Learn About Japanese Crafts & Kogei: Woven Textiles | Part I
1. Nishijin Brocade Woven Silk from Kyoto
Nishijin brocade known as Nishijin ori is silk textile woven in the northwestern Kyoto area. That area covers Kamigyo ward and Kita ward, but it is traditionally called Nishijin. Only fabrics made by oriya fabric makers within Nishijin can be called Nishijin brocade under official rules. The process differs slightly maker to maker. The regulations currently define twelve types of Nishijin brocade.
Nishijin brocade began in the Kofun period, around 250 to 538 CE. Its modern name appeared in the 15th century after the Onin War ended from 1467 to 1477. That war destroyed much of Kyoto. Craftsmen fled and then returned to resume silk weaving in Nishijin. The name Nishijin ori references the western military camp area that hosted artisans after the war.
This fabric is woven from pre‑dyed threads. That makes Nishijin brocade tougher and more resistant to wrinkles than fabric dyed after weaving. Varieties include tsumugi silk woven with fine threads, Honshibo‑ori crepe‑textured weaving, and futsu double‑sided fabric with different patterns on each side. You can also find watermark textiles like sha a thin silk, and ra a coarse silk. Designs range from simple forms to chic patterns. Both Nishijin and Nishijin ori are registered trademarks to protect the traditional weaving method.
The Rich History of Nishijin Brocade in Kyoto
The roots of Nishijin weaving go back to the 5th or 6th century when migrants from Korea and China brought silk farming and weaving techniques to the region. During the Heian period from 794 to 1185 CE, silk weaving became an official occupation. Craftsmen gathered at Oribe‑cho in present-day Kamigyo ward. That area became an early center for Kyoto textile production.
When court silk production declined, artisans opened private workshops near Oribe‑cho. They created silk and twill fabrics known for their high quality. In the Muromachi period from 1336 to 1573 CE, the Otoneri za organization formed. It boosted silk orders and helped expand the fabric industry.
During the Meiji period from 1868 to 1912 CE, the Jacquard loom arrived from Europe. This automated punch card loom allowed craftsmen to weave intricate Nishijin brocade patterns. It raised weaving technique to a new level. Today Nishijin weavers produce both traditional kimono fabrics and modern items like western style kimono, neckties, and interior decoration textiles.
Nishijin Textile Techniques and Fabric Varieties
Nishijin brocade uses yarn dyed before weaving to form vivid patterns. Designers must imagine the final fabric as they plan. They map designs on grid paper called mon ishozu. They mark warp and weft movements using a punched monshi design map. Those punched holes guide the loom.
Weaving starts with twisting threads in sets and adjusting the thickness. That creates the texture that defines Nishijin brocade. Next, the threads are refined to remove yellow protein. After that, they are dyed carefully in sequence. That dyeing affects both color and feel of the final fabric.
Types of Nishijin brocade follow different weaving methods. Tsumugi uses hand‑spun thin silk threads for soft textured obi and casual kimono. Honshibo‑ori weaves crepe textures. Futsu fabric features two distinct sides with varied patterns. Complex techniques like tatenishiki double warp brocade or nukinishiki satin damask arise from combining warps or setting wefts for surface patterns.
Watermark fabrics play a role, too. Sha silk is a light sheer weave. Ra silk shows coarse open texture. These watermark styles contrast with dense patterns. The result can be elegant minimalism or bold design. Registered marks protect and preserve the craft and region.
Evolution of Nishijin Weaving from Tradition to Modern Crafts
Nishijin brocade has endured through the centuries. The name came after Onin War when artisans returned to western Kyoto. The weaving tradition thrived, supplying the imperial court and samurai. As weaving technology evolved, craftsmen preserved ancient methods while adopting new tools.
The Meiji era’s import of the Jacquard loom brought precision and speed. It let artisans expand into new product lines. Now, Nishijin textiles appear in interior decor, neckties, western style kimono, and accessories alongside classic kimono fabrics.
Craftspeople continue to innovate. They merge modern design with centuries‑old weaving. They blend silk with metallic threads or foil for luxury silk brocade. They experiment with modern patterns suited for contemporary use. All while staying true to Nishijin brocade’s high craftsmanship and strict regional standards.
Nishijin Brocade Production Process
Designing the Pattern
The Nishijin brocade process begins with designing. The threads are dyed before weaving. So the designer must imagine the final textile first. When a manufacturer places an order, the designer blends traditional motifs with the requested design. They plan every color and shape before weaving starts.
Design Mapping with Mon Ishozu
Next, the designer draws a detailed map called mon ishozu. They use techniques called mawashi and hatsuri. Mawashi means tracing the design in pencil on grid paper by enlarging the image. Hatsuri is coloring that drawing to match the grid. These grids represent how warp and weft threads combine. They show the colors, the thread types, and other weaving notes. This map guides the entire weaving process.
Pattern Paper Punching
Then they convert the design map into pattern paper called monshi. They punch holes that encode which warp and weft threads rise and fall and how colors align in each cell. The punching often uses a piano machine for precision. Today many workshops also use computer graphics to generate monshi. The result instructs the loom exactly how to weave the fabric.
Twisting the Threads
Next they twist multiple threads together and refine thickness. This step sets the unique Nishijin brocade texture. Threads of varying thickness create depth and tactile interest. Proper twisting ensures the woven silk gains the desired feel and sheen.
Dyeing the Threads
After twisting they refine the threads to remove yellow‑tint proteins. This keeps the silk bright and clean. Then they dye the threads in the planned sequence of colors. That dyeing sequence controls how the final pattern looks and feels. Accurate dyeing is key to Nishijin brocade texture and color clarity.
Reeling the Threads
Once dyed they reel the warp and weft threads onto spools or reels. In traditional methods this was manual. Today most workshops use machines to reel. Proper reeling ensures smooth feed during weaving and helps prevent tangles or tension issues.
Warping and Weft Winding
The next phase is warping and weft winding. They sort thousands of warp threads by length and thread count for the loom. That is warping. Meanwhile they wind weft threads onto bamboo tubes inserted into shuttle pieces. That is weft winding. Each thread must match the design plan exactly to form coherent patterns.
Heddle Preparation
They set the warp threads through the heddles on the Jacquard loom. The heddle is a cord loop that lifts and separates threads. This lets each warp thread follow its region in the pattern. It enables the complex motifs in Nishijin brocade to emerge.
Hand Looming and Final Weaving
Weaving happens next. They use hand looms Jacquard looms and power looms or custom weaving machines. Many workshops now rely on power looms. These can handle detailed designs faster. But hand operated looms remain essential. Especially when weaving gold thread or extremely delicate brocade pieces. The final cloth emerges slowly with care.
2. Yuki Tsumugi Silk
Yuki tsumugi silk is a handmade Japanese silk fabric that comes from the Kinugawa River area, which runs through Ibaraki and Tochigi prefectures. The name "Yuki" comes from a feudal lord during the Kamakura period. Even though it’s seen as a high-end fabric now, it didn’t start out that way. It began as a side job for people working in local silk production.
This silk is best known for how soft, light, and warm it feels. The thread is made by handspinning silk floss, which comes from boiled cocoons. These cocoons are unwound carefully to keep the air in the strands. That’s what gives the fabric its smooth, airy touch. The threads don’t wear out with time. Instead, they age well, becoming even softer and more comfortable over the years. Because of this, Yuki tsumugi silk is one of Japan’s most prized traditional textiles and is often passed down from one generation to the next.
The Origins and Story Behind Yuki Tsumugi Silk
Yuki tsumugi silk has been around since the Nara period, when Ibaraki was still called Hitachi Province. Back then, the fabric was offered as tribute to the Imperial Court and was known as "Ashiginu." It was made from thick, handspun silk threads.
The name changed to Yuki tsumugi in the Kamakura period, and that helped it spread across Japan. During the Edo period, a shogunate governor named Tadatsugu Ina worked to improve its quality and promote it more widely. Around this time, new dyeing methods were introduced, which helped the fabric stand out even more.
In the late Taisho period, a new weaving method called tate yoko kasuri was invented. This technique used both vertical and horizontal thread patterns, instead of just one direction like most woven fabrics. The method was very detailed and required serious skill, especially when working with thousands of threads at once. After World War II, upgrades in technology made it possible to use finer threads and more intricate kasuri patterns. This made the fabric even lighter and more refined than before.
Today, Yuki tsumugi silk stands out for its craftsmanship, comfort, and quality. It's still made with care and tradition, using time-tested methods that keep its history alive in every piece.
How Yuki Tsumugi Silk Is Made
Silk Floss Preparation
Making silk floss takes skill and time. There's an old saying: it takes eight years to learn how to spread the floss and three years to learn how to spin the thread. The process starts by boiling cocoons in water with sodium bicarbonate for two hours. Once they’re soft, they’re gently pulled apart in cool water. To form a single layer of floss, five or six of these sheets are stacked. You need about 250 sheets to make one bolt of Yuki tsumugi silk. That’s seven full units of floss, called hakari.
Spinning the Silk Thread
The next step is hand spinning, called ito tsumugi in Japanese. The artisan stretches out the silk floss and winds it around a bamboo rod with a corn pith inside. One hand pulls the floss, and the other collects the forming thread. This part takes serious experience to master. The thread is gathered in a tub called an oboke. It takes about a week to ten days to collect enough for one hakari.
Spooling the Threads
After spinning, the threads are wound from the oboke tub onto a wooden spool. This might look easy, but getting the speed right takes practice. Even tension is key here.
Winding for the Next Step
Now the threads are wrapped around a reel to make them easier to handle later.
Making the Warp Even
To get even thread lengths, they’re stretched across a warping frame. This sets the size for one or more bolts of fabric.
Laying Out the Design
Yuki tsumugi patterns are first drawn by hand onto special paper. Older patterns were simple, but after the Taisho period, artisans started using bolder splash designs and more detailed images.
Kasuri Binding
This is one of the hardest parts. Kasuri tying, or kasuri kukuri, means binding parts of the thread with cotton string to block the dye. The binding follows the design traced earlier. On average, a single bolt includes 80 to 200 tortoise shell-shaped grids. Each grid takes multiple tie points. So for 80 grids, the threads are tied in 160 places. More grids mean more time. Some bindings take months to finish.
Dyeing the Thread
The threads are dyed using the tataki zome method. This involves tapping them on a wooden board so the dye soaks in. Too much force can over-dye the threads, so the artisan has to keep a steady rhythm and close attention to pressure to get an even color.
Strengthening the Thread
After dyeing, the threads are treated with sizing. This step is like starching. It keeps the threads strong and helps stop fraying. Each artisan mixes their own formula. If it’s too thick, the threads get stiff and hard to weave.
Threading the Reed
The warp threads are threaded through a reed, which is part of the loom. A spatula-like tool helps guide the threads through the metal slots. This step lines everything up before weaving begins.
Wrapping the Warp Thread
Now the warp thread is wrapped around a base thread on the loom. The artisan then weaves the weft, or crosswise thread, into place.
Weaving the Fabric
Weaving is the longest part. The weaver uses a strap around their waist to keep the warp threads tight. The weft threads are placed with the help of the reed, which controls the motion across the loom. This can take from one month up to a full year, depending on the pattern and length.
Checking the Final Fabric
Once the fabric is done, it’s inspected. A specialist dealer, called a shimaya, handles the sale of the finished cloth after confirming its quality.
Removing the Sizing
Before tailoring, the fabric goes through one last step. It’s soaked in warm water to fully remove the sizing left in the thread. This softens the fabric and gets it ready to be turned into a finished garment.
3. Kurume Traditional Resist-Dyed Fabric
Kurume traditional resist-dyed textiles, known in Japanese as Kurume gasuri, are made in and around Kurume City in Fukuoka Prefecture. These fabrics are breathable and feel cool in summer, but they also hold heat well in winter. They’re made from cotton and get softer and more comfortable the more you wear them. The cloth also lasts a long time, which makes it great for everyday clothing.
As weaving and dyeing techniques got better, so did the patterns. Today, you’ll see everything from large bold shapes to small detailed images. Most Kurume gasuri fabric is dyed in deep indigo and decorated with clean, delicate patterns. The result is a textile that’s both sturdy and beautiful. Kurume gasuri is known as one of Japan’s top three resist-dyed cotton fabrics, along with Bingo gasuri and Iyo gasuri. Because this fabric looks and feels better over time, it’s made to last and enjoy for years.
