Tag Archive | japanese

Display Items from Clothiers 2020

For those who were unable to make it to this year’s Clothiers event, here are the examples I brought to share for the Japanese display. They are a couple of garments that I had made, plus a few panels of vintage (1940s-1960s) kimono panels that showed modern examples of some dyeing techniques that were used in pre-Edo Japan. Of course, the motifs are smaller on these modern pieces but they show the complexity of these simple garments. Note: the panels are from damaged vintage kimono that I had taken apart to reuse the silk for other projects.

pink_uchikake
Pink Brocade Uchikake, photo by Jay Reynolds

Item: Pink Brocade Uchikake Kosode 打掛小袖
Time: Muromachi Era (1336-1573)
Place: Japan
Owner: Ki no Kotori
Made by: Ki no Kotori
Points of Interest: This piece is a kosode (small-sleeved garment) uchikake. The sleeves are smaller and the panels are wider than that of a modern kimono. The average width of a kimono panel is between 12-14 inches, while kosode panels were 17-18 inches wide. During the 17th century, the kosode evolved into the kimono, becoming longer and narrower, with larger sleeves and an altered neckline. The obi (belt) that held the garment in place also evolved from a simple narrow belt to an intricately woven band that covered most of the abdomen.
This modern Chinese brocade is similar to the ornate style of brocade favored in the Muromachi Era. The uchikake is meant to be worn open above another kosode (or two—they were often layered, especially in the colder months). Uchikake were always lined. They are still in use today as bridal garments.
This is an earlier piece of mine, made in 2003-2004. There are a few things I would do differently now, especially with padding the bottom of the lining. The materials are modern, but I got them at a clearance sale for a very affordable price and while I did have to change some of the sewing (tighter stitches because Lordy, this stuff frays like crazy!), I think it gives a good approximation of what the garment should look like.

leaf_kosode
Leaf Kosode, photo courtesy of Jay Reynolds

Item: Autumn Leaf Kosode小袖
Time: Azuchi-Momoyama Era (1573-1600)
Place: Japan
Owner: Ki no Kotori
Made by: Ki no Kotori
Points of Interest: This piece is an unlined kosode (small-sleeved garment) that was made by altering a vintage meisen silk kimono. I chose this kimono to alter because of the large pattern, which is similar to what would have been worn before 1600. The silk is probably a silk/poly blend. The original kimono probably dates from the 1950’s. Meisen silk is a kasuri (ikat) weave where the design is stenciled on the warp and then woven in. It was extremely popular from the 1920’s until the 1960’s. The Kasuri technique does date back into the middle ages, although it didn’t become widely used until the Edo period (1603-1868).
The sleeves are slightly larger than a true kosode because I wanted to show off the leaf pattern on them. I added strips of a scrap piece of rayon to widen the garment. The rayon I had was too short and so I had to piece it at the bottom. I also had to put in a wide hem as the original kimono was a bit too long. There are several late-period examples of pieced kosode, although usually using horizontal rather than vertical lines. The original garment was unlined, so I kept it that way. By adapting the vintage kimono and using the scrap rayon (left over from another project), I kept the price of the project down to about $30.

striped_shibori_example
Multi-colored Vintage Kimono Panel (on right of photo), photo courtesy of Edward Hauschild

Item: Multi-colored Vintage Kimono Panel
Time: Estimated Mid-Showa Era (1926-1989—probably 1940’s)
Place: Japan
Owner: Ki no Kotori
Where purchased: YokoDana Trading
Points of Interest: This piece is an example of somewake 染分 (using various colors) dyeing, a technique first used during the Kamakura Era (1185-1333). The earliest extant example of this technique is a drawing of a woman from 1309.

blue_shibori_example
Blue Shibori Example, photo by Edward Hauschild

blue_shibori_example_weave_and_kanoko
Blue Shibori Example, Detail showing Sayagata weave and Kanoko dots

