Meiji Era Kimono Restoration: The Beginning

Project 1, part 1 – Origin Story and Starting Point

My first project to share with you all is the restoration of this beautiful green Meiji Era irotomesode kimono.

Restoration means different things to different people, and honestly means different things to me depending on the item in question. In this case, my aim is to repair all the ripped seams, replace the missing/shredded sleeve lining in one sleeve, and mend as many of the small holes/tears in the collar and hems as possible, with the aim of being able to (carefully) wear this beautiful piece of history. I believe clothes are meant to be worn if at all possible, and I love dressing up!

I acquired this kimono in 2020 from Kyoto Art & Antiques in Seattle. It’s a silk irotomesode (colored tomesode), with a length of 144cm and a wingspan of 130cm. It has 5 mon, or crests, which are the Omodaka, or three-leaf arrowhead design.

This is quite a formal kimono – one that nowadays would likely only be worn by a guest at a wedding. Tomesode are considered suitable for married women – and this is a women’s kimono, not a men’s. It is from the Meiji Era (~1868 to 1912) in Japan. How do I know this, one might ask? Actually, that’s a really good question. Kimono, unlike Western clothes, don’t change their cut or styling very quickly, so dating them can be quite difficult. Naturally, I do trust the auction house I purchased it from, however, there are a couple of other indicators.

The red silk lining generally marks it as a pre-war artifact. Additionally, I’ve been able to find some other auctions such as this one that are similar in appearance to mine that are also dated to the Meiji Era. Based on the relatively good condition and some similar kimono, my guess is that mine is likely from somewhere between 1890-1910.

So, what’s wrong with it?

True story: I sat down with this not long after I purchased it to pin up all the ripped seams in anticipation of some light mending duties. When I got to one of the sleeves I got very confused – none of the seams matched up! Finally I turned the whole thing inside out, and realized that part of the red silk lining had been cut away from the sleeve at some point during its life. They had left part along the edge, so I’m uncertain why it was done – did they need the fabric for some other reason? Did it get badly damaged somehow? It’s one of the many things I adore about antique clothes – the mystery!

Additionally, there are some small moth holes on the collar, and some frayed areas on the hem.

Tune in next time, when I’ll share my adventures in getting matching silk, and how I’ll be approaching the project!