How Kurume Gasuri Began
The story of Kurume gasuri started with a 12-year-old girl named Den Inoue. She lived in Kurume and noticed that washing an indigo-dyed kimono again and again left behind white faded dots on the fabric. That got her attention. She pulled apart some of the threads and saw how the dye had changed. This gave her the idea to create a new kind of cloth using that same effect.
She started tying and dyeing threads on purpose to make those dotted patterns, and people liked what she made. The cloth became known as kasuri. She later figured out how to add small images and decorative designs into the fabric. As her work improved, so did her reputation. By the time she was 38, back in 1827, she had over 1,000 apprentices. More than 400 of them took the craft across Japan and helped spread the Kurume gasuri style everywhere.
Kasuri fabric used to be common among everyday people, especially as kimono material. But when Western clothing became more popular in Japan, the industry started to slow down. Even now, some think kasuri is old-fashioned. Still, others are working to bring it back. They’re using Kurume gasuri to make modern clothes, bags, and other useful items. Some even turn old kasuri kimonos into stylish Western outfits. The hope is to keep the tradition alive by blending it with today’s style.
How Kurume Gasuri Is Made: Step-by-Step Process
Kurume gasuri isn’t just fabric. It’s the result of careful work, time, and traditional skills passed down for generations. Every piece goes through a long process that involves detailed design, thread prep, indigo dyeing, and hand weaving. Here's how it all comes together from start to finish.
Design and Planning
Everything starts with visualizing the final pattern. The artisan sketches the full design on special paper, including details like thread count, reed dent size, and how many warp and weft threads are needed. These early drawings are then adjusted to account for the slight shrinkage that happens later when weft threads are woven.
Measuring and Thread Marking
A thin bamboo stick, about 5 to 6 millimeters thick, is used to mark where the threads will be tied. Patterned thread is added to guide the process. This helps keep the markings clear so the design stays sharp. Once this is done, the correct number of warp threads are prepared, and the weft threads are sorted into neat groups of 20.
Thread Prep and Refining
The threads are boiled to strengthen them and remove any dirt or natural oils. Then they’re bleached with a mix of water, bleaching powder, and baking soda. After bleaching, starch paste is added to hold the threads together during the next steps.
Binding and Dyeing
Now comes the key to the kasuri pattern: thread binding. Warp threads are tied tightly around the bamboo stick. Weft threads are also tied where the pattern has been marked. These bindings block the dye from reaching parts of the thread, creating the signature blurred-edge design.
Indigo dyeing follows. The dye is made by fermenting for a full week or more. Threads are dyed gradually, starting in weak dye vats and working up to stronger ones. After each round, the threads are struck to help the color set. When dyeing is finished, everything is washed to remove leftover dye and lye.
Untangling and Second Wash
Once clean, the threads are quickly untangled while still damp. Then they’re washed again and placed in water to loosen them further. Another layer of starch is applied to hold them together during drying.
Aligning the Pattern and Setting Up
Dyed threads are bundled to match the design. After another round of starching and drying, the threads are set into the reed dent, with two threads placed in each slot. The warps are then reeled into a winding box.
Threading the Heddles and Preparing to Weave
Each pair of threads is pulled from the reed and separated. One thread goes through a heddle, which helps lift and lower threads during weaving. Once all threads are in place, they’re attached to the handloom. Any temporary thread markings are removed, and the dyed threads are carefully separated again.
Final Weaving and Finishing Touches
The weft threads are loaded onto a weft cassette or a bamboo tube. Then the actual weaving begins. It’s all done by hand using a shuttle loom. This part takes real skill to keep the pattern clean and balanced.
When the fabric is woven, it’s desized and dried in the shade. After drying, the width is checked and the fabric is cut to the right size.
Final Inspection
At the end of it all, the finished cloth is reviewed by the Kurume Kasuri Cooperative Association. They check everything to make sure the quality meets the standards that define true Kurume gasuri.
This isn’t fast fashion. It’s slow, thoughtful, and built to last. Each piece carries a long history, shaped by tradition, patience, and precision.
4. Ojiya Chijimi Textile
Ojiya chijimi is a handmade cloth made from ramie, a strong plant fiber in the nettle family. It’s produced in and around Ojiya City, in Niigata Prefecture. Ramie has been used for centuries, but it doesn’t hold up well in dry air. That’s why this snowy region is ideal. The natural humidity from all the snowfall helps prevent the threads from snapping during production.
What makes Ojiya chijimi stand out is the snow bleaching process. After weaving, the fabric is laid out on the snow under the sun. As the snow melts, it releases ozone, which gently whitens the cloth. This method is only possible in areas with steady winter snow, like Ojiya.
Another key feature is the shibo texture. That’s the natural wrinkling or bumpiness created after the tightly spun yarns are relaxed. Ramie helps sweat evaporate fast and dries quickly, so it feels light and cool on the skin. During Japan’s hot, muggy summers, Ojiya chijimi kimono feel crisp and breathable, which is why they’re still popular all across Japan.
The Background of Ojiya Chijimi and Echigo Jofu
Ojiya chijimi is closely tied to another local fabric called Echigo jofu. That textile has roots going back over a thousand years. It's made from similar materials and was used by everyday people around Niigata for centuries. It’s even mentioned in documents stored in the Shosoin Repository, a major archive in Nara that holds ancient Japanese records from the Nara period.
Echigo jofu was seen as a high-end gift item in the past, often given to shoguns and the imperial court. Over time, Ojiya chijimi developed as an upgraded version. The two textiles are similar in how they’re made, and they both rely on skill passed down through generations.
Ojiya chijimi production started around 1670 during the Edo period. A local official named Masatoshi Horijirou launched the craft using knowledge from both Echigo jofu and Akashi chijimi weaving methods. The practice spread through nearby regions and eventually grew into a full industry. At its peak during the Edo era, people were making about 200,000 rolls of it each year.
Women led most of the production work. The skills were passed down within families, usually from mothers to daughters or daughters-in-law. Even though machine weaving began to take over after the Meiji period, the handmade tradition didn’t disappear. The original techniques survived, and craftspeople still produce high-quality ramie fabric in Ojiya today.
How Ojiya Chijimi Is Made
The process of making Ojiya chijimi fabric is long, careful, and completely done by hand. Every step is essential. From planning the design to the final snow bleaching, it takes skill and patience. Here’s how this traditional textile is created.
Designing the Splash Pattern
It all starts with drawing out the design. Ojiya chijimi uses splash patterns, which need to be planned in exact detail. The maker draws a rough version first, then maps it onto graph paper to figure out exactly where each splash will go. The graph helps divide the design into small sections. These are then traced and copied onto thin rulers that match the width of the weft. Each ruler shows a different part of the pattern. Dozens of these rulers are made to complete the full layout.
Making the Threads
The thread comes from ramie plants grown in Showa Village, in Fukushima Prefecture. This tradition moved from Niigata to Fukushima when control of the region changed hands long ago. The ramie stalks are harvested, soaked in water, and stripped of their bark. The fibers are dried, then spun into thread. Warp threads are twisted tightly to give strength, while weft threads are twisted loosely to help create the fabric’s natural wrinkles.
Stretching and Preparing Threads
Once the thread is ready, it’s spread out on large tables. Warp threads are measured, stretched, and aligned by hand. The weft threads are taken from wire spools, then lined up next to each other. Ojiya chijimi is known as yokosougasuri, which means the patterns appear only on the weft, while the warp stays plain.
Marking and Tie-Dyeing the Pattern
Next, the pattern is marked directly onto the threads using black ink and the earlier rulers. Wherever a pattern is planned, the thread is tightly tied with string. This keeps the dye from soaking into those spots and forms the splash design. It’s a method similar to tie-dye, but done with much more precision.
Dyeing the Yarn
Once marked and tied, the threads are dyed by hand. Dye is pressed in with a spatula, then the threads are crumpled and worked over again to make sure the color sets in fully. After that, they’re steamed at 100°C to fix the dye and lock in the color.
Weaving the Fabric
After dyeing, the threads are carefully loaded onto a loom. The warp threads are tied one by one into heddles. The weft threads are wound by hand onto reels and then transferred to tubes used in the weaving process. The weaver follows the pattern closely, checking constantly to make sure everything lines up and the design appears correctly in the cloth.
Finishing the Fabric
The last step is called yumomi, which means washing the fabric in warm water by hand. This brings out the signature crinkled texture. The fabric is also softened by pressing it with the feet, which helps remove glue, dirt, or dye that may still be left. After that, the fabric is spread out on the snow to dry in the sun. As the snow melts, it releases ozone, which naturally whitens the cloth and brings out the depth of the color and pattern. It’s the final touch that gives Ojiya chijimi its unique, clean finish.
5. Hakata Brocade
Hakata brocade, known in Japanese as Hakata ori, is a traditional woven silk fabric made in and around Hakata, in Fukuoka Prefecture. The weaving method came from China and evolved over time into a style that’s now seen as one of Japan’s most refined textiles. Hakata ori stands out for its strength, tight weave, and clear patterns.
The fabric is made using many thin vertical threads called warps. These are pulled tight while thick weft threads push through and raise the warps to the surface. This technique creates detailed patterns and a firm texture. The cloth is thick and durable, which made it a top choice for men's kimono sashes called obi, as well as sashes worn by samurai and sumo wrestlers.
One unique trait of Hakata brocade is the soft rustling sound it makes when tied. This sound, called kinunari, only happens with this fabric. It adds to the sensory experience and is part of why the textile is so admired.
To make Hakata brocade, makers use raw silk, silk threads, Japanese silk twine, and sometimes metallic fiber. They often add silver foil, gold foil, or even lacquered leaf to decorate the fabric. There are several well-known types of Hakata weaving, like Kenjo, Hira Hakata, Kando, So-uke, Mojiri ori, Kasane ori, and Enuki Hakata. Each has its own weaving technique and pattern style, passed down over centuries.
History and Development of Hakata Ori
The story of Hakata brocade goes back to 1241. During the Kamakura period, a Hakata merchant named Yazaemon Mitsuda traveled to China during the Song Dynasty. He came back with Chinese weaving techniques, called Kara ori, and introduced them to his hometown.
By the 1500s, one of his descendants, Hikosaburo Mitsuda, took things further. He studied weaving under the Ming Dynasty and mixed those newer methods with the ones passed down to him. This led to a thick fabric with a raised stripe pattern and Buddhist imagery like willow branches, flower trays, and tokko (a ritual tool with one prong).
In 1600, during the rule of the Kuroda clan, a new five-color pattern was created. Each color symbolized part of the universe. This design was sent as tribute to the Imperial Court and became a major milestone for Hakata brocade.
Things changed during the Edo period, when the number of weavers was limited by law. But during the Meiji era, new economic policies lifted those restrictions. This helped boost the industry, and the Hakata Ori Corporation was formed. That group later became the Hakata Ori Industrial Association, which still helps protect the craft today. It was also around this time that Hakata ori began making sashes for women, expanding beyond its earlier use.
Hakata brocade remains a symbol of careful handcraft, cultural depth, and traditional Japanese design. Every thread tells a piece of history.
How Hakata Ori Is Made
Designing the Pattern
The process starts with the design. Every pattern is planned out based on the texture and colors of the weave. The design is sketched onto graph paper. Each square gets filled in with color to show where each thread will go. This part takes a lot of care and attention to detail. Even the smallest mistake can throw off the pattern. These days, computers help speed up the process, but the precision still relies on a sharp eye.
Dyeing the Threads
Once the colors are set during the design stage, the silk threads get dyed. It begins by washing raw silk in soapy water to bring out its natural shine. After that, the threads are sorted into warp and weft. Each group gets dyed in boiling water mixed with either plant-based or chemical dyes. The dyeing is done in iron pots, one thread bundle at a time. Since silk is sensitive to weather, heat, and moisture, the outcome can change fast. That’s why experienced artisans handle this part. Once the dye sets, the threads are untwisted and smoothed out to make sure everything stays even.
Getting Ready To Weave
Next is setting up the loom. For Hakata ori, the pattern comes from how the warp threads are wrapped and arranged. After the warps are spooled onto a tube, a step called hajitake begins. This is where the threads are placed into the loom one by one, matching the original design exactly.
The setup uses a Jacquard loom, which follows a pattern from punched cards to control how the threads move. Each warp thread is hooked into the loom and connected to heddles, which help lift and lower threads during weaving. Everything must line up perfectly with the original pattern. This part takes time, patience, and a steady hand, especially since the silk threads are delicate and easy to damage.
Weaving the Cloth
The final step is weaving. While modern Hakata ori often uses machines, there’s also a traditional method called uchikaeshi mitsuuchi. In this style, weft threads are pushed tightly into the warp using a shuttle and reed. When done right, this technique gives the cloth a tight, solid texture and a detailed pattern that stands out.