Item: Blue and White Kimono panel showing weave and shibori dyeing
Time: Estimated Mid-Showa Era (1926-1989—probably 1960’s)
Place: Japan
Owner: Ki no Kotori
Where purchased: YokoDana Trading
Points of Interest: The weave pattern is called sayagata 紗綾形 (linked manji design). The manji is a reversed swastika used as a Buddhist motif, therefore the pattern is considered auspicious. The sayagata weave came to Japan quite late in period (about 1573) from China. Along with the sayagata are alternating rows of susuki 薄 (pampas grass) and kiku 菊 (chrysanthemum).
This example shows how a variety of shibori 絞り (tie-dye) techniques can be used on a single piece of cloth. The larger pattern was probably created using ori-nui 折縫い (folded and sewn) shibori, while the smaller dot-like areas were either done by miura 三浦 (loop braiding) shibori or chuu-hitta kanoko shibori 中匹田鹿子 (medium dots within squares/fawn spots). The two look quite similar. Miura shibori is an Edo period (1603-1868) development that imitated kanoko shibori, examples of which can be found as far back as the Nara period (710-794).

pink_shibori_1_example
Pink Tsujigahana Example, photo by Edward Hauschild

pink_shibori_2_example
Detail of Pink Tsujigahana Example, photo courtesy of Edward Hauschild

pink_shibori_2_example_weave_sayagata
Detail showing sayagata weave and closer view of the dye details

Item: Kimono Panel Showing Tsujigahana Techniques
Time: Estimated Mid-Showa Era (1926-1989—probably 1960’s)
Place: Japan
Owner: Ki no Kotori
Where purchased: YokoDana Trading
Points of Interest: Sayagata 紗綾形 (linked manji design) is again featured in this weave, along with alternating rows of ran 蘭 (orchid) and kiku 菊 (chrysanthemum).
This piece is a modern example of tsujigahana 辻ヶ花 (flowers at the crossroads) technique, which originated during the Muromachi Era (1336-1573). The larger areas were tied off with ori-nui 折縫い shibori, then decorated within with tsukidashi kanoko 突き出し鹿子 (spaced dots) and mame 豆絞 (bean) shibori. Some of the edges of the design are embroidered in gold thread, and then a paste is put down and gold and silver leaf are gilded on with a technique called surihaku 摺箔.This piece has a smaller motif than might be used in medieval times but the basic techniques are the same.

Disclaimer: A note about the Sayagata 紗綾形 (linked manji) design. The manji is a reversed swastika and a common Buddhist motif in Japan. As a design, sayagata is considered very auspicious. However, we know that the swastika’s image has been permanently stained by association with Nazi Germany of the 20th century and those who espouse the foul ideals of that regime. Japan itself is discontinuing the use of the manji as a symbol for Buddhist temples on maps because of this. Please know that these historical textile pieces shown here are only on display for educational purposes and to show the intricate dyeing techniques used in Japanese clothing.

YokoDana Trading is a company that sells vintage kimono in bulk, usually as “cutters” for craft projects (quilting, for example) at a very reasonable price. Sometimes there will be kimono included that are in wearable shape, but need to be taken apart for cleaning. Another vendor that I would recommend is Ohio Kimono. The owner has been involved in the SCA and can recommend garments that have more medieval motifs. I’ve gotten a few kimono from her that I have adapted for SCA wear.

A Tidbit Regarding Akane Dye

Ōkuninushi_Bronze_Statue

I happened to be reading a passage in the Kojiki 1, as part of a larger collection of works concerning life in Ancient Japan 2 when I came upon a verse that really caught my eye. The editor had used a translation by Basil Chamberlin in 1919, which fortunately is now in public domain and can be found online (with notes) here. The relevant passage is here, which I quote:

“When I take and attire myself so carefully in my august garments black as the true jewels of the moor, and, like the birds of the offing, look at my breast,—though I raise my fins, [I say that] these are not good, and cast them off on the waves on the beach. When I take and attire myself so carefully in my august garments green as the kingfisher, and, like the birds of the oiling, look at my breast.—though I raise my fins, [I say that] these, too, are not good, and cast them off on the waves on the beach. When I take and attire myself so carefully in my raiment dyed in the sap of the dye-tree, the pounded madder sought in the mountain fields, and. like the birds of the offing. look at my breast,—though I raise my fins, [I say that] they are good. My dear young sister. Thine Augustness! Though thou say that thou wilt not weep,—if like the flocking birds, I flock and depart, if, like the led birds, I am led away and depart, thou wilt hang down thy head like p. 96 a single eulalia upon the mountain and thy weeping shall indeed rise as the mist of [80] the morning shower. Thine Augustness [my] spouse like the young herbs! The tradition of the thing, too, this!”

The notes go on to give a rather thorough interpretation of the poem, but the main point I took was that the man in question (the god, Ōkuninushi) changes his clothes three times, from black robes, to blue, to red. The red mentions the dye “sap of the dye-tree, the pounded madder sought in the mountain fields”.

Seemed a bit vague to me and Chamberlin’s translation style is archaic.

I knew I had more translations of the Kojiki on my shelves, and managed to lay my hands on two of them (there’s a third, I know it, but it eluded me).

Let’s see what Donald Keene makes of it, when he translated the same text in 1968: 3 :

“All dressed up
In my jet-black clothes
When I look down at my breast,
Like a bird of the sea,
Flapping its wings,
This garment will not do;
I throw it off
By the wave-swept beach.

All dressed up
In my blue clothes
Blue like the kingfisher,
When I look down at my breast,
Like a bird of the sea,
Flapping its wings,
This garment will not do;
I throw it off
By the wave-swept beach.

All dressed up
In my clothes dyed
With the juice
Of pounded ATANE plants
Grown in the mountain fields,
Now when I look down at my breast,
Like a bird of the sea,
Flapping its wings,
This garment will do.”

Keene in his notes is unsure whether the clothes changing was to get his wife’s attention and get her to relent (she was angry for him dallying with another woman) or if the song was an accompaniment for a dance requiring frequent changes of costume.

The madder plant is identified as ATANE. Notes in the Chamberlin translation state that it is probably a transcriptionist’s mistake for AKANE 茜 (Rubia Cordifolia). JAANUS has a note about AKANE here, including some notes about how the dye was made:

“This dye was made from the perennial plant madder (Rubia Cordifolia), akane, which grew wild in mountain regions. The roots were collected and left to rest for two or three years. They were then washed, soaked in water, and boiled to extract a bright red dye senryou 染料. Lye, aku 灰汁, was used as a mordant *baizai 媒済, and white rice added to absorb tannin and other impurities. The cloth or thread to be dyed had to be soaked in the lye and thoroughly dried before dipping in hot dye solution. To obtain a dark color, this process was repeated 20 or 30 times.” 4

I went ahead and checked my other book, a newer translation by Gustav Heldt 5 :

“As beads of jet
black are the robes
that I take care
to dress myself in.

A bird in the offing,
I look at my breast,
where they flap about,
but these clothes don’t suit.
Wave-swept the shore
where I softly cast them off.

As a kingfisher
blue are the robes
that I take care
to dress myself in.

A bird in the offing,
I look at my breast,
where they flap about,
but these clothes don’t suit.
Wave-swept the shore
where I softly cast them off.

Sown beside mountains
is the red root pounded
into juices for dye
to dye these robes
that I take care
to dress myself in.

A bird in the offing,
I look at my breast,
where they flap about.
These clothes suit me well.”

I think I like Keene’s translation better, although Heldt’s does have its merits. Note that all three translations put the Akane in “mountain fields”, where indeed it does grow naturally.

It’s a small tidbit, but I just wanted to illustrate here how we can use literature to document material culture. So often in the SCA, there is an emphasis on material culture–we tend to deal with items as opposed to ideas in our study of history, and people will sometimes neglect literature as a source, when in fact it can be quite a rich one.

