Bibliotheca August 2022 – Spooky Summer: How to Dress a Ghost

Welcome back to Mukashi no Sewing! Or, if you’re here for the first time from the Bay Area Kei Bibliotheca blog circle – then just plain welcome! ❤ This month’s theme for the Bibliotheca bloggers was actually suggested by me – “spooky summer.” Now, if you live in the United States, you probably associate spookiness more with October – autumn leaves, chilly nights, headless horsemen… Maybe if you’re a Traditional Witch or a fan of H.P. Lovecraft you might aim for Walpurgisnacht at the end of April, or Beltane at the beginning of May for some spooky revels! But if you lived in Japan in the Edo period, you were much more likely to think of summer as the best time for spooky stories.

This tradition is known as Hyakumonogatari Kaidankai (百物語怪談会), which literally means “A Gathering of One Hundred Supernatural Tales.” Kaidan (怪談), or “bewitching tales,” would be told over the course of a summer night. With each story, one of a hundred lanterns would be extinguished, eventually leaving the group of storytellers in haunting darkness. It was played in the summer for many reasons – one of which is that Japan’s festival of the returning dead, Obon, is a summer event (it’s very similar to Halloween or Samhain in the West), and another is that the shivering from hearing the scary stories was considered a way to cool down in the oppressive Japanese summer heat! It was also a way for samurai to show off their bravery – although reportedly many groups who played this parlor game stopped at the 99th story to avoid actually summoning the ghosts they’d been speaking of.

But if you’re here at Mukashi no Sewing, you’re here for fashion – so just how did Edo-period ghosts dress?

I recently finished a tremendous book called The Catalpa Bow, by Carmen Blacker, and the author was able to interview many mediums and shamans in the 1950s-70s regarding their practices. She reported that, “Mrs. Hiroshima…declared that to her dead spirits differed in the form they manifested according to their kurai or rank. The higher they advanced, and the nearer they drew towards salvation, the more they tended to resemble shining balls. Miss Ishida [on the other hand] told me in 1972 that to her they usually appeared in the likeness of the person they had been while alive, though frequently they wore an archaic form of dress of pale green or white.”

White is the color of purity, and “…in Buddhism, death is not the ending but just the beginning of another cycle. Appropriately, Japanese Buddhist dressed corpses as pilgrims going on their final journey, called the shidenotabi (死出の旅) meaning ‘the final trip to death.’ The full costume for a corpse is called shinishozoku (死に装束),which means roughly ‘the costume for one going to death.'” (Hyakumonogatari.com) The kimono is crossed right over left for the dead, which is why you’ll see ghosts dressed this way. Western ghosts are often depicted wearing sheets because that’s what they were buried in (as coffins were not readily available for the masses until comparatively recently) – so Japanese ghosts also appear in the garments their former body was dressed in.

Japanese ghosts traditionally don’t have feet, so they don’t get to wear special shoes! But their faces in Noh and Kabuki theater are often depicted with wide eyes and markings showing that they are supernatural in nature. Their hair is often long and disheveled, and their hands may hang limply at the wrists similar to Chinese jiāngshī. However, their appearance is strongly dependent on where and how they died, and the state of their emotions at death.

Just like in the West, many Japanese ghosts can be appeased or released by helping them with an unfinished duty from life, or banished with the assistance of a priest (both Shinto and Buddhist traditions have historically had rites for this function). No matter the era or country, it’s a common human belief that something of us persists after death, and that those who die angry or before their time may rise up to haunt the living. We all wish to know that our loved ones have passed in peace, and that even if that’s not the case that there is hope for redemption after death. I hope you’ve enjoyed this brief overview of ghosts and their fashion sense (or lack thereof!) in the Edo period, and I look forward to seeing you back here next week on Mukashi no Sewing! ❤

Check out what other members of Bibliotheca had to say about this month’s topic!
Crimson Reflections Produces Spooky Lolita Ghost Stories
Cupcakes and Unicorns Plans Her Spooks Well in Advance
frillSquid Stays True to Being Gothic Even in the Summer

Bibliotheca July 2022 – Vacation: What Happens in Ise Stays in Ise

Welcome back to Mukashi no Sewing! Or, if you’re here for the first time from the Bay Area Kei Bibliotheca blog circle – then just plain welcome! ❤ My application to join an incredible lineup of bloggers, fashion enthusiasts, and artists was just accepted this month, and although it’s not required, there’s a theme each month for affiliated bloggers to explore should they wish. I’ve been doing so many projects lately that I haven’t had as much time for the history side of this blog, and I thought this was the perfect opportunity to make that happen!