The loom itself needs constant fine-tuning. Temperature and humidity can affect the tension of the threads. A skilled artisan watches all of this closely, adjusting as needed to keep everything precise. Unlike some fabrics that are dyed after weaving, Hakata ori shows its full design as soon as it’s made. That means the finished cloth can be checked for quality right away and then sent out for use.
Every part of making Hakata ori demands skill, patience, and a deep respect for tradition. The final result is a woven silk that’s rich in texture, detailed in design, and made to last.
6. Ushikubi Tsumugi Silk
Ushikubi tsumugi silk is a handwoven silk fabric made in Hakusan City, Ishikawa Prefecture. It was officially recognized as a traditional Japanese craft in 1988. The word "Ushikubi" means "cow’s neck" in Japanese. One of the things that makes this silk stand out is its use of rare double cocoons. These are formed when two silkworms spin a cocoon together. Unlike standard silk threads, these double cocoons are harder to work with, but they create stronger, thicker silk once processed by hand.
The fabric is also known as Kuginuki tsumugi, which means "nail-pulling pongee." This nickname comes from an old story where someone pulled a nail out of wood with a strand of this silk. That’s how strong the thread is. Originally, double cocoons were seen as flawed and hard to reel, but a careful technique was developed to untangle the silk straight from the cocoons. This method led to durable, high-quality cloth with a unique texture.
Ushikubi tsumugi has a smooth feel, solid strength, good airflow, and a soft shine. It’s mainly used for indigo-dyed kasuri kimonos, formal kimono wear, silk sashes, and handmade accessories. More recently, it caught the attention of global designers and appeared at Paris Fashion Week, giving it a place in modern fashion circles outside Japan.
The History of Ushikubi Tsumugi Silk
The roots of Ushikubi tsumugi go back to 1159, during the Heiji Rebellion. After the Minamoto clan lost, one of the defeated samurai’s wives escaped to Ushikubi Village at the foot of Mt. Haku in Ishikawa. She brought weaving knowledge with her and shared it with the local people. This started the area's long history of silk production.
In the Edo period, the land around Mt. Haku became territory of the shogunate. The area gained special protections and its silk trade grew. With more trade routes and a stronger local economy, Ushikubi tsumugi was soon sold all over Japan.
The Meiji period saw a rise in silk demand, along with growth in sericulture and weaving. This helped Ushikubi tsumugi set up a complete system for making and selling the fabric. But by around 1935, production stopped. Fewer people were buying kimonos, and World War II made things worse. Pongee weaving almost vanished. Only a few craftspeople kept the old techniques alive.
After the war, Ishikawa prefecture put effort into bringing the local silk trade back. They restarted mulberry farming and silkworm raising. These efforts brought the Ushikubi tsumugi tradition back from the edge. In 1974, the Tedorigawa Dam project led to moving production out of the original Ushikubi Village to nearby areas. But the craft survived.
Today, Ushikubi tsumugi is valued for its rare silk, handmade process, and deep connection to Japan’s textile heritage. It blends ancient skill with modern appeal, making it one of the finest traditional silks still in use.
The Ushikubi Tsumugi Silk Production Process
The production of Ushikubi tsumugi silk is completely manual, requiring precision at every step. Each part of the process helps build the fabric’s strength, texture, and quality.
Cocoon Selection
Only the best double cocoons are chosen. These are picked out by hand, one by one, by skilled artisans. Any cocoons that won’t reel properly are removed early. This step is key since the strength and quality of the fabric start with the silk itself.
Boiling and Unwinding
The chosen cocoons are boiled to help loosen the filaments. They’re pushed down in hot water using a paddle, then steamed in a special cocoon-boiling machine. Boiling and steaming are done in turns to prep the silk for reeling.
Reeling the Silk
A foot-powered reeling machine pulls a single thread from each cocoon. Reeling from double cocoons takes extra care, since the threads tend to tangle. Reeling is done either from sunk cocoons or ones that float. The finished threads are strong and elastic.
Spooling the Threads
After reeling, the threads are wrapped around wooden tubes. Before the silk dries, the threads are slightly twisted. This twist boosts the thread’s durability and keeps it from losing shape later.
Thread Twisting
A silk twisting machine adds more twist to the thread. The warp threads get about 280 twists per meter. The weft gets 180 twists per meter. After twisting, the thread is wound back onto the wooden frame. This step gives the silk its bounce and texture.
Refining the Raw Silk
Raw silk is boiled again, this time with soap and sodium carbonate. This step cleans off natural residue and any leftover impurities. Warps are boiled for about 70 minutes. Wefts need around 85. Once refined, the silk turns softer and gains a clean, natural shine.
Ito Hataki
Next is a process called ito hataki. It's unique to Ushikubi tsumugi. After twisting and refining, the threads are beaten to bring back their natural wave. This makes the silk breathable, wrinkle-resistant, and soft to the touch.
Dyeing the Silk
Traditionally, the fabric was dyed with indigo from the sukomo plant. But plant-based dyes tend to fade, so today, most dyeing is done with chemical dyes that still use plant-based pigments at their core. Some black lily dyes are still used, but it’s rare.
Thread Sizing
Sizing is when a special liquid is added to the warp threads. This prevents the threads from puffing up or fraying, making it easier to handle them in the next steps.
Spooling for Weaving
Once the silk is cleaned, dyed, and sized, it’s spooled again. A machine coils the thread loosely so it’s easier to manage during weaving.
Setting the Thread Count
Ushikubi tsumugi needs around 1100 to 1200 warp threads. These threads are measured and grouped to match the width and length of a fabric bolt. Warps are tied into sets of 50 and wound around a weaving drum. Depending on the method, it’s either drum-type or frame-type.
Preparing the Loom
To set the loom, a comb-like reed is placed in the frame. This reed helps guide the warp and weft threads into position. The loom must be set just right before weaving starts.
Filling the Shuttle
Weft threads are spooled onto a tube that fits inside a shuttle. The shuttle passes these threads back and forth through the warp threads already set in the loom.
Hand Weaving
The final step is weaving the silk. This is all done by hand using a takahata loom. It takes steady hands and years of experience to do right. Every inch of fabric is shaped by human effort and skill, with no shortcuts.
The entire process, from picking the cocoons to weaving the cloth, shows why Ushikubi tsumugi silk is valued so highly. It's not just fabric. It's a product of deep tradition, careful work, and time.
7. What Is Chichibu Meisen Silk
Chichibu meisen silk is a traditional Japanese fabric made in Chichibu City, located in Saitama Prefecture. It’s a plain-woven silk textile known for being dyed on both sides. This double-sided dyeing method comes from stencil dyeing the threads before weaving. Because of this, the fabric holds up well through multiple washes and can be remade into kimonos several times. That long-lasting quality made it a favorite among regular people who wanted something both practical and beautiful.
This textile uses different types of silk, including raw silk, dupioni raw silk, floss silk, and spun silk made from leftover cocoons and scraps of raw silk. These recycled materials help keep the cost lower, which makes Chichibu meisen more accessible for everyday use. People like it because it’s casual, sturdy, and affordable.
When Chichibu meisen features patterns, the technique used is called hogushi nassen. That means the fabric is dyed after being temporarily basted. During this process, the weaver removes the temporary weft threads, which is why it’s also called hogushi-ori, or "loosen and weave." This weaving method allows the patterns to line up cleanly after the fabric is fully woven.
One thing that really makes Chichibu meisen stand out is its shimmer. The warp threads and weft threads are dyed different colors, so when they’re woven together, the fabric has an iridescent look. When the two thread colors work well together, the shine is even more eye-catching. That color contrast adds a unique finish you can’t get with single-color weaving.
The Origins and History of Chichibu Meisen Silk
The roots of Chichibu meisen silk reach all the way back to Emperor Sujin’s reign, around the first century BCE. Chichibu Hikonomikoto, a regional leader, brought sericulture and weaving skills to the region. Since the mountainous landscape in Chichibu made rice farming difficult, people turned to silk production instead. It became the area’s main craft.
At first, the textile woven in Chichibu was called futo-ori, and it was used mainly for farmers’ everyday clothing. Because of its tough texture, it was also nicknamed Oni-chichibu. Though it was common among farmers, the strong, fine fabric also caught the attention of samurai, who valued its strength and quality.
Over time, futo-ori evolved into what we now know as Chichibu meisen. The fabric kept its roots but took on new qualities through changing techniques. During the Meiji period and into the early Showa era, it hit peak popularity. The turning point came in 1908, when hogushi nassen dyeing was patented. That innovation led to bold, eye-catching patterns that were popular across Japan.
The fabric’s simple plain weave, called hiraori, allows it to be used on both sides. And because it’s so tough, people often reuse it. After a kimono reaches the end of its life, the fabric is repurposed into baby diapers or household cleaning cloths. Even when it’s worn out, Chichibu meisen still has value. That mix of function, tradition, and design is why it continues to be appreciated today.
How Chichibu Meisen Silk Is Made
The process of making Chichibu meisen silk takes time, skill, and close attention to every detail. Each step plays a key role in how the fabric turns out, from setting up the threads to the final weave. Here's how it all comes together.
Step One: Temporary Weaving
It starts with sorting and measuring the white warp threads. The length and thread count must be accurate before anything goes on the loom. At the same time, the weft threads are wound tightly around tubes to get them ready. Once both sets of threads are prepped, the weft threads are pulled through the loom to make a temporary weave. This step doesn’t create the final fabric, but it holds the threads in place so they won’t shift or shrink during dyeing.
Step Two: Stencil Dyeing
Next comes the printing stage, also known as nassen. The white warp threads are stretched across a stand. A skilled craftsman places a stencil frame with a pattern on top and applies the dye using a brush. They move the stencil a little at a time, working carefully to keep the design lined up. If the design has multiple colors, each one is applied in a separate round of dyeing. This method dyes the threads before they’re fully woven, which allows the fabric to show the same color on both sides. The dye itself is a liquid called shinsen, which helps deepen and fix the color into the threads.
Step Three: Steaming the Threads
Once the warp threads are dyed, they go into a steam box, or mushibako, where the heat locks in the color. These steam boxes come in different forms, from simple wooden crates to metal tubes. Steaming keeps the dye stable and prevents fading.
Step Four: Drying
After steaming, the threads are moved to a tumble dryer. This step removes all moisture so the threads are ready for weaving.
Step Five: Rolling Back and Checking
Before weaving begins, the dyed warp threads are rolled back and checked. Any misaligned threads are adjusted to make sure everything is in the right position.
Step Six: Final Weaving
Now the real weaving starts. The weft threads are set up, and the dyed warp threads go back on the loom. As the weaving continues, the weft threads are loosened slightly with each pass. This approach is called hogushi-ori, which means "loosen and weave." It allows the dyed patterns on the warp threads to show clearly across the fabric.
Different tools can be used depending on the setup. Some looms use hand-thrown or treadle-powered flying shuttles to slide the weft threads across. Others use shuttle looms that run automatically and replace the weft thread when it runs out or breaks, so weaving can keep going without stopping.
The shimmer that Chichibu meisen silk is known for comes from how the warp and weft threads interact. When their colors are well chosen, the finished textile shows a glowing, layered shine. That subtle effect depends on both the color match and the precision of the weave. Extra care is taken to keep the threads from snapping or falling out of place. Every part of the process leads to a fabric that’s durable, detailed, and full of depth.
8. Miyako Ramie Textile
Miyako ramie textile, also known as Miyako jofu, is made on Miyakojima island in Okinawa. It's crafted from ramie, a natural plant fiber, and dyed using Ryukyu indigo, which grows only in Okinawa. This fabric is known for its clean kasuri patterns and slick, glossy surface that almost looks waxed. Each thread comes from hand-pulled ramie fibers, making the final weave both breathable and durable. When cared for, the textile can last across three generations.
The ramie plant is part of the nettle family. It grows fast, taking about forty days to reach full height, and can be harvested up to five times in one year. That said, turning ramie into fabric is slow and detailed. From spinning the thread to finishing a full roll of cloth, the entire process can take several years. The warp threads are dyed repeatedly with Ryukyu indigo using a tie-dye technique.
Over a thousand threads (usually at least 1,120) are used to make the warp alone. Weaving takes more than three months, and when it's finally done, you can see delicate tortoise shell or flower patterns appear in crisp white kasuri designs. To finish, the cloth is hammered, which gives it that soft, polished texture.
Miyako ramie is one of the four major traditional fiber textiles in Japan. Its deep blue indigo color and high craftsmanship have earned it recognition as an Important Intangible Cultural Asset.
