Getting into a kimono.

Although my gallery "Geisha" seems to be about as popular with the public as pork pies on a Bar Mitzvah buffet I thought I'd post another blog related to it. Anybody looking through the gallery (few as they are!) might have been impressed by the sheer luxury and elaborate sumptuousness of the geisha costume. Perhaps some of the girls might even fancy trying it for themselves or at least be interested in how the ensemble goes together. Well I've had personal experience in dressing up in full geisha rig and I can tell you now that it's a hell of a job!

I used my personal experience in my writing and, in order to explain a little more about the wearing of a full formal kimono and all the bits and bats that come with it, I've decided to post a short extract from my "Slaves of the Amethyst" saga in which the slaves girls of Mathom Hall decide to get dressed up in full geisha regalia for a garden party with the help of a Japanese assistant.

This extract then concerns the not inconsiderable effort involved in geisha regalia and an indication of the sort of process a geisha would have had to endure more or less every day.


At the Hall Lady Jennifer’s younger namesake was wincing in pain as Mrs Yakamura wrestled her into her kimono. Jennifer had been mildly excited by the prospects of a garden party in the Oriental Gardens when it had been announced that morning and the idea had gone a long way to restoring her morale after the events of yesterday. She had been even more thrilled when she’d been told that Julie was invited to the party as well. With the Oriental Gardens weaving their magic she felt sure of addressing the growing separation between them. Of course she’d detected Rebecca’s manipulations behind the invitation and had sighed. There was unfinished business between Rebecca and herself now too. Life was complicated all of a sudden but surely it would simplify in the glades of the Oriental Gardens.

She would have been less enthusiastic about the whole business had she had any inclination of just how complicated and time consuming the preparations for the party would be. The last time she had worn Japanese dress she had simply worn an informal yukata. The kimono she was being bullied into now was quite a different matter! It was a formal homongi or visiting kimono with enormously deep sleeves and a full pattern in rich shades of greens and golds. It was an awesome sheath of heavy silk, hand woven, sewn and dyed, richly patterned and ridiculously valuable. It had come folded in its own special case and Jennifer had gasped when Mrs Yakamura had presented it to her. It was worth several thousand pounds. Jennifer would have been horrified to discover that her entire ensemble that evening would have left little change out of ten thousand pounds.


Before she could even get near to putting the kimono on however there had been elaborate preparations to be made. Her hair had been tugged, wrenched, waxed and beaten into a highly formalised Japanese style bunched up on her head and decorated with kanzashi hair ornaments. The make up hadn’t quite been the white porcelain doll like look of a geisha but it had been far more elaborate than Jennifer’s usual cosmetic appliance.

Then there’d been all the undergarments! There’d been the hadajuban like an under vest and a slip called a susoyoke that you wore next to your skin. Then on top of those there was an under kimono that Jennifer had learned was called a nagajuban and the funny socks with divided toes called tabi. Only when she was dressed in these garments could the full kimono be placed upon her.

In her ignorance Jennifer had assumed that a kimono, like a dress, came according to the size of the wearer. She was astonished therefore to discover that kimonos came in a single standard size, T-shaped great bolts of silk, that had to be folded, tucked and arranged according to the body shape of the wearer. The whole affair was then bolted into place by the huge wide obi that was wrapped around you from the hips to the breasts and tucked and tied into place as firmly as a corset. It had taken the combined efforts of Mrs Yakamura and her two assistants to muscle the garment into place, squeezing the breath out of Jennifer as they did so.

To top off the whole outfit was a haori that was a sort of formal kimono coat worn over the kimono. Once into this and perched on the wooden geta sandals Jennifer began to understand the delicate little careful movements that Japanese women displayed when dressed in their finery. It was nearly impossible to move any other way! These were not costumes for dashing about flamboyantly in. Just trying to kneel down, as they would have to at a formal Japanese dinner, was a taxing activity! Even walking. You had to sort of tip toe along with little tiny steps with the trail of your kimono waggling behind looking almost silly.


