First Series | Ten Questions About Cloth
Part 3 | What Happened to Clothes Once They Could No Longer Be Worn?
In Part 2, we saw that mending could begin before cloth actually tore. But what happened when a garment could no longer be worn as it was?
Old Japanese sources show that this did not always mean the end. A garment might become work clothing, be taken apart and remade, become bedding, or even be torn into strips and woven into new cloth. The life of the cloth could continue even after the life of the garment had ended.
Note: Unless an established English edition exists, English titles given for Japanese historical sources are working translations used in this Journal.
A Garment Could Change Its Role
田中忠三郎氏『図説 みちのくの古布の世界』—Chuzaburo Tanaka, The World of Old Textiles in Michinoku (working English translation)—describes an example of kogin clothing in northern Japan. A newer garment could be worn for special occasions, then later altered and used as work clothing when it became old. This was not a fixed path that every garment followed, but it shows something important: old clothing could take on a new role instead of simply being discarded.
Clothing could also be taken apart. 川島裁縫女學校編『現代和洋裁縫全書―初歩から奥儀まで』—Kawashima Sewing School, Complete Book of Modern Japanese and Western Sewing: From the Basics to Advanced Techniques (working English translation)—published in 1927, explains how old fabric could be used to make a haori, a short traditional jacket. Instead of starting with new cloth, the maker worked with the size and shape of the fabric already available. Once a garment was unstitched, it could become material again.
Cloth Could Become Something Else
福井貞子氏『染織の文化史―木綿と藍―』—Sadako Fukui, A Cultural History of Textiles: Cotton and Indigo (working English translation)—records examples of clothing being taken apart and reused for bedding and other garments. The movement could also go the other way: cloth from bedding could later be used for clothing. There was no single path. What happened next depended on the condition of the cloth and what was needed.
Another possibility was sakiori. Old cloth was torn into narrow strips and woven again to make a new textile. Fukui records old cotton being remade into belts, work clothing, and other items. Sashiko and sakiori are different techniques, and I am not suggesting a direct historical connection between them. What they do show is that old cloth could be given another use in very different ways.
From here, this is canoha’s interpretation. Perhaps the first question was not, “Which technique should I use?” but something simpler: “What can I still do with this cloth?” If it could still be used as cloth, it might be patched, layered, stitched, or remade. If not, it might be cut into strips and woven again. The choice would also depend on the place, the tools and skills available, and what people needed in daily life.
The Same Cloth Did Not Have to Stay the Same
Looking through these sources, one thing becomes clear to me: using cloth for a long time did not always mean wearing the same garment for years in the same form. A special garment might become workwear. Clothing could be taken apart and used again. Old cloth could become sakiori.
There was no fixed life cycle that every piece of cloth followed. What mattered was that the material could still have another use.
And that leads to another question. Someone had to look at the cloth, decide what could still be used, take it apart, stitch it, or weave it again.
Who was actually doing that work?