Timeless and Borderless: The Enduring Value of Japanese Needlework and the Circular Spirit of Sashiko

Morikawa

I believe sashiko is attracting attention not only for its design appeal in fashion but also from a sustainability perspective. The trend is particularly strong in the UK. The country has a rich tailoring tradition, notably in areas like Savile Row, where master tailors are highly regarded, and there’s a deep appreciation for sewing techniques. For many, Japan's traditional repair methods — something rarely seen in Europe — feel fresh and inspiring from the perspectives of design, craftsmanship, and even spirituality.

Morikawa

No, that's not the case at all. Our in-store workshops attract a diverse range of participants, and I feel sashiko is being widely embraced by people from all walks of life.
In the UK, there's a popular reality show called “The Great British Sewing Bee”, which focuses on sewing. Sashiko was once featured on the show, and that exposure significantly raised its profile.
Recently, I've even met people who are familiar with highly specialized Japanese embroidery techniques — ones that even many Japanese people may not know about.

Morikawa

That's right. I believe one major reason is that the idea of cherishing old things is deeply rooted in European culture.
In Japan, there’s a tendency to place higher value on new items, with the perception that their value diminishes the more they’re used. The way property prices drop as soon as a house becomes “secondhand” is a clear reflection of this mindset.
In contrast, Europe has a strong cultural appreciation for antiques and older items. In the case of housing, it's been common practice to repair and maintain homes for over a century. The same goes for clothing — instead of replacing garments with new ones, people often repair and continue wearing a beloved jacket or find value in vintage clothing, passing older pieces down through generations.
At RE.UNIQLO STUDIO, in addition to sashiko repairs, we also remake clothing using techniques such as indigo dyeing and shibori (tie-dye), reselling these reimagined pieces.

Morikawa

Stitching white thread onto faded, tattered fabric — the beauty created through sashiko is quite different from the “glittering elegance” often associated with European aesthetics. In Japan, concepts like “wabi” and “sabi” capture the charm that emerges through aging and wear, and I believe this is what resonates as a “profound beauty” for many people overseas."
That said, sashiko was originally born out of practical necessity in everyday life. Beyond its visual appeal, I hope to share the cultural significance behind it — a story of resilience, mindfulness, and tradition that reflects Japanese values.

Morikawa

In May 2025, an event called “London Craft Week” will be held in London, and I’m planning to showcase works featuring Tsugaru Kogin-zashi, a traditional form of sashiko embroidery, as well as organize workshops with contemporary artists.
Tsugaru Kogin-zashi emerged during the long, harsh winters when people were confined indoors, and each region and family has its own distinctive patterns. In this sense, it shares similarities with Scotland’s tartan check, a traditional plaid pattern that represents family crests and cultural identity.
By sharing the cultural and historical background alongside the techniques and aesthetic appeal, I believe sashiko can reach and resonate with even more people.

Kubo

Tsugaru Kogin-zashi is a technique that emerged and evolved in the Tsugaru region of Aomori Prefecture, crafted by rural women from the late Edo period onward.
It involves stitching white cotton thread onto hemp fabric dyed in deep indigo, navy blue, or Hanada-iro (a pale blue shade). What sets this technique apart is the unique method of picking up odd-numbered weft threads (horizontal threads) and stitching the cotton thread along the weft. This intricate technique is so precise that first-time viewers often mistake it for woven fabric created on a loom.
Although Tsugaru Kogin-zashi declined around 1887–1892, it was revived during the 1930s alongside the rise of the Mingei (folk craft) movement. Today, it is recognized as a designated traditional craft of Aomori Prefecture.

Kubo

Tsugaru Kogin-zashi can be categorized into three types based on the region where it was created and its pattern composition: Nishi Kogin, Higashi Kogin, and Mishima Kogin.
There are currently around 40 basic patterns, which artisans combine to create various intricate designs. Notable examples include “Tekona”, a butterfly motif, and “Uma no Kutsuwa” (horse bit), believed to ward off evil spirits and venomous snakes.

Kubo

At the time, the Tsugaru domain imposed restrictions on the use of cotton for farmers. Since hemp fabric has poor insulation properties, it was not ideal for enduring the region's harsh winters. As a solution, people began stitching cotton thread onto hemp fabric to enhance warmth and reinforce the material — this is how Tsugaru Kogin-zashi originated.
As for why the distinctive geometric patterns emerged, that remains unclear. However, Tsugaru Kogin-zashi has a strict rule: the stitches must follow an odd-numbered thread count. This precise adherence to the rule is undoubtedly what creates the craft's remarkable beauty.

Kubo

Of course, the beauty of the designs and the remarkable techniques that create them are impressive. But what fascinates me even more are the slight deviations from the expected patterns. For example, in the “Tekona” butterfly motif, some pieces feature variations — fewer stitches at the top or extended stitches at the bottom. In some cases, you can even spot moments where the artisan seemed to have changed their mind mid-stitch, switching to a different pattern altogether. These subtle changes reveal the individuality and humanity of the maker, which I find incredibly captivating.
Women who once practiced Tsugaru Kogin-zashi have shared their thoughts on this craft. Statements like, “Above all, creating beautiful kogin embroidery was our greatest wish, and I didn't just stitch; I strived to create good patterns” (as recorded by Naomichi Yokoshima in Tsugaru Kogin) reflect how, amid harsh living conditions, stitching brought them a sense of joy and purpose.
When the Suntory Museum of Art held a Tsugaru Kogin-zashi exhibition in the past, it resonated particularly strongly with women in their 60s and 70s. Perhaps that’s because they could relate to the experience of finding comfort, clarity, and even salvation through the simple yet mindful act of working with their hands.

Kubo

We must also remember the mindset of the artisans — their dedication to preserving and cherishing these textiles through repeated repairs.
When sleeves or hems became frayed, they would cut them off and replace them with new fabric. Stained areas were redyed in indigo, and torn sections were reinforced with additional layers of stitching. In this way, the people of Tsugaru continuously found creative ways to care for and prolong the life of their Kogin-zashi pieces, treating them with great care and respect.

Kubo

There’s a saying in the Aomori region: “Never throw away a piece of fabric if it’s big enough to wrap three adzuki beans.” This phrase reflects how precious fabric once was — no scrap, no matter how small, was to be wasted. Tsugaru Kogin-zashi emerged within this cultural context, and many pieces in our collection bear traces of careful preservation and prolonged use. July 2nd 2025, our museum will open an exhibition showcasing our Tsugaru Kogin-zashi collection in its entirety. I truly hope visitors will take the opportunity to see these remarkable pieces up close.