1. [The Kojiki, attributed to Ō no Yasumaro in 711-712, is the oldest extant chronicle in Japan. The main focus is tales of the gods and early rulers of Japan.]

2. [Singer, Kurt, ed. The Life of Ancient Japan, Selected Contemporary Texts Illustrating Social Life and Ideals Before the Era of Seclusion (Richmond, Surrey, UK, Japan Library 2002) ISBN 1-903350-01-8. Originally published in 1939 by Iwanami Shoten, Tokyo-Kanda. ]

3. [Keene, Donald, trans. Kojiki (Tokyo; University of Tokyo Press, 1968) pp. 108-109 ISBN 4-13-087004-1 ]

4. [JAANUS (Japanese Art and Architecture Net Users System) Akane-iro 茜色 http://www.aisf.or.jp/~jaanus/deta/a/akaneiro.htm ]

5. [Heldt, Gustav, trans. The Kojiki, An Account of Ancient Matters (New York; Columbia University Press, 2014) pp. 34-35 ISBN 976-0-231-16389-7]

Picture credit: Ōkuninushi bronze statue in Izumo-taisha, Izumo, Shimane Prefecture, Japan, via Wikimedia Commons

Something New to Play With

yamabushi-benkei-4
Benkei (the most famous sōhei) from the NHK Taiga Drama, Yoshitsune.

So as I recover from a recent surgery, I have been thinking about getting into Cut and Thrust (Calontir’s version of rapier) after I heal up. Yesterday, the Kingdom marshal for C&T was putting together a group order for gauntlets (he could get a good price if he ordered over 10 pair) and I decided to go in for a pair. Evidently, the rules are changing and the Society is beginning to require rigid protection for the hands.

Yes, technically, I could make gauntlets, especially the hardened leather types, as I have made armor in the past. But the bulk price of $40 (plus a percentage of the group shipping) made it worthwhile to buy. A couple of people in Calontir already have these type of gauntlets, so the kingdom marshal has cleared them for use. (Might need some slight mods, not sure yet.)

Not five minutes after I posted to the interest thread than Ayisha (more properly, HE Baroness Ayisha bint Asad), a local scribe I know who is a C&T enthusiast, PM’d me asking if I was planning to get into C&T. I told her that I was interested, that I had tried rapier back in the Midrealm years ago, but as an armored fighter, I didn’t have the time/money to pursue both. She was thrilled, and said she could bring the Barony’s loaner gear to either one of the Shire meetings or Shire fighter practices (we’re actually starting to have our own, wonder of wonders) if I let her know in advance. She’d be happy to go over all the basics with me, etc. She knows I’m still healing up, so no rush. She just really was eager for a new recruit, LOL.

So yeah, taking that first step. Usually I’d wait on the armor, but since this was a chance to save money, I decided to spring for the gauntlets.

While I heal up, I was giving some thought to the type of kit I would like to have. I’ve admired West Kingdoms’s HE Baroness Saionji no Hana’s rapier get-up, but I was thinking more in the terms of sōhei, especially since I have been researching kato no kesa (their headgear) for awhile, and have been wanting to try to make one.

Sōhei wore typical monk’s garb: kosode, ( Jikitotsu, and kukuri-bakama. Not sure with the kukuri-bakama if I could add ties directly to hakama to get the effect, or make kyahan (leg wraps).

One advantage of this style is that I would not have to worry about being fancy with the fabric. This outfit was traditionally black and white (or brown and white).

I liked Saionji-kimi’s idea of a shitagi for body protection and will give that a try.

Obviously, geta are not a practical choice–the marshal wants closed-toe shoes. I have some jika-tabi that could work for that. Maybe for effect I could make some waraji to wear with them?

The process will take some time, both to make the outfit and also figure out what kind of sword, mask/helm, and gorget I would need. I can decided that after I go through some practices and talk more with Ayisha. But this is the general plan I have in mind. I don’t mind being patient, since it took me nearly a year to build my first suit of armor when I was heavy-weapons fighting. I borrowed armor at practice (everyone knew I was building a set, so I waited my turn and no one minded) in the meantime. I figure this process would be similar.