A Long History of Skill and Survival
Textiles made from ramie have been part of life in Miyakojima since at least the 1400s. One local story tells how the craft became widely known. About four hundred years ago, a ship from the Ryukyu Kingdom, loaded with tribute for China’s Ming dynasty, was hit hard by a storm. The vessel was badly damaged. A man from Miyakojima jumped into the sea and fixed the ship. Everyone on board survived. The Ryukyu king rewarded the man by naming him a funeral priest. His wife, proud of his honor, gave a roll of handmade fabric to the royal court. That gift is believed to be the beginning of Miyako jofu. The fabric was later offered to the Ryukyu government regularly for around two decades.
In 1609, the Satsuma domain (modern-day Kagoshima) took control of the Ryukyu Kingdom. By 1637, they had forced a new tax system that required Miyako women to pay with fabric. They were ordered to produce Miyako ramie and hand it over to the Satsuma authorities. Government officers tightly controlled the quality. The cloth became known as Satsuma jofu and earned a reputation as a high-grade textile.
When that tax was finally lifted, a local textile group stepped in to protect the quality of the fabric. They kept standards high and didn’t let the craft fade. The golden age of Miyako jofu ran from the Taisho era into early Showa, when demand and production were at their peak. But after World War II, when Okinawa came under U.S. control, production started to fall off. Today, people in Okinawa are working hard to keep the tradition alive. They’re focused on passing the skills on to future generations so that this one-of-a-kind craft doesn't disappear.
Step-by-Step Miyako Ramie Textile Production
Harvesting Ramie Fiber
Miyako jofu starts with the ramie plant, which comes from the nettle family. Since ramie is fragile in strong wind, it’s usually grown in sheltered places like backyards. No chemical fertilizer is used. The plant grows fast, reaching about 150 centimeters in just forty days. When it’s ready, it’s cut close to the root. The leaves are stripped off, and the stalk’s outer bark is peeled away. Then, using an abalone shell, specific to this region, the inner stalk is scraped clean, leaving only the fiber. This step is done with care, as it affects the final quality. The best harvest usually happens in early summer, around May or June. After scraping, the fiber is washed in water and dried in the shade.
Spinning Thread by Hand
Next, the fibers are hand-torn into thin strands. Both the warp and weft threads are spun manually, which takes patience and steady hands. The warp threads are especially fine, about the width of human hair. These strands are twisted together, not knotted, to form one strong thread. Then a spinning wheel is used to tighten them further. The weft threads are made the same way, using single twisted strands. It takes over three months to spin enough thread for just one roll of fabric. This slow process is what shapes the final feel of the cloth.
Pattern Planning and Kasuri Binding
Once the threads are ready, the pattern is designed using graph paper. To create kasuri patterns, which are small and detailed, a tie-resist method is used. That means parts of the threads are tightly wrapped with cotton to stop them from absorbing dye. Before tying, the cotton threads are stiffened with starch so they don’t change. When the starch dries, the wrapping begins. Because the patterns are so fine, a machine is used to speed up the tying. Afterward, the threads are washed to remove the starch. This helps the dye stick evenly.
Indigo Dyeing
The dyeing uses Ryukyu indigo grown in Izumi, Okinawa. The indigo is placed in a container, then mixed with caustic soda and either awamori (local liquor) or brown cane sugar. This mix is stirred well and left to ferment for one or two weeks. Each day it’s stirred to keep the process going. As it ferments, foam rises to the top. This is called the "flower of indigo." The threads are dipped into the indigo liquid, then pulled out and exposed to air. This step is repeated about twenty times. With each round, the indigo reacts with oxygen and turns a deeper shade of blue. Once the threads are dark enough, they’re wrung out and sun-dried for several hours.
Setting Threads Through the Reed
After dyeing, the bindings are removed. The threads are washed again, dried, and carefully arranged by hand. Each one is placed through a temporary reed based on the planned pattern. This helps guide the design into place for weaving.
Weaving the Cloth
Once set, the threads are passed through the heddle and then through the final reed. The weaver starts slow. Each line is checked and adjusted with a needle to make sure the kasuri design lands in the right spot. Even skilled weavers can only produce about 20 centimeters of fabric in a single day. The accuracy needed here is intense.
Hammering for the Final Touch
After the fabric is fully woven, it’s washed and dried in the shade. Once dry, starch made from potato scraps is applied to both sides. The cloth is then folded small, placed on a wooden stand, and hammered for about three hours using a 4-kilogram wooden mallet. This pounding step gives the textile its signature smooth and waxy feel. The end result is a strong, breathable fabric with a deep shine and a soft texture that holds up for generations.
9. Shiozawa Tsumugi Silk
Shiozawa tsumugi is a handmade silk fabric from Shiozawa, now part of Minamiuonuma City in Niigata Prefecture. This region sees long, snowy winters and steady rainfall, which make it perfect for traditional weaving. The craft itself grew out of an older textile known as Echigo jofu, a ramie fabric that dates back to the Nara period.
Shiozawa tsumugi began to take shape during the Edo period in the 1600s. It uses raw silk for the warp threads and handspun floss silk for the weft. This mix gives the fabric both shine and texture, blending the smoothness of silk with the raw feel of pongee. Though it falls under the broader category of pongee, Shiozawa tsumugi is lighter and softer than most others.
Patterns, Materials, and Technique
One thing that makes Shiozawa tsumugi stand out is its use of detailed kasuri patterns. These designs are created by tying sections of thread before dyeing, which gives the fabric its distinct look once woven. Some of the common patterns include ka gasuri, a fine T-shape; juji gasuri, which looks like a cross; and kikkou gasuri, which mimics a tortoise shell.
Most Shiozawa tsumugi comes in cool base tones like navy, black, and white. The patterns, often done in black, show clearly against the base, giving the fabric a calm and elegant style. That contrast between dark design and soft background is a big part of its appeal. The mix of raw silk’s natural shine with the texture of handspun floss silk gives it depth and character that other fabrics don’t match.
The Roots of Shiozawa Tsumugi
The weaving tradition in Shiozawa is deep and tied closely to Echigo jofu. This ramie-based fabric shaped many of the region’s other textiles, like Ojiya chijimi, Hon-shiozawa, and later, Shiozawa tsumugi itself. Shiozawa tsumugi has held its own since the 17th century and is now seen as one of the top three tsumugi silks in Japan, along with Yuki tsumugi and Oshima tsumugi.
One key difference between Shiozawa tsumugi and Hon-shiozawa is in how the threads are used. Hon-shiozawa uses raw silk for both warp and weft, then kneads the cloth in hot water to give it a wrinkled feel. Shiozawa tsumugi only uses raw silk in the warp. The weft is floss silk, which changes how the final fabric feels and moves. This subtle difference creates a smoother and lighter cloth with a more balanced texture.
Scarcity and Craftsmanship
The most used design in Shiozawa tsumugi today is the ka gasuri pattern, which makes up around 60 percent of all production. At its peak, many workshops produced Shiozawa tsumugi across the region. But now, fewer makers are left. That drop in production has made this silk even more rare and valuable.
Because of its blend of tradition, skill, and scarcity, Shiozawa tsumugi remains one of Japan’s most respected textiles. It's still made with care, still tied to its snowy roots, and still valued for its quiet strength and beauty.
How Shiozawa Tsumugi Silk Is Made
The production of Shiozawa tsumugi silk is a slow, precise process. Every part of it is done by hand, and every step matters. From the pattern planning to the final weaving, the work demands focus, skill, and consistency.
Pattern Planning and Layout
Before any thread is dyed or woven, the pattern has to be designed. A rough draft or sample is used to figure out where each part of the design should go. That layout is drawn on graph paper to mark out both the length of the threads and the exact spots where the kasuri patterns will land. Since the entire fabric depends on this plan, nothing can move forward without it.
Making the Threads
Shiozawa tsumugi uses a mix of handspun floss silk, raw silk, and dupioni silk. Floss silk is made by boiling silkworm cocoons for several hours. The boiled fibers are pulled out and layered by hand, which takes care and precision. One hand holds the floss open, while the other gently pulls out even strands. How hard the threads are pulled decides the final thickness.
Dupioni silk comes from double cocoons, made by two silkworms spinning together. Because of this, the thread is knotted and uneven, which gives it texture. Several strands are twisted together to make the thickness uniform and strong. Raw silk is used for the warp. It’s selected for strength, then twisted until the thickness is even.
Marking the Thread for Kasuri
For the patterns to show clearly, the threads must be marked before dyeing. This is done using a special ruler. Ink marks are placed on the weft threads that are stretched across a base. Cotton thread is tied tightly around those inked spots to block out the dye. If the binding is too loose, the dye bleeds through and ruins the pattern. So this step has to be done with extra care.
Dyeing the Thread
The dye is applied with a bamboo spatula, brushed right over the marked sections of thread. Once dyed, the threads are steamed at 100 degrees Celsius to lock in the color. After that, they’re hung out to dry. Steaming is key to making sure the dye stays vibrant and doesn't fade easily.
Getting the Threads Ready to Weave
Once the threads are dry, weaving prep starts. The warp threads are rolled tightly onto a paper cylinder, all lined up according to the earlier pattern plan. Every thread goes through the heddle eye and then through the reed on the loom. The reed and heddle move up and down, which lifts and lowers the threads as needed during weaving.
The weft thread gets wound onto small tubes for spinning. The base threads are separated into two types: right twist and left twist, and wound separately. The warp alone can use more than 1,200 threads for just one piece of cloth.
Weaving on a Traditional Loom
Weaving is done on a takahata loom, which has been used since the Edo period. This type of loom is worked with foot pedals. It moves the heddles and the reed up and down to open a space between the threads. The weaver then passes the weft thread back and forth through that space.
Matching the warp and weft kasuri threads so the patterns align takes extreme precision. Any small mistake can throw off the design. That’s why this part of the process takes the most patience and steady hands.
Final Wash and Inspection
When the weaving is done, the fabric is washed to clean off any dirt or leftover starch. Then it goes through a full inspection. Every inch is checked for flaws, stains, or loose weaving. Only if it passes this check is the fabric ready to sell.
This whole process keeps the tradition of Shiozawa tsumugi alive. Every thread is placed with intention, and every pattern is earned through hours of handwork. That’s what gives the fabric its value, rarity, and lasting beauty.
10. Kumejima Tsumugi Silk
Kumejima tsumugi silk is a traditional Japanese textile made on Kumejima Island in Okinawa. This silk dates back to the Muromachi period and is still made using old techniques passed down through generations. The fabric is known for its soft texture and rich, earthy tones.
Each piece is handmade from start to finish. One weaver handles every step. They plan the pattern, gather dye materials, dye the silk threads, and weave the fabric. The threads come from two main sources: pongee thread, called tsumugi ito, or raw hand-pulled silk, known as hiki-ito. Both are made from floss silk that can’t be reeled the usual way. Every strand is spun by hand.
The dyeing process uses plants grown on the island. Weavers either use straight plant dye or mix it with local mud. Natural dyes make a big difference. As the fabric gets washed over time, the color doesn’t fade; it brightens. The texture also improves with each wash. That’s because the plant dye softens as the fabric wears in.
This silk fabric features a special kasuri pattern. Kasuri is a resist dyeing method where certain parts of each thread are tied off so they won’t absorb dye. That creates the design during weaving. This step, called kasurikukuri, has to be done by hand and takes serious focus. It’s a detailed job that needs precision. If the dye bleeds or changes, the pattern won’t line up right in the final cloth.
Everything used in making Kumejima tsumugi silk comes from the island. The plants used for dye are local, and the work is done by hand at every step. Because of this, no two pieces are exactly the same. Each one reflects the weaver’s skill and the island’s natural colors.
The History Behind Kumejima Tsumugi Silk
Kumejima’s silk history started in the 14th century. Records show that silk-making knowledge came to the island from China’s Ming dynasty. A man named Donohiya, who served the Ryukyu royal court, helped introduce sericulture: the farming of silkworms.
By 1511, when the Ryukyu Kingdom began, people on Kumejima had to pay a harsh poll tax. They couldn’t pay in money, so they offered tsumugi silk instead. After the Satsuma domain from Kagoshima invaded the Ryukyu Kingdom in 1609, the pressure grew. The rulers demanded higher-quality fabric.
To meet these demands, the Ryukyu royal court brought in experts. In 1619, they invited Hiromoto Sakamoto from the Echizen region to improve silk farming and floss production. Around the same time, Kagetomo Tomoyose came from Satsuma to teach new dyeing and weaving methods. These changes helped raise the quality of the fabric, which began being sent to Edo, now Tokyo, under the name Ryukyu tsumugi.
