Japan’s Venerated Kimono Industry Faces Uncertain Future

For four generations, the Hirose family of Hirose Dyeworks has hand-dyed intricate Edo komon patterns for kimono fabric. The craft is an art form and a labour of love that has sustained a century-old enterprise once at the centre of Japan’s fashion industry.

Today, master craftsman Yuichi Hirose says he’d rather not think about the business side of things — but he must. The trade that was booming when his family joined the profession during the reign of Emperor Taisho is now under serious strain.

“Back then dyeing artisans didn’t have to worry about making a living,” he said. “Now, I’m always concerned and thinking to myself, ‘what can I do?’ It’s hard,” said Hirose, explaining that he feels both privileged and duty-bound to preserve the family business while supporting the continuation of techniques that are increasingly rare.

Japan’s close-knit community of kimono houses, specialist fabric makers and craftspeople faces an increasingly uncertain and worrying future.

Retail sales of kimono have plummeted nearly 90 percent since the early 1980s, from 1.8 trillion yen ($11.8 billion) in 1981 to 224 billion yen ($1.4 billion) in 2023, according to Yano Research. This trend is further compounded by an 80 percent decline in the number of traditional craftspeople in the sector — down from 288,000 in 1979 to 54,000 in 2020, according to Japanese travel agent and clothing rental firm Edo Kagura.

As the number of artisans dwindle, many are now sounding the alarm over the risk of a permanent loss of know-how. The precariousness of some skills is pushing craftspeople to adapt and diversify their business, as they examine new ways to make wafuku (traditional Japanese clothing) items feel more accessible and relevant, especially given the abundance of antique and vintage kimono products available at lower price points.

Modernisation, Collaboration and Diversification

Kyoto-based Gion Naito, a 150-year-old family-run business producing traditional footwear, remains true to its heritage while looking ahead.

Around 10 years ago, company director Seiji Naito began developing modern iterations of zori sandals amid dwindling expertise, noting that a simpler process had to be adopted. Through this the company found a broader market, creating both accessible and cutting-edge designs while collaborating with the likes of Kenzo for runway shows. “The younger generation had never seen anything like it,” Naito recalls.

This is one approach master craftspeople are adopting — modernising designs and techniques while staying true to classic style archetypes.

Another aspect of artisanal support is ensuring there is sufficient alternative work as demand for new kimono decreases. Specialist fabric weaving, dyeing, embroidery and sewing are all highly technical skills that take years of experience to cultivate. Over time, some wafuku firms have diversified their clientele and collaborators, seeking out partners that value their craft while exploring new ways to preserve the skills they possess.

Hosoo, a storied Kyoto textile mill founded in 1688 originally supplied fabrics exclusively for kimono and obi belts worn by members of the imperial family and Kyoto’s aristocracy. Over time it has broadened its practice to interiors, western fashion and art. Masataka Hosoo, 12th generation leader of the company, explained that the shift began in the late 2000s when the company sought to look outward after the effects of the rapidly shrinking kimono market became painfully clear.

In 2008, the company showed its textiles at the Louvre Museum in Paris, and subsequently received a commission from architect Peter Marino, who was in the midst of designing flagship stores for major fashion houses. This placed the company at a crossroads, creating a need to develop wider looms to deliver for new projects, and shifting the company from predominantly a kimono weaver to a luxury textile manufacturer.

“Yet the spirit of kimono weaving — precision, elegance and respect for material — continues to guide everything we create,” said Hosoo, noting that the company continues to create fabric for kimono and obi.

Hosoo is among a growing number of artisanal Japanese producers that supply global luxury brands. The firm boasts clients such as Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Dior and most recently Gucci, for a range of intricately embroidered handbags. It is also part of the LVMH Métiers d’Art initiative.

Navigating Uncertainty Ahead

Those who remain in the kimono industry are concerned about the health of family-run businesses reliant on skills that may not survive unless they take deliberate steps to protect them.