Anyway, it looks like it will be fun, and also good exercise!

More on Kato no Kesa

detail_kato_no_kesa_from_honen_shonin_eden_3
Detail from the Honen Shonin Eden (Life of the Monk Honen) emaki scroll (around 1307), showing monks wearing kato no kesa.

From a question on the Tousando Board about kato no kesa (someone had directed the questioner to my earlier post on the subject):

Yes, from what I have been able to figure out, kato no kesa are literally kesa worn on the head. The sōhei wore their kesa on their heads rather than on the torso as usual (perhaps for freedom of movement? or disguise?). So yes, as a shortcut you could just use a rectangular cloth tied around your head, but properly, those were kesa, which are sewn in a particular way. Most commonly, the “rice-paddy” pattern is used.

Gojokesa 五条袈裟 or Gojo no kesa 五条の袈裟 is also a term for this garment. From the dictionary definition, it was called that because of it was stitched together from five wide cloths (probably referring to the rice paddy design, which is usually done in five rows, but can be seven or nine, depending on the cloth used and the size of the wearer.

I found a cite for why they used discarded cloth:

“It is difficult to determine what is good and what is evil. Laymen say it is good to wear luxurious silks, embroidered garments, and brocades; and bad to
wear tattered and discarded rags. But in Buddhism it is the opposite: tattered robes are good and pure, richly embroidered garments are evil and soiled. The same applies to all other things as well.

The Madhyam-agama-sutra states, “Virtuous men! Suppose that someone acts purely but speaks and things impurely. If a wise man sees this and becomes angry, it is necessary for him to eliminate his anger. Suppose again that someone acts impurely
but speaks and thinks purely. If a wise man sees this and becomes angry, it is necessary for him to eliminate his anger. How can he do this? Virtuous men! He can do so by following in the footsteps of a solitary monk who picks up discarded cloth to make himself a pãmsula. Like the monk, if he finds the cloth soiled with excreta, urine, nasal mucus or anything else impure, he should pick it up with his left hand
and, stretching it out with his right hand, tear off the unsoiled and holeless parts.”

Yuho Yokoi. Zen Master Dogen (NY, Tokyo: Weatherhill, 1976)pp. 104-105.

As for wearing kesa on the head, it may also have been part of a religious ritual:

“Do-gen Zenji, at the age of twenty-five, was at Tien-tung-shan in China, doing zazen with many monks, when at the end of morning zazen he saw that a monk who sat
next to him held up the okesa with both hands, put it on his head, and with gassho
recited the verse of the okesa:

Great robe of liberation!
Virtuous field far beyond form and emptiness
Wearing the Tathagata’s teaching
We vow to save all beings.

After the monk chanted this verse three times he put on the okesa. Do-gen Zenji had
never seen this great practice before; he was deeply impressed and even shed tears
from a mingled feeling of joy and sorrow.

He talks about this in the last part of the “Kesakudoku,” saying that his robe’s collar was wet from the tears.

“When I was in Japan I read the Ãgama-sutras and found the verse of the kesa; I also found that before one puts on the kesa they should put it on their head. I had not known when and how it correctly was to be done as I had asked my master and friends
but none of them knew. I felt very sorrowful that such a long span of time had passed wastefully without knowing how to handle a kesa in spite of having been at
Hieizan for three years and at Kenninji for nine years. Now, I fortunately could
see and hear with my own eyes and ears the manner in which to wear the kesa
due to good deeds accumulated in previous existences. I was grateful and thankful.
If I had stayed in Japan, I would not have had a chance to see this great
scene. I took pity upon the people in my country because they could not see it”

Eihei Dogen Zenji, Shobogenzo – “Kesakudoku” (The
Merit of Kas´ãya); Shobogenzo -“Den-ne” (The transmission of
the Robe), trans. Yuho Yokoi with Daizen, Victoria.(Weatherhill, 1976).