People on Kumejima kept weaving this silk to pay their taxes until 1903, when the tax system finally ended. Two years later, around 1905, a business development effort helped the craft grow into a proper industry. That was when Kumejima tsumugi stopped being just a form of payment and became a full-scale traditional craft.
Today, Kumejima tsumugi silk stands out for its natural look, handspun quality, and deep connection to Okinawa’s history. Every piece tells the story of the island, its people, and their centuries-old skill.
How Kumejima Tsumugi Silk Is Made
Spinning the Silk Threads
The process starts with boiling silkworm cocoons in an alkaline solution to soften them. After that, the threads are gently pulled out to form the weft, which is the crosswise thread used in weaving. These threads are then twisted and wound onto a small tube using a simple silk reeling machine called a zaguriki.
The warp thread, which runs lengthwise, comes from waste cocoons. These are soaked in warm water and turned by hand to loosen the silk. The raw silk is pulled out, lightly twisted by hand, and wound onto tubes like the weft thread. Every part of this step is done by hand with care, using silk that can’t be reeled the usual way.
Designing the Patterns
Patterns are based on old reference materials, including design maps passed down from the Ryukyu royal court. Many designs are inspired by the island’s natural surroundings; things like plants, birds, and ocean shapes. These designs are turned into detailed maps that guide the weaver during the entire process.
Tying the Kasuri Pattern
Kumejima tsumugi silk uses a traditional kasuri dyeing technique. This means certain sections of the thread are tied off so they don’t absorb dye. To begin, the warp threads are stiffened with starch and wrapped around a frame made of bamboo or wood. The threads are then cut to the right length and grouped by the number needed for weaving.
Next, the areas that should stay undyed are marked using charcoal. These sections are wrapped in plastic and tied tightly with cotton thread. This step has to be exact. If the ties are too loose, dye seeps in and the design gets blurry. If the ties are too tight, the lines come out too sharp, which can ruin the soft cross-pattern known as kasuri ashi. This is one of the most important steps in the process. It takes patience, steady hands, and sharp eyes.
Creating Standard Threads for Kasuri
To line up the design correctly, white cotton threads are laid out on a pattern stand. The design is drawn over them with ink. These marked threads act as guides for where the kasuri ties should go. The weft threads are also measured and matched to these guides. Then, the standard threads are placed along the warp threads, and the same tie markings are applied by hand in the right spots.
Dyeing the Threads
Dyeing begins around September, when the weather cools and the sun weakens. That helps control how the plant dye reacts with the silk. All the dyes used are made from plants grown naturally on Kumejima Island. The colors are earthy and deep: reddish black, silvery gray, olive green, warm yellow, and reddish brown. The final color depends on the type of plant and the fixing agent, known as a mordant. The mordant helps the dye bind to the silk and stay vibrant.
The plant kuru, which is related to Japanese yam, is used in one step. It gets chopped and boiled for several hours. Then the threads are soaked in this hot liquid and laid out to dry. This gets done four to five times a day for ten days straight. After that, the threads are dyed again using another plant called Indian hawthorn. This process takes fourteen days, with six to seven dye cycles each day. If the color needs to deepen, the steps are repeated until the silk turns a rich dark brown.
Each stage in this process is slow, deliberate, and fully done by hand. That’s what gives Kumejima tsumugi its texture, color, and character. The finished silk carries the work of many hours, many days, and many careful decisions made by skilled hands.
Thread Setup and Temporary Reed Fitting
The process moves on to preparing the warp threads. These threads are passed through a tool shaped like a comb to help space them evenly. After that, the base threads are starched and reeled onto a frame made of wood or bamboo. The threads are sorted by length and amount needed for weaving. They’re then combed through and wound tight to keep them in place.
Unbinding and Thread Stretching
Next, the cotton ties used during the kasuri dyeing step are carefully removed from the warp threads. These threads are starched again and stretched out to make them strong and even. At the same time, the weft threads are separated one by one and wound onto small tubes. These are the threads that will move across the fabric during weaving. The base threads hold everything in place when the loom is set up.
Weaving on the Wooden Loom
Once the threads are ready, the weaving starts. The warp threads are guided between the base threads and then threaded through a tool called a reed, which helps keep them aligned. Each thread is pulled one at a time along a guide tool known as an aze, which works with two heddles to keep the threads in position. Two warp threads go through each opening in the reed. Then the weft threads are also separated and wound with the base threads onto a wheel that prepares them for the shuttle.
The shuttle is the tool that carries the weft threads back and forth through the warp. The weaver tosses the shuttle, pulls it through the warp threads, and draws it toward themselves to lock the threads together. This back-and-forth process continues until the fabric is fully woven. The work is done on a hand-operated wooden loom. On average, it takes about a month to complete one full roll of Kumejima tsumugi fabric.
Finishing with Hammering and Sun-Drying
Once the weaving is finished, the cloth is folded into a screen shape and soaked in lukewarm water at around 30 degrees Celsius. Then it’s laid out to dry under the sun. While still slightly damp, the fabric is folded again the same way.
This folded fabric is wrapped in cotton and hammered with a large wooden mallet called a kinuta. The mallet weighs close to 10 pounds and takes two people to use. The cloth is hammered for about twenty to thirty minutes. This step boosts the shine and smooth texture that Kumejima tsumugi silk is known for. After that, the cloth is dried again in the sun. Finally, the folds are smoothed out and the fabric is complete.
This long, careful process is what gives Kumejima tsumugi its soft feel, deep color, and durable quality. Every step, from spinning the threads to hammering the cloth, is done by hand with skill and patience. The result is a silk textile that reflects centuries of Okinawan tradition and expert craftsmanship.
11. Omi Jofu Ramie Cloth
Omi jofu is a traditional Japanese textile made in the area around Koto, a town in Shiga Prefecture near Lake Biwa. It’s made from handwoven ramie threads. This cloth is known for its crisp texture and detailed kasuri patterns, also called ikat. The patterns are subtle and stylish, and the fabric feels cool and smooth against the skin, which makes it perfect for summer kimono.
The ramie used in Omi jofu is unbleached and processed by hand. The plant fibers are shredded, twisted, and joined together to form thread. It’s slow and precise work. The weft is made entirely from this kind of thread, and the way the fabric is woven requires close attention to both the warp and weft to keep everything tight and even.
There are three main kasuri techniques used in this cloth. Tateito gasuri involves stencil dyeing, where tracing paper is used to dye vertical threads before weaving. Yokoito gasuri does the same for horizontal threads. Tateyoko heiyo gasuri uses both directions and involves a comb-like tool to press the dye into the threads. This technique is called Kushioshi nassen, or comb press dyeing, and gives the fabric its clean, balanced look.
Where Omi Jofu Comes From and How It Evolved
The Koto area sits on the eastern side of Lake Biwa. It's surrounded by rivers and stays humid most of the year, which makes it a good place to grow ramie. This plant has been cultivated here since the Kamakura period. The knowledge to make ramie cloth came from Kyoto craftsmen who passed their methods down over generations.
Omi jofu gained recognition across Japan thanks to the efforts of local merchants. During the Edo period, production of this cloth grew into a strong local trade, supported by the Hikone domain, which ruled the region at the time.
Ramie from the northeastern parts of Japan was also brought into the area by merchants. This new material helped shape and improve the craft. Around the late 1700s, new dyeing methods were created. One was itajime, where patterns are pressed and dyed onto threads using carved wooden boards. The other was the comb press technique, still used in Omi jofu today.
In the late Meiji period, artisans started using spun ramie threads, and stencil dyeing came into use in the early Showa period. The itajime method slowly faded out after the Taisho era, but the legacy remains.
Omi jofu has been made for over 700 years. It’s still seen as one of the finest traditional ramie fabrics in Japan, with each piece carrying centuries of craftsmanship and quiet beauty.
How Omi Jofu Ramie Cloth Is Made
Planning the Pattern
The process starts with the design. Every thread has a place and a color. A stencil is made for each color in the design. So if a pattern has five colors, there are five different stencils. These stencils must line up perfectly where they meet, or the design won’t look right. When both warp and weft threads are used to form the ikat patterns, the design must show exactly where and how wide each dyed section will be. To make sure everything matches, a special ruler made from cardboard is created, with accurate marks drawn to guide the dyeing.
Dyeing the Threads
The most common method is stencil dyeing. In this, the weft threads are wrapped around a metal frame. The stencil is placed on top of the threads. Dye is applied with a spatula, covering only the exposed parts. The color must blend smoothly from one stencil sheet to the next. After dyeing, the threads are steamed for about ten minutes to set the color, then washed in water and left to dry.
There’s also comb-press dyeing. This method uses both warp and weft threads to form the pattern. First, threads are hung from a frame, then marked with ink using the cardboard ruler. Next, a curved comb-like tool made from wood or brass is used to press dye onto the threads. Different comb sizes are chosen based on the design. The result is a bold, clear ikat pattern with less strain on the threads since there's no need to tie them. For hemp threads, the dye is mixed with just the right amount of glue to prevent the color from bleeding.
Sorting the Threads
After dyeing, the weft threads are separated and re-wound based on the pattern. They’re wrapped into a skein, then rewound onto a reel, and then again onto small tubes. Warp threads are split into plain and patterned groups. They’re then laid out on a stand to line up the patterns. A second adjustment follows to get the threads ready for the loom’s reed.
Warping the Loom
Warp threads are sorted by how many are needed and how long they must be. Using a wooden hook, each thread is passed through the reed and spaced to the right width. After that, each thread is pulled through a looped cord called a heddle. This sets up the path for the shuttle, which will carry the weft thread through during weaving.
Weaving the Cloth
Once everything is in place, the weaving begins. A Takahata loom is used. Ramie threads are more fragile than silk, so the weaver must work carefully to avoid breaking them. The ikat patterns also need to line up exactly, which slows down the process even more.
If a textured finish is wanted, the fabric goes through a final kneading step that gives it that wrinkled look. With that, the Omi jofu cloth is finished. Each step takes skill, patience, and attention to every tiny detail.
12. Ryukyu Kasuri Textile
Ryukyu kasuri is a traditional Okinawan textile made using a resist-dyeing method. It's mostly woven from silk and dyed with plant-based or synthetic dyes. The technique creates bold patterns by tying sections of thread before dyeing, so only parts of the fabric absorb color. This creates sharp, detailed designs.
These fabrics come in hundreds of different patterns. Most are inspired by Okinawa’s plants, animals, and natural scenery. Some designs are based on history, others reflect modern ideas. Summer kimono made from this cloth are called kabe jofu. The most common use for Ryukyu kasuri is kimono, but the fabric is also used for accessories and home goods.
The History of Ryukyu Kasuri
Ryukyu kasuri started during the time of the Ryukyu Kingdom. In the 14th and 15th centuries, the kingdom traded with China and Southeast Asia. These connections brought in new ideas for weaving and dyeing. Ryukyu kasuri was first created as a tribute textile offered to the kingdom’s royal court.
Painters who worked at Shuri Castle, the royal palace, made design books filled with patterns called Miezu-cho. These books helped craftsmen come up with new looks while still keeping to traditional styles. Over time, the weaving and dyeing process was refined, and the designs became more detailed and varied.
This fabric is still made by hand using the same techniques passed down for generations. The weft thread runs sideways, the warp runs lengthwise, and both must be tied in precise spots before dyeing. This step-by-step process takes time. A skilled weaver can only make one or two meters of cloth per day. Each finished piece reflects the patience and care of the artisan.
The Rise, Fall, and Revival of Ryukyu Kasuri
In the Meiji period, Ryukyu kasuri became a commercial product and was sold across Japan. During the Taisho and early Showa eras, Okinawa invested in training new craftsmen. As skilled workers moved around and private factories were built, the local textile industry grew fast. The region became known for its high-quality kasuri production.
But everything changed during World War II. Okinawa was hit hard. Many artisans were killed. Workshops were destroyed. Supplies were cut off. The entire production of Ryukyu kasuri came to a stop.
After the war, makers brought the textile back to life. They used the old methods but added new ideas. Today, Ryukyu kasuri is known for its rich colors and wide range of designs. The patterns still honor its past, but now they’re used for both fashion and interior items, making this Okinawan craft part of everyday life again.
How Ryukyu Kasuri Is Made: Step-by-Step Process
The production of Ryukyu kasuri is detailed and takes time. Making just one bolt of cloth usually takes about a month. The entire process has around sixteen stages, each handled by a different specialist. Every step requires skill, patience, and steady hands.
