My first kimono ensemble arrived yesterday - this black wool number from Yamatoku (a spur-of-the-moment 99 cent bid).

The kimono is a classically unlined wool kimono, but has quite a high-end, cotton-lined collar with a press-stud (all my other wool kimono have sewn-down collars). The haori is lined with a pretty polyester lining and a very deep hem. 

Described as unused, both seem to be fairly modern, but since they had a musty smell from long storage and when I opened the kimono, a silverfish fell out, I decided to take a risk for once and wash them, as they will now be put away until winter. 

I've never washed a wool kimono before, nor a haori - I've always been too worried about the lining shrinking at a different rate from the main fabric, and the dyes leaking - but I popped them into a lingerie bag and washed them on zero degrees on wool wash and they've come out absolutely fine. I ironed them while still damp this morning, and they're now drying on racks, awaiting another pressing once fully dry.

Wool tsumugi is a very tough, slubby, slightly hairy weave (think Harris Tweed only thinner) that is very different from the fine 'moserin' (muslin) weaves you see in wool juban.

I got the DH a couple of wool jubans this summer that are very thin - one like a wool challis and the other so thin and fine that it's almost transparent. He wears both of them over pjs as a dressing gown. This wool kimono, in contrast, must never go anywhere near my skin, I think, or I would be itching like crazy. It is far more like suiting, and will go well over jeans and a sweater in winter.  I might put a black velvet collar on the haori, and possibly on the kimono too, to be on the safe side.

Kimono-haori ensembles nearly always seem to be wool. I don't know whether I'll be wearing this kimono and haori more together or more separately, but I can guess that they'll both get plenty of wear this coming season, for both their warmth and their dark, practical colours.  It is really nice to contemplate livening up my usual all-black and brown winter sweaters and jeans with some bright colours like this red, green and yellow.

A couple of new kimono arrived today - both of them wool, which seems a bit weird in the middle of summer, but a girl likes to be prepared. 

This red one with a broken stripe is from KimonoBestBuy on Ebay, and was only a few cents. I'm guessing it dates from the 1950s from the colour, which in real life is rust-red shot through with black slubs, with additions of green in every other stripe. The fabric is the harsh, stiff kind of wool tsumugi that is practically bulletproof - very easy to wear.

I already have this same fabric in this purple wool komon, bought in 2004, and both are very different from my other wool komon - this navy one with Edo houses, which is much more like a gabardine in feel.

Throughout last winter I kept this navy one hanging up behind my desk as a popover, and it's really extraordinarily warm and comfortable - probably, overall, my most-worn kimono. 

I wear winter kimono over my thermals and a polo-neck sweater, and they're usually teamed - most unflatteringly - with Uggs, as our house is freezing in winter. 

The other kimono that arrived today was this man's one from KimonoBestBuy. Theoretically it's for me. I was so enamoured of the brown striped silk one that I bought for the DH recently, that I put in a one-dollar bid for this one just to make the most of the combined shipping from Japan.

I was the only bidder, which is madness really - this kimono is absolutely beautiful, pretty heavy at 980g, and very warm - the fabric feels something like a quality wool suiting. The DH's eyes lit up when he saw it and I can see I'm going to have to wrest it from him to have any chance of wearing it. My aim then is to hem it up by a couple of inches so that both of us can wear it.

Wool kimono are nearly always unlined, and although you're meant to dry-clean them, they're actually washable in the machine, in a lingerie bag - you need the lingerie bag to prevent the garment getting twisted and stressing the hand-done stitches. 

They are also always considered informal kimono. Wool was a late addition to the Japanese panoply of fibres, and is a western introduction, so cannot be considered as formal. Also, designs are always woven, which makes the garment inherently 'everyday'.

Geometrics and other kasuri-type weaves and abstract designs that look like solid colour from a distance are all common in wool, while multi-coloured pictorial designs like the Edo landscape are less common and considered a bit posher. 

I have been buying kimono again after a long gap, and oh what a joy it is.

The main reason has been the recession - for a couple of years, there simply hasn't been the money to spend on things that I don't actually need, however beautiful they may be. But just recently, things have improved a bit, so I have been able to indulge myself a little. 

The other reason, though, is that I've come up with a form of kitsuke that actually fits my life.

There are many people who dress up in kimono very formally, keen to obey all the 'rules' about what kind of obi goes with what kind of kimono, and how you should wear your collar, etc. 

I am not one of those. Kimono have to fit into my everyday life. That means I have always worn my haoris a lot, over dresses, skirts and jeans (sometimes with the collars flipped forward and the ties held on by buttons), but my long kimono almost never got an outing. I felt rubbish about cutting into them to deal with the overlength, and had quite given up on formal kimono such as tomesode houmongi etc, because I hated to wrap left over right.

However, last winter was glacially cold and in searching about for something to wear, I suddenly realised that kimono were warmer and more comfortable than almost everything else I owned. I started keeping my navy wool komon in the office, to wear as a popover, and now, for some reason, I am suddenly wearing my long kimonos and yukatas, duly wrapped left over right, as if I had always done it this way. 

The trick, I've realised, is the oshahori - the fold that you put in the waist of a modern kimono. I had always avoided this, instead preferring to shorten kimono from the hem, but if you do an ohoshori right, the kimono stays tight shut rather than flapping open all the time. I have come up with a method of securing it with a 2-yard piece of satin lingerie elastic. Fold it in half, slip the raw end through the loop and pull taut, then twist the loose ends in - voila. A very comfy koshi-himo that stays put but can be loosened with just a tug in the right place. 

Over the fold, I wear either a narrow sash, or a length of kimono fabric folded in half lengthways and wrapped round 2-3 times. Whatever way, the bow goes at the front - I sit in a chair  to work and I can't be doing with a taiko bow or somesuch getting in the way. Japanese women wore their obis tied softly at the front for centuries, so I refuse to feel bad about not going in for the obi-ita, obi-jime, obi-age and all the other gubbins that go along with the taiko musabi. Next step is to start making my own obis, I think. I have some cut-off stiff silk from a damaged fukuro that might take a bit of stencilling and work quite well. 

I'll blog individually about my new kimonos separately, but suffice it to say that it's got a bit out of hand, just like before. I must now slow down a bit. But meanwhile, do enjoy these new purchases. They include this black meisen with shaded yabane, blue jinken sha with white yabane, green and yellow tsumugi with takewaku pattern, and grey wool hippari (or possibly a dochugi). I've also bought wool kimono, cotton kimono, juban and yukata, and for the DH four wafuku - a haori, a yukata, a summerweight wool juban and a heavy winter-weight silk kimono, of which I'm deeply envious - they are gorgeous.