So please take advantage of my situation and purchase a bolt or two (or more) of your own! They will be listed as long as I am able to have the space to sell them. My next move may be tricky and I can’t be sure how long I can keep the shop open in the meantime.

[If you're reading this early on Sunday, be patient as I update listings to reflect the new prices. Thanks!]

Directed by Laura Neuvonen, Finland, 2005

[Click on the photos to see larger images]

This particular rug, which I found in a gallery in San Francisco, was produced from various worn out rugs that were cut up, overdyed, and pieced together patchwork-style (or maybe Frankenstein-style?). There is a heavy fabric backing to keep it all together as those top pieces really are quite worn. All the top stitching is done by machine, although from a passing glance it may look as though it was done by hand. I suppose that adds to the “rustic” look the designer was looking for.

What I liked about this rug: From a distance, this rug looks like a Japanese boro, which I love. It is similar to tribal rugs made from recycled material.

What I disliked about this rug: The reality; it isn’t boro, and it isn’t a tribal patchwork rug. It’s just… muddled.

More items will be listed as I get to them, including pieces of obi and kimono fabric, bundles of vintage kimono, and doll accessory bundles.

The Ultimate Sashiko Sourcebook starts the reader off with a colorful history of sashiko, including examples of country textiles and black and white photos from the early 20th century, when sashiko was still used for practical purposes, not just decorative ones. Susan goes on to discuss equipment, fabrics, and basic techniques, followed by several projects and a comprehensive section of stitches with instructions. At 128 full-color pages, I highly recommend this book to both new and experienced sashiko stitchers.

Originally published in the UK, I found a copy in my local library here in the US. If you’re stitching on a budget, ask your librarian if this is available. If you’re building up a craft library, this is a good book to have on hand as a reliable resource.

Having a fondness for Japanese craft books, I’ve unfairly avoided the majority of English-language craft books out there, but over the past few years many new titles have arrived on the market that offer Western crafters a comprehensive education on Eastern techniques. Susan Briscoe writes with an obvious fondness for Japanese culture, and I look forward to checking out more of her books in the future.

vintage doll accessories pack 1

Each pack will be comfortably nested in bubble wrap and poofy packing material inside a Priority Mail box for US orders or a plain cardboard box for international orders. There are many more items available that have never been listed because I didn’t have decent photographs of them, or they were too delicate to ship on their own. I will be offering these as part of the packs as I go along and get photos updated.

In case you missed it, I’ve also listed several new sets of doll photos, also from the doll maker who collected these little artifacts in Japan back in the 1950′s. The photo sets are helpful if you’re looking for historically accurate doll kimono, poses, accessories or just to get the flavor of how art dolls were made back then. They are in black and white, and would look very suitable in a frame over your desk or in a doll collection area.

Vintage Japanese dolls photo set #5

Vintage Japanese doll photo set #6

And for those who like to make their own… I have a very few arms and feet left in stock. These would also be good for restoring old dolls, but I’ve heard customers tell me they’ve used them for mixed media art or other doll making projects. The arms have wire in them to allow for a variety of poses, and the feet have a space between the big toe and other toes so that tabi and geta may be worn.

Japanese cloth doll arm and feet

More sets are being assembled this week, so if you have requests, please let me know.

I  had also assumed that it was of European origin, and that may well be the case, at least according to Wikipedia:

An understanding of the etymology of the word is useful in deciphering the confusions surrounding its usage. The word arabesque is French, borrowed by English, the French term itself being derived from the Italian word arabesco, which first appeared in Italian literature in 1546.^[2] The Italian word uses the Latin derived “inceptive” or “inchoative” word ending “-esco” signifying a beginning, thus ferveo, to boil and fervesco to begin to boil. The creation of this word in inceptive form in cinquecento Italy strongly suggests that the form was then believed, quite wrongly as will be seen, to have had its beginning in “Arabia”, which term was then probably used to signify any near-oriental land, including those of the Byzantine Empire.

So… the term comes from Italy, is French, and is used to describe designs from an exotic foreign culture? From the Wiki page on the Islamic Arabesque:

Over the following centuries the three terms grotesque, moresque and arabesque were used largely interchangeably in English, French and German for styles of decoration derived at least as much from the European past as the Islamic world, with “grotesque” gradually acquiring its main modern meaning, related more to Gothic gargoyles and caricature than to either Pompeii-style Roman painting or Islamic patterns. Meanwhile the word “arabesque” was now being applied to Islamic art itself, by 1851 at the latest, when John Ruskin uses it in The Stones of Venice.^[23] Writers over the last decades have attempted to salvage meaningful distinctions between the words from the confused wreckage of historical sources.

Aha, I didn’t know that about grotesque, either. Interesting. At any rate, compare the haori above with this Arabic panel from Samarkand and note the design elements in both:

But wait, there’s more: Traditional Arabesque: Textile Design II by Yoshimoto, Kamon, and what appears to be an earlier work by the same author, Pictorial Book of Japanese Arabesque Patterns both showcase a selection of Japanese textiles with this delicate scrollwork (and are now on my ever-growing book wish list).