The Dogen Zenji mentioned is the monk Dogen (1200-1253), founder of the Sōtō school of Zen Buddhism.

What I’m trying to research now is how the construction of the kesa may have changed over time. There are instructions online in English for making kesa (some quite extensive), but as they are concerned with modern religious Buddhist practice, they don’t really go into how the kesa might have evolved. We know that not all kesa were made from toilet rags–some extant pieces are quite fine, and may have been made with donated brocade. These are often seen being worn by wealthy lay-people. Both monks and lay-people (who had taken partial vows) were encouraged to wear kesa as a sign of devotion.

I dunno, just scratched the surface on what is a very rich tradition. It should go without saying–if you want to wear kato no kesa as part of your persona, please remember that it is still part of an ongoing religious tradition, and treat the garment with respect.

Pre-Modern Japanese Text Bibliography

Stumbled on an awesome find today. It’s a list of Pre-modern Japanese texts and what translations (if any) have been done. Dated 2013, but it looks like they are trying to keep it updated. So if you are trying to track down a particular early Japanese primary source, this can tell you if it has been translated and where you can find said translation.

You can find it here: Pre-modern Japanese Texts and Translations.

Note: It is a bibliography, so the translations are not hosted. They try to link to articles and such, but how this helps is finding out if some of these primary sources have been translated into English (or other western languages) and finding out where those translations can be found.

Calontir Clothiers Symposium 2017

muromachi_kosode

Today was the Calontir Clothiers Symposium, which is held by my local Shire, Cum an Iolair. Since it is our local event, I spent much of the day working, mostly at my usual post at Gate. I did sit in on one class in the afternoon, but that was because I was helping with the next class and teaching a third class after that, so I needed to find out what this class covered so that I could adjust my materials accordingly.

Every year at Lilies War, there is a “Tailoring Tent” where volunteers sew like mad to finish a set of outfits for the King and Queen. The theme this year is Japanese, and so I of course am helping out.

The class I helped out with was a panel about 16th century decoration motifs. Since I was just sitting on the panel, I did not do a handout for this class, but I did try to steer conversation around information that I found about kosode history from this website here, which has an excellent overview of the kosode and its evolution. I brought a large number of books and magazines that I own so people could look through them and get ideas.

My own class was called “Kosode Construction: Stitches, Tips, and Tricks.” I was under the impression someone else was doing a class on kosode patterning, so the focus of my class was on the areas that gave me problems when I was first learning to sew kosode. Here is the handout I made. It just touches on the topics I covered, but I tried to include links to online tutorials or videos that might be helpful.

Truth be told, I’m always horribly nervous when teaching, but my students seemed to really enjoy the class and said they got a lot out of it. I was especially touched by one guy who caught up with me afterwards and thanked me, because he had been nervous about trying to sew his own Japanese garb, but now he thought it was something he could handle. That makes it all worth it.

Went out to dinner with some friends, which was fun, but missed the postrevel as I was absolutely exhausted. It was a fun day.

Front picture “Muromachi Kosode” was taken from the book “The History of Women’s Costume in Japan.” Japanese costume recreated in Kyoto during the 1930’s. (Scanned by Lumikettu of Flickr). I do own my own copy of this book as well.

Pre-Edo Sashiko?

This is part of a thread on the SCA Japanese FB page. The original question was whether shibori or sashiko could be pre-Edo period. Shibori certainly was, although called by another name. I’ll do a separate post about that later, since shibori is an area I’m just starting to learn about.

However, I’ve been looking into sashiko. The problem documenting it is that it was a technique used by the poor, and the extant pre-1600 garments that exist are from the upper-class. What we do have is some examples of kesa (the surplice-like garment worn by Japanese Buddhist clergy), which were pieced. That technique existed. Most period paintings/drawings do not have a lot of detail on the poor. Some emaki have depictions of poor people, mainly in line drawings.