Designing and Planning the Weaving
It starts with a design. Craftsmen either adjust old kasuri patterns or mix several together. These patterns guide the rest of the process. Once the plan is ready, the fabric is tied using thread. Then the weaving begins. A technique called ezushiki is used during dyeing to make things easier for the weaver later on.
Warping the Threads
Next, the right lengths of warp and weft threads are measured out. These threads form the base of the cloth. Shrinkage is taken into account during this step so the final size stays accurate.
Tying the Threads
Kasuri tying is done by hand. Cotton threads are tied tightly around the silk threads in spots that should stay undyed. This is what creates the pattern. Both warp and weft threads are tied based on the design. Then they are pulled and stretched evenly. This part of the process is physical and takes effort. Once tied, the threads are starched to keep them in place.
Dyeing the Threads
The glue is washed off before dyeing starts. Natural dyes are made from local plants like China root, yeddo hawthorn, and Ryukyu indigo. Plant dyes go into vats. For synthetic dyes, machines are used. Once dyed, the threads are starched again and stretched out to dry.
Untying and Aligning
After dyeing, the tied threads are carefully untied. The patterns begin to show at this point. The threads are stretched and lined up to match the original design.
Reed Threading
Now, the dyed threads are arranged with the base threads. These threads go through narrow gaps in reeds. This step helps fix the threads in place and tighten the weave during production.
Winding the Threads
To keep the threads from getting tangled or loose, they are wound onto wooden beams. This includes the wefts, warps, and dyed threads. This step used to take longer, but with powered winding tools, it moves faster now.
Making the Heddles
Unlike modern weaving, Ryukyu kasuri doesn’t use pre-made heddles. Each heddle is made by hand. Craftsmen pick up yarns one by one and attach split bamboo sticks with string to hold the warps. Heddles lift and lower the warps, creating space for the weft thread to pass through.
Marking the Guide Yarns
A design sheet helps set up guide yarns. These are used to mark the weft threads, guiding the weaving later. One feature of Ryukyu kasuri is that each artisan builds their own pattern, often inspired by the Miezu-cho, the old book of designs. After marking, the threads are dyed, aligned, and wound onto tubes with a spinning wheel.
Final Weaving
Trained weavers sit at wooden looms and begin the final step. By matching the dyed wefts to the pattern, they weave the fabric with care. After the weaving is done, the cloth is washed, steamed, and left to dry. This smooths out the width and finishes the fabric.
Each bolt of Ryukyu kasuri carries the weight of tradition, made from raw threads by the hands of skilled craftsmen using time-honored tools and methods.
13. Kiryu Brocade
Kiryu brocade, known in Japan as Kiryu ori, is a traditional silk fabric made in Kiryu City, located in Gunma Prefecture. This area has long been known for its rich natural setting, with a climate and terrain that’s ideal for silk production. Thanks to that, Kiryu has built a strong history in textile manufacturing.
The city is so closely tied to silk weaving that it's featured in Jomo karuta, a local card game that highlights historical places and traditions in Gunma. One of the cards calls out Kiryu for its importance in textile craftsmanship.
The Techniques Behind Kiryu Ori
Kiryu brocade uses seven main weaving methods. These include silk crepe called Omeshi ori, horizontal brocade known as Yokonishiki ori, vertical brocade called Tatenishiki ori, an airy weave known as Futsu ori, raised pattern weaving called Ukitate ori, a vertical splash-pattern style known as Tatekasurimon ori, and Mojiri ori, which creates a layered texture. These techniques give the fabric a soft, elegant feel, which is why it’s often used for upscale kimonos and decorative accessories.
The Rise of Kiryu as a Textile Hub
The phrase “Nishijin in the west, Kiryu in the east” reflects how Kiryu brocade stands on equal footing with Nishijin brocade, a well-known Kyoto textile. Both styles have been crafted for over a thousand years. Kiryu’s importance in weaving goes back to at least the year 714, when written records describe a local fabric called Ki ashiginu being offered to the Imperial Court.
One popular local legend explains how weaving became part of Kiryu’s identity. A man from Yamada, now part of Kiryu, was working at the Imperial Court. There, he fell in love with Princess Shirataki. After gaining permission to marry her, he brought her back to his hometown. She was well-versed in silk farming and weaving, and she began teaching the people in Kiryu. Her influence helped the city become a major player in silk production.
Over time, Kiryu brocade became popular across Japan. It was even found among the belongings of famous warlords like Yoshisada Nitta and Takauji Ashikaga.
From Local Craft to Industrial Leader
Kiryu’s textile industry picked up more speed during the Edo period. But it was in 1887, with the founding of Nihon Orimono Corporation, that the craft moved into industrial production. This helped Kiryu brocade gain a strong foothold in Japan’s modern weaving industry. In 1977, Kiryu ori was officially named a traditional Japanese craft, securing its place as one of the country’s most respected silk textiles.
How Kiryu Brocade Is Made
Thread Making
The process starts with silk threads. The threads used for the warp, which run lengthwise, are different from the ones used for the weft, which run across. Each type is chosen based on how it needs to perform during weaving.
Dyeing the Silk
First, the silk is boiled to get rid of dirt and leftover proteins. This step is called refining. Once clean, the threads are dyed in colors that match the final design. For the weft threads, which are used in larger amounts, a sizing liquid is added to keep the twist tight through the rest of the work.
Twisting the Threads
The next step is called nenshi, where very fine silk threads are twisted to make them stronger. A traditional twisting machine spins them with up to two thousand turns per meter. After twisting, the threads are reeled so they’re ready for warping and spooling.
Warping and Spooling
Warping is where the thread lengths are measured to fit the fabric size. Spooling means wrapping the weft threads around a wooden spindle. This can be done by hand or with machines, depending on the workshop.
Designing and Punch Card Creation
Now, the fabric design is laid out. Artisans trace the pattern on graph paper and punch holes in special paper sheets to control how the threads will be lifted and lowered. These days, most of this is done on a computer. The design gets turned into digital data and sent directly to the loom. This tech allows more complex patterns and greater freedom in design.
Setting Up the Jacquard Loom
The Jacquard loom is the machine that weaves Kiryu brocade. It was invented in France in 1806 and brought to Kiryu in 1886. The loom reads the punched design data or digital file and controls how the warp threads move up and down using a heddle. This creates the pattern in the fabric by choosing which threads show at each point.
Weaving the Brocade
Once everything is set, weaving begins. Kiryu brocade always uses pre-dyed threads. The Jacquard loom allows for very detailed and varied patterns, but all follow one of the seven traditional weaving techniques. Once woven, each piece is checked carefully to make sure the fabric meets quality standards.
Adding Texture
After weaving, the fabric goes into boiling water again. This removes any glue from the weft threads and brings out the natural crepe-like surface, called shibo. It gives the fabric a soft, textured feel.
Finishing the Fabric
To smooth out any leftover wrinkles, the fabric is tapped with a wooden mallet. This step also adds a light, uneven finish that gives Kiryu brocade its unique look. The fabric is then inspected one last time. Any flaws or stains are fixed. After passing this final check, the brocade gets its official authenticity seal, showing it's a certified traditional craft.
Some pieces are so detailed that they look like paintings on fabric. These works show the skill of the artisans behind every brocade and continue to draw attention from new admirers today.
14. Murayama Oshima Tsumugi Silk
Murayama oshima tsumugi is a traditional silk fabric made in the Musashi Murayama area of western Tokyo. It's crafted from handspun threads pulled from dupioni silk. The fabric is known for its kasuri patterns, which are carefully woven into both the warp and the weft threads. This technique creates a subtle, blurred look in the design. It shares some traits with Oshima tsumugi, a well-known silk textile from Amami Oshima in Kagoshima prefecture.
Murayama oshima tsumugi evolved from a mix of two older local textiles. One was Murayama kon gasuri, a cotton fabric dyed with fermented indigo. The other was Sunagawa futo-ori, a silk fabric. These were combined to create a new kind of silk that holds on to the best parts of both: the rustic charm of kasuri and the smooth shine of silk.
How the Dyeing Process Works
The dyeing method used for this silk is precise and detailed. Craftspeople use wooden boards carved with grooved patterns. The silk threads are placed between the boards and held in place with bolts. Dye is poured over the boards, and it seeps into the grooves. Only the threads in the carved areas absorb the color. The rest stay white.
If a pattern needs more than one color, a rub-and-print method is used. This adds layers of color without blending them. Once dyed, the threads are sorted by pattern and then woven. The result is a fabric with a clean yet soft look. It keeps the kasuri pattern’s slightly faded edges while showing off silk’s natural shine. The final cloth feels light and smooth on the skin.
The History of Murayama Oshima Tsumugi
Textile work in the Musashino Plateau near the Sayama Hills dates back to the Nara period. Striped cotton fabrics were already being made by the late 1600s. Around 1800, Murayama kon gasuri began to appear, and it kept evolving through the 1800s. Then, during the Meiji period, silk weaving took off with Sunagawa futo-ori.
In 1919, advanced techniques came in from Isezaki in Gunma, which was a top area for textiles at the time. Two methods were especially important: itajime senshoku, which uses pressure from wooden boards to dye thread, and tatemaki, a weaving technique. These skills were combined with local traditions to shape Murayama oshima tsumugi into what it is today.
The fabric became popular after World War II as everyday clothing. But like many traditional crafts, its production dropped in the years that followed. In 1967, the Tokyo government officially recognized it as an Intangible Folk Cultural Property. Thanks to that, the methods and craftsmanship continue to be protected and passed down today.
How Murayama Oshima Tsumugi Silk Is Made
The process of making Murayama oshima tsumugi silk is long, detailed, and entirely done by hand. It takes experience and care to get every part right. Here's how it’s done from start to finish, using traditional kasuri dyeing methods and time-tested weaving techniques.
Making the Wooden Boards
The dyeing method used is called itajime senshoku, which means dyeing with wooden boards. These boards are carved to shape the kasuri patterns. They’re made from Japanese birch trees that are at least 70 years old, sometimes even a full century. A single fabric run can need about 150 boards, but large or complex patterns need more.
Each board is hand-carved with grooves that match the intended design. When stacked together and tightly fastened, dye flows only into the carved areas. This method controls exactly which parts of the silk threads absorb the color, keeping the pattern sharp and even.
Refining the Threads
Before dyeing, the silk threads need to be cleaned and prepped. They’re boiled in water to strip off any glue or dirt. This also brings out the raw silk’s shine and improves the texture. After boiling, the threads are washed thoroughly and then dried. This step is key to giving the final textile its smooth surface and natural luster.
Base Dyeing with Natural Colors
Next, the base threads are dyed with plant-based dyes. One common dye is hematin, taken from the heartwood of logwood. The threads are soaked slowly so the dye soaks deep into the fibers. After the color sets, the threads are rinsed again in clean water. This gives the threads a rich, even base color.
Preparing the Threads for Weaving
Both warp and weft threads are sorted based on how many are needed and how long they should be. Pattern size affects how the threads are measured. The threads are divided into four types based on thickness and firmness, which helps create the right balance in the final weave.
Setting Threads on the Boards
Now the threads are wound around the carved wooden boards. This part is crucial. The warp threads must be wrapped evenly across the boards without gaps or overlap. Weft threads are laid out flat between the boards in alternating layers. This setup controls how cleanly the dye applies and how well the pattern comes through later.
Dyeing the Threads with the Boards
The boards, with threads wrapped and layered between them, are bolted together with strong pressure, usually between 10 to 15 tons per square meter. Dye is then poured over the whole thing. It seeps into the carved grooves, soaking only certain parts of the threads. The rest stays untouched. This step has to be done perfectly. If anything changes, the entire pattern can be ruined. It takes a trained eye and steady hands to do this right.
Adding More Colors by Rubbing and Printing
If the pattern calls for more than one color, those colors are added after the first dye. The dyed threads are bundled and sorted by pattern section. Ties are used to protect parts of the threads so that the new colors don’t bleed into the wrong areas.
Using tools made of bamboo or wood wrapped in cotton thread, dye is rubbed into the selected parts of the silk. The threads are placed between two spatulas, then steamed in a box to set the new colors. This keeps the dyes from fading or running later.
Final Thread Winding and Pattern Setup
Once the dyeing is done, the threads are arranged to match the full pattern. Warp threads are threaded through the loom reed, lined up with the base threads, and adjusted to keep the kasuri design in place. This step takes focus. Every thread has to be in the right spot, or the whole pattern will change. Horizontal pattern lines must also match up exactly.