Thank the Goddess she wasn’t a slave of some high Japanese family thought Jennifer. She could never have gone through all this rigmarole everyday! It had taken Mrs Yakamura the better part of the afternoon dressing the girls up. She’d dashed from one of their rooms to another with her assistants because none of the girls had wanted the others to see them until they were fully attired in their finery. Jennifer wondered if the other girls were as thoroughly fed up with the whole business as she was.


At last Mrs Yakamura seemed satisfied. She stood back to admire her handiwork critically and clapped her hands. “Ah very pretty lady! You perfect little Japanese girl now!”


“I feel like a blooming stuffed doll!” grumbled Jennifer ill humouredly.
Mrs Yakamura laughed. “Ah no lady! You just perfect!”


“I can’t believe that Japanese ladies have to go to all this fuss just to get dressed up for a dinner party! I can hardly breathe!”


“Ah lady what’s a little pain? We want to look beautiful so we endure our pain! Pain is price we pay for being women! Come please! Look in mirror!” Mrs Yakamura had not allowed Jennifer to look at herself in the mirror until she was satisfied with her dress. Now she led Jennifer to the big floor length mirror in Jennifer’s chambers and let her drink in the extraordinary vision. Jennifer stared at herself in astonishment. Her familiar reflection had disappeared to be replaced by the exotic looking lady in the glass. She seemed to glow in the greens and golds of the elaborate kimono, the golden obi, matching haori and the kanzashi in flashes of colour in her hair. She looked like a precious doll, an Emperor’s concubine from some bygone age, fragile and beautiful.


“My goodness!” she breathed. “It’s…. it’s amazing!”


Mrs Yakamura chuckled in delight. “You very pretty lady! Your sisters too! Come now they all waiting for you!”


The other girls greeted Jennifer with a resounding cheer as she shimmied carefully into the common room. They were an amazing sight. Abigail’s kimono was an incredible affair in blues and silver whilst the twins had opted for fantastically patterned kimonos with floral designs in a bewildering combination of colours. Alice was looking comically self-conscious in a stunning creation of warm pinks and white. Rebecca looked like an oriental sorceress in flaming scarlet and black designs. “Wow Jenny!” Helen expostulated “You look fantastic!”


“You too! You all do!” Jennifer replied.


“I should bloody well hope so!” Heather muttered “The effort it took to get me into this thing! There were times I could have slapped Becky for her daft idea of us all getting dressed up in Japanese formal clothes!”
“You look great s*s!” Rebecca told her.


“What are we wearin’ on us feet lasses?” Alice asked. “We can’t be goin’ out in t’ gardens in us socks!”


“Our geta are at the slave’s entrance Alice.” Abigail told her. “Japanese ladies don’t wear shoes in the house. Anyway there’s a pair of Japanese slippers for you by the hearth. If you need to go to the loo there’s another pair outside the door of the common bathroom.”


“Eh? What the ‘ell for?”


“Oh Alice! In Japan you never wear the same slippers in the bathroom as you do in the rest of the house. You have to change them at the door before you enter and back again when you come out.”


“bloody hell! Don’t even mention going to the loo!” groaned Heather. “The thought of hitching this little lot up just to sit on the thunder-jug doesn’t bear thinking about!”


“The Japanese manage it Heath!” grinned Abigail. “Come on we’ve plenty of time girls. Let’s have a drink to set the proceedings in motion! I’ve got some saki warming in the kitchen! We might as well do the job properly!” Abigail waddled tentatively in the direction of the kitchen.


“Your kimono train looks like a duck’s arse waggling behind you!” Helen told her.


“Stop it Hell! Don’t make me laugh for pity’s sake. I swear everything will come adrift if I do!”


“Mine bloody well won’t!” Heather commented, “I think Mrs Yakamura used a tyre iron to get mine on! It feels like it’s set in concrete!”


