I was melancholic about this for weeks. I felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart. No one understood my pain.

My favorite online kimono (and Japanese antiques) store (self-styled as a Kimono Flea Market) is closing down!! They became just one more victim of the coronavirus pandemic, although apparently the writing had been on the wall for a long time. A few years ago they first started listing "Kimonotte" items — their line of new kimono and obi featuring made-to-order prints and designs. It was their attempt to "modernize" the business. But it never took off in a way to save it 😔

I never bought anything from Kimonotte because the items were relatively expensive. I had always gone for their vintage stuff anyway: the older the better. I was really into anything they could date to Taisho (1912-1926) and Meiji (1868-1912) eras, the golden years for traditional Japanese clothing. Culturally, Japanese people value modernity and often reject vintage and secondhand goods, which means all the more for foreigners like me. I was also really into anything from the Geiko/Maiko cultural sphere. Ichiroya occasionally listed kanzashi (hair accessories), kimono, obi, haneri (collars), and obiage owned by Maiko and Geiko, and I always snatched those up whenever I could. My most prized kimono is a beautiful hikizuri (stage kimono) owned by a Geiko. Ichiroya's headquarters, located in Osaka, provided proximity to Kyoto's Geiko and Maiko scene, which undoubtedly helped them acquire so many treasured items.

The best part about Ichiroya is the people who work there. Ichiro, Yuka, Mari, and others at Ichiroya are traditional Japanese culture and textile experts. They truly embody the "underpromise, overdeliver" mantra, so buying items from them sight-unseen has never felt like a risk. They don't claim that pieces are from the Meiji era just because it looks very old. So many items from other kimono stores are listed as "early Showa" or "Meiji" yet are clearly mid-century pieces. Like Western styles, kimono have very distinctive fingerprints that make it possible for experts to trace them to a single decade. For example, the reddish-orange lining of Meiji-era kimono gave way to a pure red when aniline dyes were introduced in Japan in the late 19th century. Identifying markers like family crests also shrank in size in the early 20th century as modesty became a virtue.

I wrote Ichiroya a final letter and placed a few final orders. Many things went on sale, so I purchased a few things I had been watching for a long time. Maybe too many. I also hesitated on a few things and got heartbroken when they sold. Of course, they graciously responded to my letter, like they always have. I will miss them. It's truly the end of an era.

Dear Ichiro-san, Yuka-san, Yoko-san, Mari-san, and others at Ichiroya,

I am so sad to hear that you are closing. I was sad for many days when I heard the news. Ichiroya is the only place I buy kimono and other Japanese antiques because you are always honest, considerate, thoughtful, and professional.

Ichiroya has brought so much joy to my life, and I always looked forward to your new listings every day. In my time zone, you always list your new items around 4:30 PM. I know this because I am always waiting at my computer to check the updates 🙂 It must be a lot of hard work. You write about the items with such detail and consideration, and you photograph the items so precisely, that I have learned many lessons about Japanese culture and history through reading your listings alone.

Through your site, I have grown to love Japanese culture. I even took a kitsuke/kimono dressing class with a Japanese teacher to learn how to wear kimono. I hope you will still be on Instagram and social media, so we can still communicate to you how much we love your kimonos all over the world, now and forever.

Here is a photo of me wearing a kimono, obi, obijime, and juban purchased from Ichiroya 🙂


I hope you will be proud of the business you have built and have no regrets. I wish you best of luck in any of your future endeavors. Please stay safe and healthy with your family.

Best,
Jeniko

—

Dear Jeniko-san

Hello. How are you doing? Thank you for your kind message!
We feel so privileged to know wonderful customer as you.
Thank you for sending us a beautiful picture of yourself. The kimono looks beautiful on you!
We are very happy to hear that our company brought joy to your life. It means a lot to us.

Unfortunately, we won't be able to continue posting on Instagram.
We appreciate your understanding.

Thank you again for your support for a long time.
Please take good care of yourself!
With best wishes.

Ichiro & Yuka Wada
Kimono Flea Market "ICHIROYA"

It was a season that threatened to neutralize 23 years of hard work and 4 years of non-stop preparation since the previous Winter Olympic Games in Sochi.

Everything that could have gone wrong in the last four years, did. Yuzuru skated with injuries to the head, injuries to both feet and legs. He delayed much-needed stomach surgery to skate, and then skated with infected stitches in his abdomen. He skated with the hunger and passion of someone who desperately wanted to become Olympic champion, except he already was. That he approached it all this way was nothing short of a testament to his incredible will to win and love of the sport, in a way that is hard to fathom, until you realize that since the last man won back-to-back titles in 1948 and 1952, only two men's Olympic champions have even shown up to defend their titles, and both skipped the preceding quadrennial. Neither was successful.

It goes to show how strong the pull of resting on the laurels of being an Olympic Champion must be. Yet Yuzuru showed up to every single competition, Challenger events and Grand Prix Series alike, won a record consecutive four Grand Prix Finals, became the World champion twice (and silver medalist two other times), and broke the world record score in the short, free, or combined programs a total of 12 times (8 times since Sochi).