Weaving the Silk
Now the weaving starts. The warp and weft threads are carefully woven to form the final kasuri pattern. Weaving a full kimono-length piece usually takes seven to ten days, even for skilled craftspeople. After weaving, the fabric goes through a final inspection to make sure the design is clean and the quality meets the standard.
This entire process is what gives Murayama oshima tsumugi silk its refined patterns, its lightweight texture, and its timeless look. Every step is slow, exact, and fully handmade. That’s why this silk remains one of the most respected traditional fabrics in Japan.
15. Yumihama Gasuri
Yumihama gasuri is a traditional resist-dyed cotton fabric made near Sakaiminato in Tottori Prefecture. The name comes from Yumigahama, a long curved shoreline that stretches between Yonago and Sakaiminato. The fabric is woven using kasuri threads, which are dyed before weaving to form simple, clean patterns. The base color is deep navy, and the white parts of the pattern often carry a soft blue tint.
This fabric was a go-to choice for local farmers. It was tough, practical, and easy to wash. The design was plain and useful, not showy. That made it perfect for everyday clothes in a rural setting. Over time, though, people beyond the farms started using it. Now, you’ll see Yumihama gasuri used in things like bags, coin purses, tablecloths, and coasters. It's still functional, but more people see it as stylish and traditional too.
How Yumihama Gasuri Began
The story of Yumihama gasuri starts in 1751, when kasuri weaving became well-known across the San’in region. This includes what’s now Tottori, Shimane, and northern Yamaguchi. Several types of kasuri came from this area, like Hirose gasuri and Kurayoshi gasuri. But Yumihama gasuri stood out. It was the most widely used, especially by farmers and working-class families.
The craft was actually started by farmers' wives. They were already weaving plain cotton fabric, and they began adding patterns to make better clothes and household goods. They made it for their families first, but it became a side business too. They’d use it for daily workwear, best outfits, and futon covers. The cloth was made to last, and that reputation stuck.
Yumihama gasuri reached its highest production levels between the Edo and Taisho periods. At one point, Tottori became the third-largest kasuri producer in Japan. The demand was high, and the quality was respected. In 1975, Yumihama gasuri was officially named an intangible cultural asset. Since then, workshops and groups around Japan have stepped up to keep the tradition alive and to make sure this fabric keeps its place in everyday life.
How Yumihama Gasuri Is Made
The process of making Yumihama gasuri is detailed and hands-on from start to finish. Each step takes skill, and most of it can't be done right without years of experience.
Sorting and Spinning the Threads
The first step is sorting the weft threads. These are the threads that run across the fabric. Artisans combine a set number of weft threads with a base thread to match the exact size and strength needed. These threads come from cotton and are spun by hand with a spinning wheel. The way the cotton is spun affects the thickness and texture, so it takes a trained hand to get it right.
Planning the Pattern
Next comes the design. A full-size version of the pattern is drawn on paper. This has to be done with total accuracy. These designs often carry deeper meanings. Some stand for health or good harvests, while others reflect local traditions. This step locks in the look and message of the final piece.
Creating the Paper Pattern
If many pieces are going to use the same design, artisans make a reusable pattern out of tough, tanned paper. This saves time and helps keep the pattern consistent across different batches.
Setting Up the Foundation Threads
Before dyeing, the base threads must be prepared. These are stretched and fixed tightly to a frame. If the threads change or sag, the final design will blur or come out uneven. Getting this part right is crucial. It keeps the final fabric crisp and clear.
Winding the Threads for Dyeing
The threads are then wrapped around a drafting table. They need to be wound evenly across the entire width of the design. This isn't something just anyone can do. Even pressure and spacing are key. One mistake here can throw off the whole pattern.
Marking the Threads with Ink
Using the paper pattern, artisans mark the threads with ink to show exactly where to tie the thread before dyeing. These marks guide the next steps.
Tying the Threads
Wherever the ink marks land, the threads get tied tightly. These tied sections resist the dye and stay white. This is what creates the pattern during dyeing.
Dyeing with Indigo
Now the threads are ready to be dyed. Yumihama gasuri is known for its deep blue color, which comes from indigo. The dye is either made by mixing fermented indigo with chemicals or blending chemical dye with lime. The mix used depends on the effect the maker wants. This part gives the fabric its signature tone and texture.
Untying and Washing
Once the dyeing is done, the tied parts get removed. This reveals the undyed sections of thread that form the pattern. The threads are then washed and dried to clean off any leftover dye or dirt.
Sorting the Threads Again
After cleaning, the weft threads are sorted and wrapped around a frame, ready to be measured for weaving.
Final Thread Prep
Last, the threads are measured and cut to the right length for weaving. The artisan carefully winds them, getting everything in place. Now the weaver can start putting it all together using both the weft and warp threads to form the full textile.
Each of these steps keeps the tradition of Yumihama gasuri alive. Every stage matters. The fabric you see at the end is the result of slow, steady, expert work.
16. Chibana Hanaori Textile
Chibana hanaori is a traditional woven fabric made in Chibana, a town in Okinawa City on Okinawa Island. It stands out for mixing floral motifs with repeated geometric patterns. These repeating designs are known as mon orimono, and they’re believed to have come from South Asia through trade centuries ago.
There are two main types of Chibana hanaori. One is tate uki hanaori, which has patterns running along the fabric vertically. The other is nui-tori hanaori, where the woven patterns look like embroidery. Most of the time, the fabric is made from cotton. In the past, silk and wool were sometimes used too.
Usually, kimono fabric sticks with one pattern all the way through. But with Chibana hanaori, it wasn’t unusual to see different patterns at the start and end of the cloth. During the Ryukyu Kingdom era, from the early 1400s to 1879, this textile wasn’t taxed like others. That gave weavers more freedom to experiment with designs, even though many other handmade fabrics were used as tax gifts to the government. Chibana hanaori, instead, was mostly reserved for sacred rituals and ceremonies.
The History and Return of Chibana Hanaori
No one knows exactly when or where Chibana hanaori started, but most agree it began near what is now Okinawa City, around the 1700s. During that time, the Ryukyu Kingdom had strong trade ties with China and several South Asian countries. The influence of those trade routes shows up in the fabric’s style. Since this cloth wasn’t handed over to the royal court, weavers had more freedom to create designs that fit local traditions and rituals.
Chibana hanaori was often worn at events meant to bring good harvests, like Umaharashi, a local horse race, or Usudeku, where women would perform traditional dances. These fabrics weren’t just decorative. They held deep meaning and were tied to prayers for prosperity and good fortune.
But once the Meiji period began in 1868, interest in Chibana hanaori started to fade. And when World War II hit, the entire area was devastated. The war destroyed nearly everything, including the tools and skills needed to make this fabric. For decades, it vanished completely.
Then in 1989, Chibana hanaori was brought back for the first time in over a century. Today, the Okinawan government supports the craft to keep it alive. Modern weavers now create Chibana hanaori not just for traditional kimonos but also for items like men’s neckties and other accessories. The patterns remain bold and intricate, with every piece honoring the deep roots and long history behind it.
How Chibana Hanaori Textile Is Made
The process of making Chibana hanaori is long and detailed. Every step takes skill and patience. The final fabric carries the full weight of that care, with patterns and texture that feel alive.
Designing the Pattern
It starts with the design. The pattern gets drawn out on graph paper. This layout is the base for the entire piece. Every thread placement and color change follows this plan.
Winding the Threads
Next, the threads are wound onto wooden bobbins. These bobbins hold the thread tight and steady, ready for the steps that come after.
Warping the Thread
The warp threads, which run the full length of the textile, are measured out to the exact size needed. The weaver lines them up by length and width to match the planned fabric size.
Natural Dyeing Process
The threads are dyed using plants native to Okinawa. For the base color, a deep navy, artisans use Ryukyu ai, a local kind of indigo. To make the color richer, the thread gets dipped several times in dye that's been fermented with Awamori, a strong Okinawan liquor.
For other colors, they use natural sources. Fukugi trees, often planted in Okinawan gardens as windbreaks, give a yellow dye from their bark and leaves. For red tones, they turn to Yeddo hawthorn, a tree rich in tannin. This adds a warm, reddish-brown to the fabric.
Thread Setup: Through the Reed
After dyeing, each thread gets slipped through the narrow grooves of a reed. This reed helps line up the threads before the actual weaving starts. It keeps the pattern threads and the base threads organized, but it’s only used temporarily.
Setting Threads in the Heddle
Once the reed step is done, the threads go into the heddle. This is the part that lifts and lowers threads so the weft can pass through. It separates the top threads from the bottom, creating a gap for weaving.
Preparing Threads for Final Weaving
After the heddle, the threads go through the reed again. This second time sets them up for real weaving. The top and bottom threads are arranged one more time to make sure they stay in the right place.
Weaving the Fabric
Now, the weaving begins. The weaver passes the weft threads across the warp threads, following the original design. The two techniques used here are tate uki hanaori, which lays the patterns vertically, and nui-tori hanaori, which gives the fabric an embroidered look. Each pass of the shuttle builds the pattern thread by thread.
Washing and Drying
Once weaving is finished, the fabric gets washed to remove extra dye and set the colors. It’s then pulled and dried using a curved pole called a temple. This stretches the fabric evenly, so the final width and length stay true to the original size.
Every step in this process keeps Chibana hanaori connected to its past. The fabric that comes out of it isn't just cloth. It's history, skill, and story woven into every inch.
17. Hon-Shiozawa Silk
Hon-shiozawa silk is a traditional Japanese textile made in Minamiuonuma, a city in Niigata Prefecture. This area, once known as the town of Shiozawa, is famous for both silk and linen weaving. Hon-shiozawa is one of the top fabrics that represent the region's craft. It shares its roots with other textiles from the area, like Shiozawa tsumugi and Natsu shiozawa. All of these developed from Echigo jofu, a high-grade ramie textile that dates back to the eighth century.
What makes Hon-shiozawa stand out is its unique crisp texture. This comes from how the fabric is treated. After weaving, the cloth is kneaded in hot water, which brings out fine wrinkles and a bumpy finish. The fabric also features precise kasuri patterns, especially juji kasuri, which looks like small crosses, and kikko kasuri, shaped like tortoise shells.
How Hon-Shiozawa Silk Is Made
The silk threads used in Hon-shiozawa are twisted tighter than usual. They’re spun left and right, seven to eight times harder than standard silk. This hard twist is key. When the woven cloth is placed in lukewarm water and kneaded, that tight twist causes the fabric to crinkle in just the right way, giving it a dry, crisp feel when you touch it.
The warp threads are dyed using different methods like tie-dye, stencil dye, or paper stencil dye. These threads are carefully aligned during weaving so the kasuri patterns come out clean and sharp. Every step of the process demands close attention to detail to make sure the final pattern matches the design.
The History Behind Hon-Shiozawa Silk
The origins of this fabric go way back. In 731, a ramie cloth made in the Echigo area, which is now Niigata Prefecture, was sent to the Imperial Court. That same piece is still kept today in the Shosoin Repository in Nara, which shows how long this textile tradition has been alive in the region. Because the area gets heavy snow, it’s perfect for making fabrics that don’t handle dry air well. Echigo jofu, the ancestor of Hon-shiozawa, is one of those.
Hon-shiozawa evolved from the same techniques used to make Echigo jofu. That includes the special weaving style and the wrinkled texture that comes from kneading the finished cloth in hot water. There’s also a record from 1867 listing silk crepe as a luxury item, which shows that this type of fabric was already being made during the Edo period.
One story says that between 1661 and 1672, a man named Masatoshi Hori came up with the method of making hard-twist threads. He’s believed to be the one who helped make the crisp-feeling fabric popular. Whether or not that story is true, the technique clearly dates back several centuries.
What Makes Hon-Shiozawa Different From Shiozawa Tsumugi
Even though both Hon-shiozawa and Shiozawa tsumugi are made using the skills behind Echigo jofu, there’s a big difference in how they’re built. Shiozawa tsumugi uses raw silk for the warp and floss silk for the weft. Hon-shiozawa, on the other hand, uses raw silk for both. It’s also kneaded after weaving, not before, which gives it a more textured surface and stiffer feel. This method keeps the pattern sharp while giving the fabric its signature crispness.
Today, Hon-shiozawa silk stands as a symbol of Japanese textile tradition. It reflects hundreds of years of local skill, passed down and fine-tuned over time. Each piece carries the feel of the snow-covered land where it was made, built with care and precision from start to finish.
