In the classical sense, the ritual of dressing in a kimono — with all its layers, accessories, and obi sash — has largely vanished from everyday life in Japan, surviving only in narrow ceremonial contexts: weddings, tea ceremonies, festivals. But the era of the kimono has not ended — neither at home nor on the street. If we look inside Japanese homes, we find that the kimono has simply shifted context. Today, it lives on in nagagi, yōsōzori, and yukata — house robes and nightwear that continue the tradition of wrapping, bodily freedom, and the ritual of self-care. Meanwhile, Japanese youth and people around the world wear both vintage kimonos and modern reinterpretations in a free, personal manner.

The kimono is not experiencing a revival. It has entered a new phase of existence — not as a costume, but as a cultural code woven into the fabric of modernity.

This code is simple: wrapping, not shaping; space, not form; ritual, not function. And today, it resonates louder than ever.

Nagagi, Yōsōzori, Yukata: Heirs of the Kimono

In the Japanese home, the kimono was not “simplified” — it was adapted to daily life while preserving its core principles: rectangular cut, wrapping, natural fabrics.

Nagagi (“long garment”) — a cotton or silk robe still worn primarily by older women, especially in regions like Kyoto or Kanazawa. It echoes the kimono’s structure but omits the lining and complex obi — featuring only a wrap closure and a light cord.

Yōsōzori (“nightwear”) — a simpler form: a short or long robe without a belt, often made of soft cotton. It is worn before sleep and removed in the morning.

Yukata, originally worn in onsen (hot springs), is now a summer staple for both home and festivals. Worn without an under-kimono (nagajuban), it is light and breathable — yet still enveloping, never clinging.

While young people typically wear universal loungewear — T-shirts, shorts, hoodies — brands like Muji, Minä Perhonen, and Okura offer minimalist wrap robes with rectangular cuts that quietly reference the aesthetics of the nagagi.

Moreover, since the early 21st century, Japanese youth have shown renewed interest in wearing everyday kimonos. Some seek out vintage pieces; others express themselves through subcultural styling — from punk and sportswear to feminine and kawaii aesthetics — purchasing modern kimonos from contemporary makers at accessible prices.

The Runway as Dialogue

The kimono has profoundly influenced global fashion since Japan’s debut at the 1867 Paris World’s Fair. By 1924, American Vogue had already published an article titled “The Japanese Element in Western Fashion,” noting:

“At a time when no fewer than half of fashionable garments feature a ‘kimono’ cut, when ‘kimono’ has become a popular synonym for robe, when major Parisian fashion houses consistently use Japanese embroidery, and when a recent season saw a deliberate attempt to make the obi sash a fashion accessory — it is unnecessary to stress the importance of Japanese influence on Western fashion.”

Beyond Japan, the kimono ceased to be an “ethnic reference” and became a structural principle.

Designers who have honored the kimono include Alexander McQueen and John Galliano.

This dialogue cannot be imagined without the voices of those shaping fashion from within Japan — from Issey Miyake’s revolutionary deconstruction to Comme des Garçons’ radical avant-garde — as well as those reinterpreting it beyond its borders: from Chitose Abe (Sacai), whose collections blend kimono and streetwear, to Junya Watanabe, whose work on Paris runways dissolves the boundary between technology and tradition.

The Kimono as Hidden Code: Reimagining Form

The kimono has long transcended ritual. It no longer requires ceremonial wear to retain meaning. On the contrary — its power now lies in its invisibility: in loungewear, in lingerie, in silhouettes that wrap rather than cling.

Today, the kimono is not an ethnographic reference — it is an architecture of the body. Its principles — rectangular cut, asymmetry, stillness — have become a universal design language, spoken from Milan to Seoul, from Paris runways to minimalist everyday brands.

In high fashion, “Japonisme” is no longer a trend — it is grammar. McQueen, Galliano, Watanabe, Kawakubo — they do not quote the kimono; they reinterpret it as a mode of thought: about freedom, about the boundary between inner and outer, about how clothing can shape the space around the body rather than merely replicate its contours.

Beyond the avant-garde, the kimono seeps into daily life — not as costume, but as aesthetic reflex: robes, wrap closures, soft lines. This is not nostalgia — it is a response to fatigue from hyper-form and contour pressure. It is an attempt to restore the body’s dignity of stillness.

It is here, in the intimate sphere, that the kimono becomes especially relevant. Because lingerie is not only function. It is the first garment we put on. And if it is rooted in care rather than display, it changes not only how the body feels — it changes how we relate to ourselves.

Thus, the kimono — once thought to have faded — now lies at the heart of the contemporary longing for wholeness and presence.

What’s Next?

This article is part of a research series on the kimono and its influence on contemporary fashion.
As part of a future project in Japan, I plan to:

• Visit the archives of the Kyoto Costume Institute
• Investigate how techniques like shibori and sashiko are used in modern clothing — including loungewear and lingerie
• Write a series of articles and create a visual diary

Subscribe to garterblog.ru — it will be fascinating.

Sources

• Japan Textile Information Center — Domestic Wear in Japan, 2023
• Kimono: Kyoto to Catwalk — V&A Publishing
• Cover photo — Björk’s Homogenic album cover (1997), featuring a McQueen kimono