarian no longer, these little gems have their own place to shine in the composition of the ensemble.