The saki was hot and aromatic and the six girls became more animated as they admired each other’s costumes. “Damn it! Have we got a camera?” asked Rebecca.


“I’ve got mine tucked inside my obi somewhere if I can ever find it again!” Abigail told her. “I thought we could take some pics when we get in the Gardens.”


“Brill! We’ve just got to have some photos of us all dressed up like this!”
“I was going to bring mine as well.” said Helen, “but I didn’t know how to carry it. Are we allowed handbags?”


“Sure!” said Rebecca, “There should be matching little bags with your parasols ladies. You can stuff a lot of things down your obi but even Japanese ladies need something to carry all their bits and bats in!”


“Well let’s get some photos before we set off anyway.” Helen decided, “While our costumes are still in one piece!”


“Are we supposed to ‘ave t’ collars on us under kimonos showin’?” asked Alice.


“Oh yes Alice.” said Abigail. “You’re supposed to show about an inch of the collar on your hadajuban. It’s called the haneri actually. Also you’re supposed to expose part of your neck, which is considered to be the most erotic zone. That’s why Mrs Yakamura painted our necks with those white V shapes. It’s supposed to be alluring!”


“Sod me! Must be complicated bein’ a Japanese lass!”


“Japanese women only go to these lengths on formal occasions Alice. Most of the time they just wear western dress now.”


“That’s not necessarily true Abi.” Rebecca noted. “In many Japanese Alpha Sensual households the slaves are required to wear traditional dress at all times when on duty. I met some Japanese girls off the Line at uni and they were telling me about it. They had to get up two hours before the rest of the household just to get dressed because they were obliged to wait upon their masters and mistresses in full kimono! It’s supposed to instil self-discipline, self-awareness and respect for tradition.”


“Goddess!” breathed Abigail “And we think we’ve got it rough sometimes! I think I’d lose the will to live if I had to hitch my kimono up for the cane every time my okumi wasn’t laid just right or something!”


Rebecca laughed. “They didn’t seem to mind. They seemed quite proud of their ability to wear kimono. They were sure as hell a lot better at it than we are! I mean it’s an acquired skill isn’t it?”


“That’s true enough!” Abigail agreed. “It must take shed loads of practise to look the part in these costumes! Don’t geishas have to go through years of intensive training to get it right?”


“Well for the love of the Goddess don’t mention it to the Lady!” quipped Heather. “I’d hate her to get it into her head that we’d all benefit from a regime of geisha training!”


“What are we doing about the boys?” Jennifer asked.


“They’re joining us a bit later Jenny.” Abigail responded. “Danny and Darren have to get back from their work in the village so we’re going on to the Gardens ahead of them. Mrs Yakamura will be intercepting them when they get back so they’ve no hope of getting out of proper formal wear!”


“That’s a point!” said Helen “It’s getting on! We’d better be shifting. I don’t know about you ladies but it’ll take me flipping ages to walk over to the Oriental Gardens in this gear! It’s bloody miles and I’m worried enough just about getting downstairs! This kind of kit isn’t exactly designed for athletic enterprise! If they ever had a fire at a formal Japanese banquet there’d be bloody carnage!”


“Never fear sister!” Abigail reassured her smugly “Transport is arranged! I sorted it all out at lunch time.”


“What sort of transport?” asked Heather suspiciously.


“Never you mind! Something special! It’s a surprise!”


At that moment the telephone rang in the common room. Abigail stood closest to it picked it up casually. “Hello?” As the others watched her face turned pale with shock. “Yes! Yes of course. Thank you!” she put the phone down and leaned heavily against the wall. “Oh shit!”


“What’s the matter Abi?” asked Rebecca in alarm.


“That was downstairs. The Lady just breezed in about ten minutes ago!”


“You’re pulling our legs Abi!” Helen protested, “She’s not due back till Thursday at the earliest!”


“I wish I was Hell! She’s just flown in from the south by helicopter! She wants to see us all in her chambers in twenty minutes flat!”

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Michaela