Last weekend, a tea ceremony was held at a kimono shop in my neighborhood, along a cherry blossom-lined street.

 

I was out for a run when I happened to pass by the shop and saw an acquaintance standing in front. She invited me to join, so I decided to participate on the spur of the moment.

 

After paying a nominal entrance fee—almost free—I stepped inside to find a tea gathering that also served as practice for a tea master and their students. Though I did not know tea ceremony etiquette, I joined the session by mimicking the others, and sharing the moment with my acquaintance and other participants I had just met.

 

Everyone—the tea master, the students, and all the participants except me—was dressed in a kimono (I was the only one in running attire). Most of the people who joined the tea ceremony before and after me were also wearing kimono.

 

To be honest, I was surprised by how many people seemed to own kimono as a matter of course. I was also impressed by their taste in choosing colors and patterns that perfectly matched the cherry blossom season.

 

After enjoying tea, I stepped outside to find the participants chatting under the blooming cherry trees. Soon, someone walking their dog stopped by and joined the circle, engaging in light-hearted conversation. The atmosphere of the community was overflowing with warmth and happiness.

 

“As you know, it takes time to put on a kimono. You can’t wear one unless you have a calm mind and enough time. People who can wear kimono like this in everyday life probably have a well-balanced work-life routine. It’s hard to replicate in metropolitans, and you should highlight it as a unique charm when reaching out to people from outside the region,”

 

said my acquaintance as we left the kimono shop together. It’s true—owning a beautiful kimono implies a certain level of financial stability, and taking lessons in tea ceremonies or participating in such events suggests one has time to spare as well.

 

Perhaps the number of people who can attend seasonal events dressed in kimonos can be seen as an indicator of how well work-life balance is being maintained.

 

Thinking along those lines, I began to feel like I’d like to own a kimono myself. I heard the shop has a small collection of vintage kimono for men in the back. I think I’ll talk to the owner—it might be a good way to expand my horizons. I’ve heard that the older you get, the more important it becomes to try new hobbies outside of your usual world.

 

At Hokuroku, I’m also starting to wonder whether we might be able to create some lifestyle content involving kimono.

 

Wishing you a great week ahead.

 

Masayoshi Sakamoto
Editor-in-Chief