How Hon-Shiozawa Silk Is Made: Step-by-Step Process
Designing the Pattern
It starts with a blueprint. A draft or sample is used to map out the kasuri pattern on graph paper. Every part of the design is measured down to the exact thread length and placement. A special ruler is made based on this layout to guide the rest of the work. This step makes sure the kasuri motifs fall in exactly the right spots on the finished textile.
Twisting the Raw Silk
Hon-shiozawa silk uses raw silk for both warp and weft threads. First, the threads are sorted into four groups: warp and weft for the base color, and warp and weft for the pattern. These threads are then twisted once in a step called the primary twist. This gets the thread thickness and strength even across the board so they behave consistently during weaving.
Marking the Kasuri Patterns
The classic kasuri patterns used in Hon-shiozawa are juji kasuri, shaped like a cross, and kikko kasuri, which looks like a tortoise shell. Together, they create what's known as the ka gasuri or mosquito pattern because of its tiny, detailed shapes. The pattern spots are marked on the weft threads using the custom kasuri ruler.
If hand-tie dyeing is used, each marked spot is tied tight with cotton thread before dyeing. These ties keep dye from soaking into those areas, leaving them white. If the threads aren't tied tight enough, the dye seeps in and ruins the design.
Stencil Dyeing the Threads
In stencil dyeing, ink is pressed into the marked spots using a stencil spatula. After that, the threads are steamed at 100 degrees Celsius to fix the color. This locks in the dye and brings out the sharp contrast between the dyed and undyed parts.
Hard-Twisting for Texture
Once dyed, the base weft threads are treated with starch powder, then twisted again, but this time much harder. The twist count hits around 1800 turns per meter in both left and right directions. This extreme twist is what gives Hon-shiozawa silk its crisp, dry touch. When woven, these hard-twisted threads form the fabric’s signature wrinkled surface.
Threading and Weaving
The actual weaving is done on a takahata loom, which has two heddles and one reed and is run by foot pedals. This loom has been in use since the Edo period. The heddles and reed lift and lower the warp threads, opening a gap so the weft threads can pass through.
Warp threads are adjusted with care when wound around the bobbin, making sure base and pattern threads stay in place. About 1500 warp threads are threaded by hand through the heddle eyes and reed slots, two at a time. Weft threads are also separated, twisted, labeled by direction (left or right), and wrapped around tubes to prep for weaving.
Once everything is sorted, the weaving starts slowly and carefully. The tight patterns and twisted threads mean the work takes time and focus.
Finishing the Fabric
After the fabric is woven, it’s cleaned to remove starch and any leftover impurities. Then it’s kneaded in warm water. This is the final step that brings out the wrinkled, bumpy texture and also causes the fabric to shrink by about ten percent.
The last part is rolling the fabric into the proper width and inspecting it for flaws. Once it passes the check, the Hon-shiozawa silk is done.
This method keeps the design sharp, the texture crisp, and the feel of the fabric exactly how it's meant to be. The process is slow and precise, but it’s what gives Hon-shiozawa silk its lasting quality and unique finish.
18. Oitama Tsumugi Silk
Oitama tsumugi silk comes from the southern part of Yamagata Prefecture, mainly the towns of Yonezawa, Hakutaka, and Nagai. These places used to be known for growing and exporting ramie, a tall plant used for fabric. That trade started early in the Edo period. Toward the end of that era, people in the region began working toward making their own fabric locally. Over time, ramie gave way to mulberry silk, and the area moved into full-scale silk production.
Each town in the Oitama region brings its own style to the process. In Yonezawa, they use natural dyes made from things like safflower, indigo, and silvergrass. Safflower is actually Yamagata’s prefectural flower. Hakutaka uses a dye method called itajime, which involves pressing fabric between wooden boards to create patterns. The kasuri patterns used there were influenced by Okinawan textiles. Nagai adds its own touch with different weaving methods, but all three places share a few things in common. They all dye the thread before weaving, and they all use plain weave techniques, which take a lot of time and skill.
The History of Oitama Tsumugi Silk
Back in the early Edo period, farmers in Yonezawa grew ramie and safflower. In 1601, the local ruler Kagekatsu Uesugi told his people to grow these plants as regional specialties. These raw materials were shipped out to places like Echigo, which is now called Niigata. In 1776, another ruler, Yozan Uesugi, brought in craftsmen from Echigo to teach local women how to weave. That move helped kick off a fabric industry in Yonezawa.
At first, they used only ramie. But over time, the region pushed for more silk farming, and the focus switched to making silk fabric. By the Meiji period, silk production had spread to Hakutaka and Nagai. These areas were also strong in silk work. During this time, advanced kasuri techniques started showing up more. Two main types became especially popular: Yoneryu kasuri and Itajime kogasuri. Between the Taisho and early Showa periods, these styles became known across Japan.
In 1976, Yonezawa, Hakutaka, and Nagai came together to combine their methods and created what we now call Oitama tsumugi. The region blends unique techniques like Kusakizome dyeing from Yonezawa, Yokoso kasuri, and Tateyoko Heiyo kasuri from Nagai, and the wooden board dyeing method from Hakutaka. Together, these styles keep the craft alive and make Oitama tsumugi one of Japan’s standout traditional silk fabrics.
Natural Plant Dyeing in Yonezawa: Kusakizome Method
In Yonezawa, Oitama tsumugi silk is dyed using a traditional plant-based technique called kusakizome. It starts in July, when safflower plants bloom. These flowers look like thistles and start out bright yellow. By mid-July, they changed to a reddish tone. They’re picked early in the morning when dew softens the thorns, making them easier to handle.
Once picked, the petals are kneaded in water. This step helps separate the pigments. Yellow color seeps into the water easily, but the red stays locked in the petals. To pull out more red pigment, the petals are dried and fermented. Fermenting boosts the red dye by nearly ten times. After that, they’re ground with a mortar and pestle to deepen the color even more.
Next, the petals are pounded into flat cakes. These safflower cakes are dried to make them easier to store, ship, and use for color adjustment. When it's time to dye, the cakes are soaked in lye to break down the pigment. Threads go into this dye bath and take on an orange shade at first. Then acid is added, which changes the orange into a bright red. This step is repeated until the right color is reached.
Wooden Board Resist Dyeing: Itajime Kogasuri Technique
Another key method used in Oitama tsumugi silk is itajime kogasuri, or wooden board resist dyeing. It starts with silk cocoons. The silk is boiled and then drawn into fine fibers. These fibers are hand-wound into threads. This keeps the natural texture intact and makes the fabric feel soft and organic.
Once the threads are ready, they’re carefully wound around carved wooden boards. These boards have tiny grooves shaped to match specific kasuri patterns. Both the warp and weft threads are wrapped around them. This step is delicate. If the threads are pulled too tight or too loose, the patterns won't line up during weaving.
After wrapping, the boards are stacked in layers, about ten at a time, and tightened. Hot water is poured over the whole stack. This causes the threads to stick to the boards. Then natural dye is poured over them. When the boards are pulled apart, the dye leaves behind precise, repeating patterns, exactly like the grooves carved in the wood.
The dyed threads are then dried. Weaving begins after that. The weaver has to line up the dyed parts of the warp and weft perfectly so the patterns fall into place. It takes extreme focus to get it right. Even expert weavers only finish about thirty centimeters a day. This slow and careful process is what gives itajime kogasuri its detailed, sharp patterns and refined look.
19. Ojiya Tsumugi Silk
Ojiya tsumugi is a silk fabric made in Ojiya, a city in Niigata prefecture that’s known for its heavy snowfall. The area has a long tradition of weaving, going back over a thousand years. One of its oldest textiles is Echigo jofu, which is made from ramie. Over time, new weaving styles gave rise to a version called Ojiya chijimi. That fabric stands out because of its textured surface, which comes from the way the weft threads are woven.
Ojiya tsumugi silk builds on that same history. It uses pongee silk and combines techniques from both Echigo jofu and Ojiya chijimi. The result is a lightweight silk fabric with a soft, misty look. That appearance comes from the overlapping patterns of the warp and weft threads, especially when using dupioni raw silk. Some pieces are left in a plain white version, known as shiro tsumugi. Others are dyed with traditional splash-pattern techniques, called yokosogasuri.
What makes this silk special is how it feels. It’s warm and soft like floss silk, but still smooth and glossy like high-grade silk. It’s also strong enough for daily wear, so it’s not just for formal use.
The History Behind Ojiya Tsumugi Silk
Weaving in the Ojiya area was already thriving when a samurai named Masatoshi Hori came to stay between 1661 and 1672. He came from the Akashi domain, which is now part of Kobe. During his time in Ojiya, he improved Echigo jofu and created a new summer fabric called Ojiya chijimi. This version was lighter and cooler, perfect for the hot season. It also introduced new styles, including striped patterns. These changes helped the textile industry in the region grow even more.
Later on, in the mid-Edo period, weavers began to use silk threads with the same Ojiya chijimi techniques. At first, they used leftover cocoons to spin the threads, so the silk was only worn at home. But things changed in the late Edo to early Meiji period. A famine hit, and ramie became hard to get. With the shortage, many weavers gave up on ramie and switched to silk production. That change led to the birth of Ojiya tsumugi.
Local artisans picked up the craft and helped turn it into a major silk tradition in the region. The area had everything needed: a long history of silk farming, proven weaving skills from Echigo jofu, and a damp winter climate that worked well for silk-making. All of this came together to make Ojiya tsumugi a lasting and respected textile known across Japan.
How Ojiya Tsumugi Silk Is Made
Design Planning with Kasuri Patterns
Every piece of Ojiya tsumugi starts with a detailed plan. To get the kasuri patterns just right, the artisan first creates a custom ruler based on a drawn design. This special ruler helps make sure the pattern lines up once the threads are woven. Craftsmen have been using rulers like this since the 1680s. It’s the only way to keep the pattern accurate from start to finish.
Making the Thread from Raw Silk
The thread used in Ojiya tsumugi comes from dupioni raw silk and hand-pulled silk floss. First, silkworm cocoons are boiled for hours to loosen the fibers. After that, the silk strands are pulled out one by one and layered to make floss. Each strand is then twisted into a fine, strong thread by hand.
Dupioni raw silk is different. It comes from cocoons that hold two or more silkworm pupae. Because the threads inside are tangled and knotted, the result is a textured silk called knotted thread. This type of silk gives pongee its smooth feel and slightly rough look.
Once the threads are ready, they’re twisted together: warp threads form the base, and weft threads carry the pattern. These are boiled to clean out impurities, then wrapped around a gourd-shaped spool called a fukube. The number of threads used depends on the pattern plan.
Marking and Tying Threads for the Pattern
The weft threads are stretched across a pulling stand and marked with ink using the custom kasuri ruler. This step makes sure the pattern will land in the right spots during weaving. After marking, a tying method called kubiri kasuri is used to cover sections of the thread that shouldn’t get dyed. This hand-tying process is also known as tekukuri.
These days, most artisans use surikomi kasuri, which works better for complex designs and more colors. It’s faster and gives more control when dyeing detailed patterns.
Dyeing the Silk Threads
Two main techniques are used to dye Ojiya tsumugi: surikomi kasuri and kubiri kasuri.
Surikomi kasuri uses a bamboo spatula to rub dye into specific parts of the thread. It follows the original design sketch closely. This method takes a steady hand and a lot of focus.
Kubiri kasuri works differently. After tying the threads, they’re bundled and dyed along with the base threads. The dye spreads slowly at the tied sections, so those parts take longer to absorb color. Both natural dyes like indigo and plant-based colors, as well as chemical dyes, are used. Once dyed, the threads are steamed at 100°C to lock in the color and soften them for weaving.
Weaving the Fabric
After dyeing, the threads are wound tightly based on the pattern. Warp and weft thread positions need to match the design perfectly. Weft threads are untied and rewound, then stretched on a frame and wrapped onto a spinning tube.
Each weft thread is placed through a heddle eye. Two at a time go into the slots of the reed. Once all threads are in place, the design sketch is laid below the loom to help align the pattern. Both base and pattern threads are wrapped around the loom's axis. The weaver checks everything again to line up the kasuri marks.
Weaving begins with each weft thread added one at a time. The process sticks closely to the original pattern. This same method has been followed since the Edo period without change.
Final Steps and Finishing Touches
After weaving, the fabric is washed in warm water to remove leftover starch. Then it’s dried flat and hammered to bring out the silk’s natural texture. Once fully dry, the cloth is carefully inspected for any mistakes or flaws in the weave. Only when it passes that check is the textile considered finished.
Every part of this process, from the hand-dyed threads to the final weave, shows the care and detail that goes into real Ojiya tsumugi silk.
Click here to read about the next 19 Japanese woven textile crafts and their techniques.