Techniques like yuzen, where glutenous rice is used as a resist, allowing for free-style hand painted designs, have been used since the 17th century, while Hirose’s craft, Edo komon, a hand-dyeing technique which results in intricate, delicate patterns that look like a single colour from afar, originated in the Muromachi and Edo periods, around the 15th to 17th centuries, and were once worn by samurai.

“The dyeing technique needs to be handed on. I feel stronger and stronger about this. It’s a big responsibility but worth doing,” Hirose said, noting traditional techniques are a part of Japanese culture and identity.

Craftspeople say that they must think strategically about how to future-proof their business, in the absence of government-level support.

Naito said that in Japan official budgets are designated for certain “high-society crafts” such as mikoshi and Heian period kimono, but not for “daily craft”, such as traditional sandals or shoji screens. He finds himself stuck in the middle. “I don’t belong in either category,” Naito said, bemused.

For Hirose, this issue recently came into sharp focus when one of the dyeing artisans he respects the most doubted whether he should pass on the craft to his children, citing the uncertain future of the profession. “I was really sad to hear that, because he has so much technique, such value in his hands,” Hirose said. “But there’s no easy way. We have to keep going, not relying on anyone else.”

Such determination speaks to the value of the kimono in Japan, representing more than a millennium of fashion history imbued with culture, politics, religion and artistry. The garment’s traditional techniques form a link through time, expressing the identity of the nation culminating in it status as national dress. The idea of completely losing such treasured craft, refined over dynasties and generations, is unimaginable and unlikely, said Hirose. “If there’s no culture then there’s country,” he quips.

Others take a different approach to the kimono entirely. Hiroko Takahashi, an artist who uses kimono as her medium, is sceptical that the kimono would ever become a mainstream form of everyday clothing again, but she said it offers a form of expression that evolves with society and the times. “Even if the kimono does not survive in its original form, its core essence will continue to be passed down and preserved. Items inspired by the kimono, such as robe-like garments, have already become established in fashion,” she said.

Takahashi believes bravery is needed to propel the kimono into the future and recently created attire for sumo elite, using new approaches untested by artisans with ancient skills. “Even in traditions that are often seen as untouchable or meant to be strictly preserved, facing creation without fear of challenge is essential. I believe this fearless approach to making things is the only way for these traditions to survive and thrive 100 years from now,” she said.

From Ceremonial Garment to Street Style

Kimono styles were traditionally guided by the rules of age, social class and marital status. Made of silk, wool or synthetics, sometimes taking months to weave and sew, today’s kimono is still culturally coded but often worn in a ceremonial context. On the international stage it is a statement of Japanese culture, while in downtown Tokyo, it demonstrates a sense of occasion.

Brides, for instance, may wear shiromuku, a pure white kimono before changing into a more brightly coloured iro-uchikake for the reception. Often such attire is rented from businesses around shrines where ceremonies take place and requires multiple people to dress the bride in the thick, multi-layered garment. During funerals, a black silk mofuku kimono is sometimes worn as a sombre sign of respect and mourning.

Such factors add even more formality to the contemporary kimono, which is why it’s still worn at prestigious events and special occasions such as opening nights or kabuki theatre shows. The garment is also seen when Japan’s cultural elite wish to stand out at overseas events — such as actress Yo Yoshida who wore a white kimono under a red haori jacket at this year’s Cannes Film Festival. Yet only a handful of attendees typically choose to wear one at most of these occasions.

The use of the garment in this exclusive manner, and its shift away from daily wear, have recast the purchase of new kimono as a luxury experience in the minds of many consumers. The result is a landscape of meticulously merchandised boutiques and department stores selling kimono dotted across Tokyo’s Ginza district, in the company of Hermès, Dior and Louis Vuitton, and in upmarket areas Kyoto, Osaka and other major cities.