Even though his 2+3 quad programs, which scored 219.48 at the 2015 Grand Prix Final, were seemingly unreachable even by younger jumpers with 7 or 8 quads, Yuzuru didn't feel content to rely on his deserved GOE and PCS advantages: in the 2016-2017 season, he added the quadruple Loop (becoming the first man ever to land one), and then he added the quadruple Lutz.

The quadruple Loop became a bit of a cherished superstition amongst fans: the last two men to win consecutive Olympic titles were Karl Schafer and Dick Button, who landed the first double and triple Loops respectively.

It was the quadruple Lutz that threatened to derail everything. He had a bad landing on one in practice while skating with a fever, and tore ligaments on both sides of his right ankle. He had to withdraw from the NHK Trophy, ending his bid to win five straight GPF titles, and then later successively withdrew from Nationals and the Olympic Team Event.

It was November 2017, so tantalizingly close to the Olympics, yet so far. Everything seemed to have finally fallen into place for Yuzuru: he regained his World title on the third try; he landed his first quadruple Lutz at the Rostelecom Cup; he broke the world record at his first competition; he was finally healthy, fit, and ready. He even felt healthy enough to skate all stops of Fantasy on Ice during the summer, a luxury that he has not had recently after long seasons of accumulating career-threatening injuries. And, last but not least, his biggest rivals weren't skating up to expectations by any means (the 2017 Grand Prix Final was the worst-skated Grand Prix Final of the last five years). It couldn't have been a more perfect opportunity, yet fate was ever so determined to make sure that Yuzuru's path to his dreams could not be easy.

Yuzuru Hanyu's injury drew hysterical despair from his fans (including yours truly), whose obsession with the skater was profiled in the Sunday sports section of the New York Times. The injury also drew haphazardly concealed optimism from Yuzuru's rivals — most notably, NBC Sports, who paid $12 billion dollars to broadcast the Olympics until 2032, a hefty investment they doubled down on by heavily promoting an inexperienced but talented hometown hero with a now extremely good chance of gold. Commercials (including a Super Bowl ad) were shoved down viewers' throats like cough medicine, and op-eds churned out American-centric propaganda that would have put the KGB to shame.

But the one man who never took his eyes off of gold was Yuzuru. Sitting at home in Toronto, unable to even put weight on his foot without crutches, Yuzuru spent entire days visualizing himself competing, reading research papers, and doing high-intensity off-ice exercises to ensure that he would stay competition ready. At one point, his doctor told him that there was nothing else he could do to heal his ankle faster, so Yuzuru started to take painkillers in order to skate again.

He’s used to trusting his training, what he had in the bank. But he had nothing in the bank. So it was trust his spirit, and it was a neat way to approach it at the end.” 

— Brian Orser
Hanyu’s path to 2nd Olympic gold was paved with patience, Washington Post

Yuzuru would later reveal that he skated on an injured ankle, a heavy cocktail of painkillers, and only 2 weeks of practice training quads. However, watching his performances, it was impossible to tell. He skated with the mind of an artist, the heart of a warrior, and the transcendent beauty and grace of an angel. And the inimitable strength of the one and only Yuzuru Hanyu.

His short program, Chopin Ballade No. 1, is absolutely the greatest choreographed program in history. Yet it looks so intrinsic that it almost doesn't feel performed at all. Yuzuru reaches deep inside to fuel his introverted style of expression, but as the program develops, we're given a window into his soul, and it is filled with the brightest dancing colors. Like any masterpiece of art, it is a program that reflects the viewer's soul and fills you with a feeling of understanding, like a fleeting glance during which everyone else in the 10,000-capacity arena ceased to exist.

Seimei, his long program, brought out a different skater. During the 6-minute warmup, he seemed undecided on his layout: He tried first a quadruple Loop and popped it into a single. Then he tried it again and succeeded. Then he came around short-side of the rink where I was sitting and tried the quadruple Salchow four times, landing one and barely losing the landing on the other three. The tension was clearly on, and the surprisingly relaxed Yuzuru was replaced with a familiar Yuzuru of murderous intensity.

His long program showed his incredible physical strength. He was able to land three perfect quads and hold on to a fourth, all on a battered ankle, with less than three weeks of training, and likely no full free skate run-through since November. But what the long program put on brilliant display, under the ultimate international spotlight, was his mental fortitude. Sure, his speed across the ice did not have the zip and bite that it usually has. He noticeably takes care to nurse his painful ankle, and his Loop and Lutz jumps (the jumps that hurt his ankle the most) were smaller and more hesitant than usual. But he landed all of his jumps, saved all of two mis-landings, and was finally able to defeat the demon that haunted him for all these years. He won against the loud media interests that tried to tear him down in the few months he couldn't defend himself, at the toughest Olympics in history, while holding on to an inch of his life. But most of all, he won against himself.

In that very brief moment, Yuzuru's adrenaline-filled, beaming face, his triumphant roar, and his emblem — both index fingers lifted in his trademark "I am Number One" sign — became the defining image of these Olympic Games. Because no one embodied the Olympic motto — "Faster, Higher, Stronger" — better than Yuzuru Hanyu.