Although I dabble in other periods, my particular era of historical interest is generally the 1800s or what’s known as the Victorian Era in England and the US (approximately 1837-1901), and the later part of the Edo Period and early Meiji Period in Japan (the entire Edo period was about 1603-1867, and Meiji ran from 1868-1912). There was so much growth and change during that time everywhere in the world, and the clothing was just fantastic. Additionally, the expansion of the middle class in these three countries in particular meant that many people had time for leisure – and therefore, vacations! So, where did they go? And – more importantly – what did they wear? 😀

The short answer is “everywhere,” and “clothing that made sense for the occasion,” just like today! 🙂 For a Victorian woman who wanted to indulge in new outdoor activities like hiking or rock climbing, this meant sturdy fabrics and skirts that were actually above her ankles. The scandal! 😀 For visiting the sea, she would likely wear washable linen or cotton dresses (salt spray would absolutely ruin silk) – and in the latter part of the era (1890s or so) she would change into a smart bathing suit to enjoy the waters.

Victorians absolutely loved to travel, and just like today it was recommended that they wear layers that were easy to add or remove to suit the weather, and to make washing easier after the dust of being in a carriage or train for hours – just like today when your clothes for flying overseas are likely to focus on comfort and ease of cleaning afterward.

And, just as now, sometimes Victorians simply wanted to stroll around a place and take in the sights. It was very common therefore for women in particular to wear an overdress/wrapper/coat to protect their clothing and allow them to worry less about the local conditions and more about what amazing scenery, people, or shopping there was to see and do!

In the late Edo period in Japan, very similar conditions were occurring as in Victorian England and America, and just like their Western counterparts the Japanese of the period absolutely loved travel. The most common form of travel used pilgrimage to a far-away shrine – or, better yet, a whole series of them! – as an excuse to leave town for months.

Clothing tended to be similar to what was worn in daily life – kimono (or kosode, the precursor to the kimono); usually several of them layered in the current fashion, straw sandals, and a sedge hat (particularly for women) to keep off the sun. Men might wear a type of pants or breeches beneath their hiked up kimono if they were of a laborer class, or if they were walking (to keep their kimono from dragging in the dirt). Whole industries sprang up around the popular tourist routes just like modern tourist traps, complete with overpriced restaurants touting the local specialties, and buskers and itinerant sellers lining the streets hoping to earn the tourists’ dollars. (Or monme, in this case!)

Edo-period vacationers enjoyed activities in town as well – women queued up for rickshaw rides at the shrines in places like Nara, for example. Basically the same energy as Miami rickshaw touts today! Women almost always carried a parasol or umbrella if they didn’t wear a hat, but could wear finer zori rather than straw sandals when in town since they wouldn’t be expected to walk as far, or for as long.

And of course, the place to see and be seen was during hanami – cherry blossom viewing season. Hanami dates back to the 700s in Japan for the elite, but in the Edo period cherry trees were planted en masse at temples, shrines, along riverbanks, and in various public gardens so that they could be enjoyed by all. A particular pattern for kimono became extremely chic in Edo (Tokyo) itself, called edokomon – literally “Edo fine patterns.” It was a repeating pattern that from a distance appeared to be a solid or nearly solid color, but up close revealed itself to be myriad tiny dots or shapes.

I find it wonderful and astonishing that today, we’re no different from our compatriots of the past. We still love to dress up beautifully, travel to distant places, see new things, and spend time with people we love – or make new friends! Whether in the 1820s or the 2020s, we still love to go on vacation. I hope you’ve enjoyed this brief overview of fashion and vacationing in the Victorian and Edo periods, and I look forward to seeing you back here next week on Mukashi no Sewing! ❤

Check out what other members of Bibliotheca had to say about this month’s topic!
Bay Area Kei Goes South
Crimson Reflections Holds a Spring Tea
Dearie Dawn Shares a J-Fashion Friendly Guide to Toronto
Mahou Queen Helps You Travel With Lolita Fashion