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My indigo-dyed kimono and the ritual of loving my clothes - part 2

It's a hassle, but hey - what pretty thing isn't? We all have that "WTF you go through all that trouble?" thing in our lives, here's mine: 1. Tools and ingredients Back in my martial arts days, I read somewhere that the best way to wash hakama trousers was in a bathtub - so you could lay it flat and not disturb all the pleats, filled with cold water and lots of salt. I don't have a bathtub, which doesn't make a difference in this case, and I still need to check the science behind adding salt to prevent colour fading. But I guess it doesn't damage the fabric. In theory, the best cleaning agent for clothes is water, lots of...

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My indigo-dyed kimono and the ritual of loving my clothes - part 1

Considering how popular my post about repairing my 90-year-old fireman jacket is, it's been missed opportunity not making one about my very first indigo darling: If I can't be a show-off when I'm alone in my studio, then what's the point of dressing up? Yes, there's my vicious cycle of laziness and overthinking whenever I have an idea for a new article. But truth is: I haven't worn this kimono in over a year! First there was lockdown; then it was Summer and it was too hot; then it got cold and I just wanted to be in fleecy pyjama pants all day, then lockdown again... I don't know, I wasn't in the kimono mood, at least not my antiques since they're heavy, they're fragile,...

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The non-influencer kimono

Trend alert! East meets West: style this polyester Zara robe with oversized florals over classic blue jeans, basic tee and heels to get that influencer look  who woke up like this: professionally coiffed, with natural makeup using 12 different products. Nope. Gone are the days when I dreamed of being that gal, so overly produced to make cheap Fast Fashion seem as expensive as the original runway look. But just because I have no patience for over-edited "effortless glamour" doesn't mean I'm sloppy. The Zen monk workwear  Can't be sloppy in a Buddhist temple. You'd better keep your dignified manners even during Samu, aka your daily grind of cleaning, chopping wood, plucking weeds in the garden, cooking, doing the dishes… because everyday chores aren't any...

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Before I was a magical girl

One of my favourite Google searches is this: Of course I love all the signature magical girl looks, but it's refreshing to see they're fabulous even without the fancy costumes. I think a part of us goes through life waiting for that moment, but what if the cosmic kitty never shows up? What if you never find the magical book, never receives the letter from Hogwarts…?  Or never even get to do your dream job, live your dream romance, go on your dream holiday, to be more literal. Is life still meaningful even if I seem condemned to the mundane?

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Bedroom queen

When did I stop being fabulous? Was it at the same time I realised that, actually, I was kind of a big dork?  But when was that again? And why did it even matter?  Even after taking a long break last year to do my own "intensive depression rehab", I still don't have those answers - thank God. As I slowly get back to life as usual (or as "usual" as possible, in covid times), I'm happier to revisit the things I liked but left behind, than to dig out flawed memories of which cousin mocked me first. And just like I concluded I wasn't into Pokémon GO - despite being so into the anime I memorised the original 150 like it...

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