So with this lack of resources, you have to look into literature–for example, in a choka poem in the Man’yoshu by Yamanoue no Okura (660?-733?), a destitute man complains of wearing nothing but rags, “a sleeveless jacket not even stuffed with [cotton]” <–translation Steven Carter–I'd need to dig into the text to see the exact wording. While most poetry after Man'yoshu avoided the subject of poverty (until the 17th century poets revisited the subject), there are plenty of tales and writings that have some small bits of description. Padded garments require some supportive stitching, or else the padding eventually slips. Through literature, we can establish that garments were patched.

The decorative sashiko (blue on white) is almost certainly Edo-period, though. But using sashiko stitching as a means of insulation–that might be plausible.

Mistress Saionji no Hana (OL, West Kingdom) posted a link to a discussion on the Tousando Board from some years ago, where there was a discussion about an 8th century example of the kind of stitching used in sashiko. I happen to have a copy of the book mentioned, Jodai-Gire: 7th and 8th Century Textiles in Japan from the Shoso-In and Horyu-Ji by Kaneo Matsumoto and yes, there are a few examples of what looks like sashiko-like stitching. For mending purposes, however, not decorative.

This Old Thing

This was going to be a “Help, fashion emergency, should I wear this old thing or my standby Anglo-Norman garb that everyone has already seen this weekend?” but since the Calontir Coronation got pushed back a week due to the impending Ice-pocalypse, I should have time to finish something else, so I’m just posting these because I have so few pictures of myself in Japanese garb.

At my size, I feel a bit self-conscious wearing it. My body type is 100% Hungarian-American Good Peasant Stock–we’ll live during those famines!–and utterly lacks the narrow-shouldered, slim silhouette common to the Japanese. Which is why I like to make and wear garb of various cultures and not just Japanese. I do look better in European styles.

I’m wearing this as a kosode (“small-sleeved” kimono), but it was originally made as an uchikake (worn open over kosode) some 12 years ago. I’ve gain a lot of weight since then, so it doesn’t fit properly. It should be more baggy, actually, with very wide panels. There are some design things I would do differently now because I know better, but this wasn’t bad for an early work. While the Chinese brocade I’m wearing is modern, it’s not too far off from what might be worn–the Japanese DID import Chinese brocade. Besides, this was on sale and affordable.

I am wearing two kosode underneath–it’s cold here. They wore narrow obi (belts) during that time, just below the waistline, similar to how men wear obi now. This one has some interfacing to stiffen it up a bit, but time has softened it and I need to make a new one.

The wimple-like thing is called a zukin (I’ve written a few times about those–this one is a sode-zukin). My short and modern haircut just doesn’t go with medieval garb (of any country) at all, so I always wear some kind of head covering. Fortunately, it was common for upper-class women to take partial Buddhist vows, so you can wear zukin with fancier garments, although they are much more commonly used with lower-class or monastic garb.

01122017_moi_kosode_kawaii_large

小鳥の歌 43

Smiling serenely
My hands stretch out to offer
Congratulations
Nameless, faceless, I step back
And return to the shadows

Link: serenity to smiling serenely

Two people I know (one online, one in person–although he moved out of kingdom some years ago) were invited to join the Order of the Laurel today. They have worked hard and I am very happy for them. As for myself, well…

I should note there was a tradition of poets expressing disappointment at being overlooked for advancement. I will do a post on that in the future.

小鳥の歌 41 and 42

In a wild twirl
The last leaves of autumn dance
On the lacy grass
The hesitant ones are left
To the wind’s icy mercy

Link: twirling to wild twirl. This one was setting up for the next poem, but was so obvious my brother-in-law caught the reference before I posted the next poem in the sequence. Which was awesome because that’s HOW this kind of thing is supposed to work!

Within the tempest
I am a leaf on the wind
Just watch how I soar
In serenity I wait
For the inevitable

Link: icy mercy to within the tempest (eg: no mercy). The second and third lines are a paraphrase from the Firefly movie “Serenity” (hence the wordplay in line four).

For those unfamiliar:

Now get you heathens hence, and watch Firefly, one of the greatest sci-fi series ever made.