Fashion enthusiasts are more inclined to bend the rules, styling more affordable kimono into avant-garde confections and trendy outfits or even as streetwear looks. “Younger generations tend to wear kimono in a fashion-orientated way, rather than for ceremony,” said Hirose, noting his attitude was that “anyone can wear kimono” even if the garment is still imbibed with a sense of privilege.

Some celebrities have inspired people to embrace the traditional kimono while others have reimagined it as a form of rebellious pride. Rockstar Yoshiki Hayashi launched a punk-meets-wafuku brand called Yoshikimono, influenced by his parents’ kimono fabric shop as well as eclectic references such as anime and manga.

A variety of Japanese brands have also been instrumental in deconstructing and hybridising the garment for modern life. Outerwear label Snow Peak has collaborated with kimono artisans at Yamato Co. for an ‘outdoor kimono’, while fashion and lifestyle brand Heralbony released a hand-dyed yukata (unlined summer kimono) in collaboration with 100-year-old Kyoya Somemonoten. Both offerings cater to men and women.

This cultural split between tradition and innovation is also reflected in Japan’s dwindling kimono fashion media landscape.

Utsukushii Kimono, a print magazine founded in 1953, serves as equal parts shopping guide, ode to the craft, trend resource and style inspiration. Published by Hearst Fujingaho — the company behind the Japanese editions of Elle and Harper’s Bazaar — it follows a similar formula to rival Kimono Salon, produced by Sekai Bunka. Utsukushii Kimono generally focuses on traditional styling and conservative makeup, yet shows more flexibility in its choice of cover stars, featuring figures such as Gen Z actress and model Suzu Hirose.

In contrast, newer magazine KimonoAnne showcases edgier models, often with dyed hair, wearing trendy accessories in surrealist, high-contrast images or street style-inspired shoots. Past cover stars include comedian and body positive influencer Naomi Watanabe as well as singers Amiaya and Moe Kamikokuryo of Angerme. The title’s younger readers would be more inclined to buy kimono in unconventional prints or vintage kimonos sold in thrift stores paired with modern jewellery.

Optimistic Outlook for the Yukata

While the kimono can be complex to wear, spawning a whole industry of professional kimono dressers, its cousin, the simple yukata, has seen a more straightforward transition into everyday wear. Typically made of breathable cotton and favoured in summer, the garment features seasonal prints made with traditional techniques such as chusen, an Edo-period dyeing process that ensures colour penetrates both sides of the fabric.

With straightforward features like ready-tied obi and casual belts, yukata are popular at summer festivals and firework displays, with domestic tourism helping to drive renewed demand and international travellers starting to play a part. Nara-based retailer Yumeori Honpo says foreign buyers now account for 70 percent of sales, often purchasing yukata as loungewear. Prices range from Uniqlo’s 5-6,000-yen ($33-39) lines to pop-culture collaborations with characters from animation studios like Ghibli.

Although clumsy attempts to reimagine the kimono by foreign brands — often without understanding the nuances and intricacies of Japanese culture — have famously backfired, many traditional wafuku businesses in Japan are eager to expand abroad.

Earlier this year, Yamato Co., made its international debut with a permanent store in Paris. Takayuki Yajima, chief executive and great grandson of the man who founded the company in 1917, used the occasion to explain how his vision for the kimono’s future inspired the move abroad. “The kimono should not be seen as a relic of the past, but as an essential in contemporary fashion wardrobes that can mix seamlessly with other pieces.”

Yamato Co.’s move, like those of other wafuku firms, underscores a simple truth: there is no single solution to safeguard Japan’s kimono industry. The recurring theme is that it’s up to individual companies and artisans to remain committed to the trade and find sustainable ways to stay profitable while preserving endangered skills.

For his part, Naito finds hope in safeguarding the sector through what he calls “the Kyoto model” in reference to Japan’s prosperous craft capital, where people often find effortless ways of embracing modern, cosmopolitan life while still valuing introspection and venerating tradition.

“Somehow Kyoto is successful at maintaining its culture while Westernised and indigenous cultures co-exist. It’s a model that keeps the two in balance,” he said.