What Gives Me Joy
I was born in Japan and moved to the U.S. as a child. I spent 30 years there, mostly in NYC, before relocating to Okinawa four years ago. My background is in documentary film and photography, and my move here had a lot to do with a film I’m working on about the indigenous people of Okinawa and how they continue to be trampled by the Japanese government and the huge U.S. military presence and accompanying atrocities.
Other reasons I moved here are because I wanted to live a lifestyle that is more in line with what I believe is the correct way—to live more in tune with nature and extricate myself from the extremely capitalistic lifestyle that is required in a place like New York City. In NYC, the produce section in the supermarket looks the same year-round because everything is flown in. In Okinawa, I walk through the neighborhood farms and drop 100 yen into a box in exchange for a head of cabbage or whatever is growing. In NYC, I scrambled to make ends meet, sometimes unable to—constantly earning and spending. In Okinawa, I work minimal hours, and dedicate my free time to creative endeavors or playing in the sea. I’m more whole here. But as a Japanese and U.S. national, I am aware that I’m borrowing space on indigenous land, so I try to be humble and respectful.
Participating in the clothing industry has always bothered me, so a few years ago, I decided to learn how to sew my own clothes. It was then that I came across so many sewing patterns named “Kimono,” “Haori” or Japanese names and places. This bothered me intensely.
In the U.S., there were more than a few Halloween parties where I encountered girls dressed up as “Geishas,” mostly in skimpy bathrobes, inevitably accompanied by whorish and exaggerated behaviors that were supposed to resemble “Japanese Woman.” Sometimes, these offenses were committed by people who were friends at the time. When I protested, I was told not to make a big deal. Silenced. So I internalized the hurt and anger I experienced every time I saw bathrobes, shirts, jackets and even underwear incorrectly labeled “Kimono” by Western designers. Or when people said things like, “I thought Japanese women were supposed to be more [fill in the blank]” or asked, “Why are you so opinionated?”
As I continued to sew and be irked by the pattern names, I started going through a box of kimonos that used to belong to my grandmother. At first, just to confirm that these sewing patterns did not resemble real kimonos. Then I began taking kimono-wearing lessons, which is incredibly complicated but fun. Then I took one of my grandmother’s kimonos apart and made a jacket that I now wear frequently. This action spoke to me in many ways. 1) Extricate myself from fast fashion 2) Recycle used material 3) Honor my heritage. And that’s when I had the idea to create @made.by.yuki.
During this journey, I came across @little_kotos_closet. Reading her honest, thoughtful words and sometimes outrage about cultural appropriation, freed me in many ways. It’s empowering to have someone brave in my corner, who speaks up against something that hurt me for a long time.
Some make the argument that people in Japan don’t mind if foreigners wear kimonos, and they’re mostly right, because people in Japan have not experienced CA or racism like those of us who live(d) in the West. Others say that Japan is also guilty of colonialism. True, and I would never dress up in the traditional clothing of the Ryukyu Kingdom (former name of Okinawa) or other cultures we have colonized in the past.
But I don’t want to hide the kimonos away from the world. I want you to appreciate it, not appropriate it. Unravel the false connections that have been made around Kimonos = Geishas = Japanese Women. All societies have had courtesans/ entertainers/ prostitutes but that does not define us, or the Kimono. It’s written 着物 and literally translates to “thing you wear.” They were worn for working in the field, in the home, for meeting friends, coming of age ceremonies, weddings, and funerals. It was the clothing of all Japanese, before we lost the war and became Americanized.
Here, I will introduce you to the craft that went into making kimonos. If you love textiles like I do, I hope you will find this interesting. I intentionally make simple, modern styles that are easy to wear, and can fit a wide range of sizes. I will also provide some information about different types of kimonos for different occasions. But I do not have deep expertise in kimonos. I just want to make clothing that gives people an opportunity to appreciate the craft and real heritage of Kimonos. This is what gives me joy.