My 20-Minute Inheritance
Monique Bloomfield (Binghamton University)
I was already used to having feet slightly bigger than desired for woman, but my weight gain became
an additional burden. While the other girls in my study abroad group showed off their dresses and shoes
that they bought in Shibuya and Harajuku, all I had managed to buy where t-shirts; stockings after scouring
several stores. The Japanese size of LL struck me with fear and embarrassment, as I left several stores
empty-handed. My bags were full of cute omamori or good luck charms but when it came to finding
something to wear, maybe that wasn’t a part of Japan that was meant for me. So naturally, when some
friendly obaasan at my host school gave me a chance to wear a kimono, my first thought was if it would
even fit me.

I was nervous about making an awkward visage out of the beautiful garment, the only thing that had
captured my eye when I combed through glossy depictions of Japan in 6 th grade. As beautiful as the grassy
fields littered with delicate cherry blossoms were, nothing gripped me like those flowing layers of cloth. I
had never seen anything quite like the one-size-fits-all garment that managed to remain era-appropriate: I
saw them elegantly wrapped around the waists of not only geisha and maiko but everyday women as well.

The kimono was not just something that was out of style like hairstyles from the 80’s or hand-me-
downs given away when it no longer fits. It was a living and breathing symbol of its own, lending to the
ever-expanding mecca of what it means to be Japanese. It has meant so many different things to different
people: it was an attire during the day, and a blanket at night; a way to show allegiance; to show social class
or marital status. It was a canvas upon which talented artists could showcase their legacy with the sense of
pride that I admired about Japanese work ethic. The time it took to choose and put together the right obi
and kimono was an art in itself, showing the Japanese values of patience and harmony.

So much of the kimono wearer’s identity is shown without words, avoiding the directness I had to
tone down once I arrived to Japan. My concern was whether a foreigner like me, who preferred jeans over
dresses, would do such elegance justice. The three obaasan, looking flawlessly in-synch with the kimono
they were wearing, were not concerned with my body type as they fussed over my furisode. As they
consulted with each other too quickly in Japanese for my brain to comprehend, I felt a rush as I pushed my
arms through the pastel green silk kimono, its long sleeves brushing against my ankles. The bright orange
obi hugged my waist, much like one of the hoodies I was fond of.

Even though my steps had to be reduced dramatically and I resorted to tipping over like a teapot to
pick things up from the floor, I did not want to take it off. I was amazed at how well it represented me from
not only a physical level, but a spiritual level as well. The fabric welcomed me, embracing my body
perfectly to serve its purpose. I was without race or size, only concerned with care of what I could see
myself calling my kimono. Just as quickly, it was removed from me, ready to become owned by another.

I wish I had known enough Japanese to ask the obaasan about how many hands had passed through
this beautiful silk. How many young unmarried women, since that is who furisode were for, had worn this?
Whose grandmother? Whose aunt? All I could muster was a very heartfelt, “Arigatou gozaimazu”. I am
forever thankful for that 20-minute inheritance that truly felt like my own. There was no need to change
myself for the kimono because size or background did not matter. I felt a sense of belonging that no
clothing store could match, in a traditional garment I would never have the chance or reason to wear again
of all things. Perhaps the reason why the kimono continues to live on despite its decline is because of the
impression that stays with you. It was one and at the same time many when it needed to be. To me, it was
the part of Japan that I was looking for, beyond the justification of tags.

Bibliography “Kimono.” Wikipedia . Wikipedia Foundation, 01 2014. Web. 7 Jan 2014.

85