To complicate linguistic matters further, here’s the Japanese for “arabesque” from JAANUS (emphasis added):

An abbreviation of karakusamon 唐草文, lit. Chinese grass motif. Often used interchangeably with *karahanamon 唐花文, or lit. Chinese floral motif. A foliage-scroll pattern seen on textiles and crafts including ceramics, metal work, and lacquerware as well as sculptural and architectural detailing. Although the term refers to floral and plant motifs introduced to Japan from China, most of the motifs originated in Central Asia, India, Persia, and Arabia. Some came from as far west as Greece and Egypt. The patterns are generally characterized by a flower-and-leaf motif linked by continuous, repetitive, scrolling vines or tendrils.

In summary, when used to describe Arabic design, “arabesque” may denote geometric OR curvilinear designs of Arabic origin. Used to describe Japanese art, it is reserved for curvilinear art and often includes floral motifs.

In Japanese terms, this textile exhibits a combination of shibori and sashiko; I am unfamiliar with what these would be called in Indian textile design. The line dividing the red/orange and silver/gray is meant to be noticed, not hidden neatly, yet the stitched lines delineating it are quite clear. Everything about the stitching is neat and orderly, but the dye work is bold and simplistic. The juxtaposition is well executed and quite delightful.

Can you imagine wearing something so graceful, and with such amazing details? Modern saris are beautiful as well, but the subtle colors of this older example are so different from today’s bright, sparkling, beaded and sheer (sometimes neon!) saris.

Note: if you are unable to view the slideshow, please let me know and I will post still photos as well.

Flowers, Dragons, & Pine Trees: Asian Textiles in the Spencer Museum of Art by Mary M. Dusenbury, Hudson Hills Press, 2004

This is a hefty, coffee table-sized book filled with color photos, maps, and a wide selection of textile items from the Spencer Museum of Art at the University of Kansas, Kansas City, Missouri. The original collection of Asian textiles was a gift from Sallie Casey Thayer in 1917. Since that time the museum has continued to add to the collection, which has now grown to an impressive catalog of items from all over Asia, including South Asia (India, Pakistan and Kashmir), Iran, China, and Japan. Broken up into regional sections, the book examines individual items and their history, accompanying each with several color photographs.

As a reference guide, this book would be useful for those researching textiles ranging from Imperial Chinese court robes (chao fu and long pao), historical examples of embroidery (the gold couching examples are particularly beautiful), Japanese stencil making, priestly vestments (including the Japanese kesa), Kashmir shawls, Persian carpets, and all manner of gorgeous textiles, most produced prior to the 20th century. Essays for each geographical section cover these and other topics, many of which I’ve found quite useful. Each section is heavily footnoted.

The cover price is $65-75, but I have seen it for much less online. My copy was purchased on sale through Paragon Books, a favorite resource for books on Asian art, history and culture.

One day I went for my regular kimono-research fix, but the books were nowhere to be found. Had they been checked out? Moved? Retired? I panicked. The reference librarian reassured me that they had only been checked out, and asked if I’d looked for copies of my own from an online book retailer. Considering that they had never been issued for retail sale but only donated to public libraries, I had assumed that wasn’t possible. “Of course it’s possible,” the reference librarian told me with a smile. “What do you think we do with all the books that are retired from libraries? We sell them, one way or another.” Ooooh. Aha.

And so the search began. It had a rocky start as I tracked down a very few copies and found prices ranged from the hundreds for single volumes to thousands for the entire eight volume set. Finding volumes 1 and 2 from one dealer, I contacted her to verify the cost (the listing was vague, was it for one book or both?) and how soon she could ship, only to be told she could no longer locate the books and had possibly sold them already. The next dealer on my list raised his price shortly after I first found his listing, and I could no longer afford the cherished books. I kept my eyes open for a pair at a reasonable price for another year, and finally landed a set thanks to a generous tax refund. Thank you, Uncle Sam.

The set originally came with all eight books in slipcases and included a few VHS videos to complement the series. As I haven’t own a VCR in years, I had no interest in the videos, although I did check them out from the library and watch them on a borrowed VCR just so I’d know what I was missing. Watching a Nishijin silk weaver at work is impressive, as is hearing the swish-clack-clack, swish-clack-clack of the shuttle and loom. Seeing oversized, full color images of the finished product isn’t half bad though, so I won’t complain about a lack of video reference, especially as there are several good videos available on YouTube featuring such information in both English and Japanese.

If you are a kimono or craft fanatic and would like to see these for yourself, ask at your local library. If they do not have any copies on hand, ask for an interlibrary loan, either from another library in your area, or from a college or university library. If you would prefer to own some copies for yourself, ask around. It’s possible to find them on Amazon and Alibris from time to time, and once they are retired from circulation, libraries do sell them off by the volume or by the set.