米卡·罗斯—索撒尔文 徐红灯译

‘Fashions have changed， said the Japanese writer Ihara Saikaku in 1688. Certain shrewd Kyoto people have started to lavish every manner of magnificence on mens and womens clothes. By then， everyone in Japan was wearing a kimono. But it was the new， eye-catching， sumptuous ones wrapped around a flourishing breed of fashionistas that Saikaku was talking about. How to show off your wealth and status in Edo-era Japan？ Wear the latest kimono.

This was the starting point for the V&As exhibition Kimono： Kyoto to Catwalk， which opened， then hurriedly closed just days before the lockdown. Those of us lucky enough to catch it can tell you it wouldve been the museums summer blockbuster. A few tantalising images from the show are still on their website and the catalogue is available. Fawn over them as an antidote to your work-from-home jogging bottoms and hoodie.

The bolder the better for samurai. Their plush silk kimono—the oldest， and the first we come across in the show—are embroidered with elaborate and theatrical garden scenes， mountains， musical instruments， birds， insects and skulls. One vibrant kimono from around 1800 was dyed bright red with safflower. Another from around 1730 depicts a rural village surrounded by crisp snow and swathes of purple clouds. It was decorated using yūzen1： an innovative technique of rice paste lines， filled in with hand-painted dye. The effect is breathtaking.

Delicate patterns soon took over， as the newly-minted middle-class merchants found ways to get one up on the royals. Their styles might look humble and muted， but they were pricey to produce. Hanging in one corner of the exhibition is a feather-light summer kimono made out of grey gauze from 1850. Its only embellishments： open-weave chinks and a couple of pine trees and sand dunes， brushed on in barely-there sweeps.

Some trends were set by famous actors and high-ranking courtesans. When the actor Sanogawa Ichimatsu wore a black-and-white chequerboard obi2 tied around his kimono on stage in 1741， the audience rushed out of the theatre to buy one. In a hand-coloured wood-block print， dated a few years later， we see him glide out of an incense shop， his obi now paired with a chequered kimono.

Kimono could be playful and subversive， too. Embroidered on the shoulder blades and sleeves of one from 1750， which is scattered with gold， red， pink and cream maple leaves， are the words from a ninth-century poem by Bai Juyi. A popular fabric from around the same time features abstract Japanese characters and swirling symbols. Get a little closer and see the shapes spell the phrase ‘kamawanu3—‘I dont give a damn.

When Japan opened its borders in the late nineteenth century， most people put on western clothes so that they didnt appear out of touch. Men wore tailored suits. Women wore their kimono—if they were still wearing them—with fur stoles， gilded clutch bags， elbow-length gloves. Europe and America， though， fell in love with forme Japonaise4. Kimono were exotic， almost liberating. Certainly no sign of a corset. We find a striking black-and-white striped coat designed in the 1920s by Emilie Fl?ge， Gustav Klimts life-long companion， all billowing， asymmetrical sleeves and loose draping. Elsewhere， Yves Saint Laurents strapless cocktail dress and matching bolero5 jacket from the 1950s， made of orange silk brocade stamped with gold and silver pine leaves. Its puffball， quilted overskirt was reminiscent of the duvet-like kimono worn during fierce Japanese winters. And in his sugary lilac two-piece ‘La-La-San （2007） for Christian Dior， John Galliano triumphantly updates the iconic New Look6 silhouette with details from eighteenth-century kimono： a delicate ribbon obi at the cinched waist， opalescent embroidery and beading， wide sleeves with origami cuffs.

Then comes the costumes. If there was ever any doubt about how versatile this garment can be， look no further. The final room bursts at the seams with Obi-Wan Kenobis camel-coloured kimono from Star Wars， and Madonnas scarlet outfit by Jean Paul Gaultier for her music video ‘Nothing Really Matters： a mini-dress silk kimono with matching shorts， platform boots and a PVC obi. Fantasize about shimmying around your living room in David Bowies white satin tour costume from the 1970s， adorned with creeping black-ink vines and calligraphy. A couple of clichéd curatorial choices—clusters of bamboo canes; a soundtrack of wind chimes and trickling water—occasionally distracts us from whats going on. And every piece here， exquisite， enchanting， often surprising， deserves our attention. As the merchants put it 200 years ago with the word ‘iki7： subtlety is more stylish than showiness.

1688年日本作家井原西鶴说道：“时尚变了。”一些敏锐的京都人开始在男女式服装上极尽华丽。那时日本人人都穿和服。但西鹤所说的是那种穿在兴起的时装达人身上、时新抢眼又奢华的和服。在江户时代的日本，如何炫耀财富地位？答案是穿最时新的和服。

这是维多利亚与阿尔伯特博物馆（V&A）“和服：从京都到T台”展览的开端，该展在封城前几天匆匆闭展。我们这些有幸看过的人可以告诉你，这本可以成为该博物馆的夏季轰动大展。在博物馆的网站上，仍可看到展览中的一些诱人图片，展览目录也可查到。欣赏它们，以摆脱居家办公穿慢跑裤与连帽衫的单调。

对于武士来说，色彩越艳丽越好。他们的豪华丝绸和服——最为古老，也是我们在展览中首先见到的，绣着精致而壮观的园林景色、山岭、乐器、飞禽、昆虫和颅骨。一件1800年左右的艳丽和服用红花染成了鲜红色。另一件1730年左右的和服，其上描绘了被皑皑白雪和片片紫云围绕的村庄，由友禅技法染制而成。友禅染是一种创新技术，使用米浆描线，在线条间手工染色，印染效果惊艳绝伦。

新晋的中产阶级商人找到了超越王室的方法，精致的图案很快占据上风。图案款式或许看起来低调、淡雅，制作成本却非常昂贵。悬挂在展厅一角的是一件1850年的夏季和服，用灰色薄纱制成，轻如羽毛，其上仅有的装饰为稀松的裂纹、几棵松树和几座沙丘，淡淡的若有若无。

有些潮流是由著名演员和高级交际花引领的。……