RETROSPECTIVE
From costume to catwalk: tracking the evolution of the kimono
The West has a tendency to view fashion as a recent, entirely home-grown invention, cheerfully ignoring the contribution of the rest of the world. This view is being cleverly broadened by a new exhibition, Kimono: Kyoto to Catwalk, at London’s V&A. Remarkably, it is the first European show dedicated solely to the kimono, and it explores almost 1,300 years of evolution, the garment’s deeply complex visual language and its wider-reaching influence.
It first appeared during the Heian period (7941185) as a simple, one-size-fits-all solution – the literal translation of kimono is “wearing thing”, from the words ki (wears) and mono (thing). Made by hemming long pieces of cloth together, the simple construction meant that during the Kamakura period (1185-1333), the emphasis shi ed to how it was worn, the colours used and the overall decoration. By the Edo period (1603-1868), this had reached giddying heights of sophistication, with kimonos regarded as highly valuable works of art.
Made from a single bolt of cloth (a tanmono), the cut never changes, regardless of who is wearing it. The only concession is the length of the original cloth, with women’s measuring 11.5 metres, while men’s is 12.5 metres long. To hold it closed, an obi
– a length of matching or contrasting cloth that measures up to four metres – is wrapped around the torso, effectively obscuring body definition, leaving a tubular silhouette with only the neck on show.
Anna Jackson, curator of the show, explains why the garment offers such a radically different style of dressing. “This conception of clothing is very unlike that of the West and is born of a different notion of the relationship between dress and the body. Western aesthetics have tended to emphasise the wearer’s shape, with supporting devices sometimes used to accentuate specific features. In Japanese dress, the shape of the body is essentially irrelevant.”
With the body ignored, the cloth becomes allimportant. Woven into complex geometric forms, delicately dyed with shibori (tie dye) techniques, or laboriously hand-embroidered, it was the canvas upon which artists could display their skill. “The way the kimono is constructed creates a continuous flat plane that provides a platform for decorative design. The fact that the surface is the significant site of meaning in Japanese dress explains why the kimono has altered so little,” Jackson says.
Not only beautiful to the eye, the decoration also offered visual clues about the wearer. Aside from the use of silk, the pattern declared a person’s tastes, social standing, family ties and even political leanings. A cartwheel motif, for example, implied noble birth, because of its allusion to Noh plays, which only aristocrats were permitted to watch. Likewise, Chinese characters declared the wearer’s superior literacy and learning. Such subtlety meant that pattern books, hinagata bon, were a prerequisite when designing, with the earliest known example dating from 1666, called Shinsen O-Hinagata, or A New Selection of Respected Patterns.
As westerners began to trade with Japan (led by the Portuguese circa 1543), Japan’s unique aesthetic became more widely known, and demand in Europe soared. Aristocrats were eager to be seen in this strange new garb, including the Dutch lady Anna Elizabeth van Reede, whose 1678 portrait shows a kimono worn over her dress. By the 1700s, the fashionable of Europe donned expensive, imported padded kimonos as evening wraps. Beautifully woven, and made to be seen, the kimono’s influence lingers as the modern-day dressing gown. In 1900, kimonos were being designed to cater to western tastes and fit over western clothes, but by the 1920s this changed dramatically, with the emergence of designers who took the unheard of step of reimagining western clothes along Japanese lines. “The kimono’s biggest impact on western fashion came in the early 20th century, when designers such as Paul Poiret, Mariano Fortuny and Madeleine Vionnet abandoned tightly corseted styles in favour of loose layers of fabric that draped the body,” Jackson explains.
In reference to a silk robe with vertical black and white stripes and deep, asymmetric sleeves, Jackson says: “The garment is believed to have been designed by Emilie Flöge who was part of the Viennese avantgarde and a life-long friend of artist Gustav Klimt.”
This new approach helped spur an obsession in the 1920s and 1930s with anything Japanese (o en lumped with China under the term chinoiserie), an elegant example of which is a Cartier 1930s woman’s vanity case, made to resemble an inro, the lacquered box worn at the waist by every fashionable 18thcentury man. Armed with novel ways to combine colours and a new lexicon of pattern, the loose, swathing shape of a kimono, devoid of distracting buttons or pockets, was a revelation.
“It is the simple construction and sumptuous surfaces that have provided inspiration for global dress styles over the centuries. The potential of the garment to be deconstructed and re-formed makes it a uniquely versatile foil for fashion.”
And that effect continues. For her 1997 album Homogenic, singer Bjork wore a custom-made kimono by Alexander McQueen, while Jean Paul Gaultier dressed Madonna in a knee-length, blood-red version in the video for her 1999 single, Nothing Really Matters, sleeves trailing on the ground. For Christian Dior haute couture, John Galliano created a blossom-pink kimono, now as a sculpted bar jacket over a gracefully wrapped skirt, for spring/summer 2007. At Thom Browne, the kimono was reworked into men’s suiting for spring/summer 2016.
Amid all the dazzling examples in the new exhibition, however, sits one rather drab-looking robe. In pale brown, there is nothing remarkable about it, yet it is arguably the most famous piece in the show, already familiar to millions.
For the original Star Wars film in 1977, director George Lucas wanted the character Obi-Wan Kenobi to be part Buddhist monk and part Samurai warrior. In response, costume designer John Mollo cra ed this simple kimono worn by Alec Guinness.
“The kimono is o en viewed as a traditional, timeless costume, rather than a fashionable garment. We counter that conception by showing that kimonos have always been highly dynamic, at the heart of a fashion culture that has thrived in Japan since the 1660s. Japan is currently experiencing a kimono revival, with a new wave of designers creating garments to appeal to a younger generation, so this seemed a good moment to have the exhibition.”
From the recent backlash against Kim Kardashian West’s attempted hijacking of the name for a business, we learnt that the kimono is still held dear by many. What this exhibition shows is, far from being a dusty relic of the past, the kimono, in all its beautiful iterations, is still very much alive.
Sarah Maisey
Kimono: Kyoto to Catwalk is on at the V&A until Sunday, June 21