After buying a boro scarf at a Tokyo flea market I wanted to learn more about the scruffy, stylish fabric. I pulled at a loose thread and unraveled an interesting tale going back hundreds of years.
Boro was born of forgotten values of ‘mottainai’ or ‘too good to waste’. An idea dangerously lacking in the modern consumer lifestyle.
The charm of boro is not only the indigo shades and shabby street chic, or even its eco-friendliness. Sewn together over generations, family sagas are woven through the threads. click below to read on…
Boro is the clothing that was worn by peasants, merchants or artisans in Japan from Edo up to early Showa (17th – early 19th century). In feudal times, the majority were peasant farmers. Not everyone could afford the lavish silk kimono and vivid obi worn by the aristocracy. Clothes were crafted from cheaper materials, but were no less beautiful than those worn by the upper classes.
Literally translated as rags or scraps of cloth, the term boro is also used to describe clothes and household items which have been patched-up and repaired many times.
Once clothing was made, it would be maintained throughout the owner’s lifetime, or perhaps even longer.
Cotton was scarce in Japan, but hemp was abundant. Hemp would be homespun and woven into beautiful patterns. Cotton could be woven through the hemp fabrics to make it warmer.
The beauty of boro fabric is the highly sophisticated sewing and weaving techniques used by the women who made it. For peasant families, each garment would last long enough to be passed down through generations. Daily use would require frequent repair.
The pattern woven into the fabric of these trousers is known as hishizashi. Women would invent their own designs and compete with friends.
Household boro textiles give an intriguing insight into the lifestyle of the times. The whole family would lay on one futon.
Made up of scraps of old clothes over generations, the timeline of the family could be traced along its seams.
I am fascinated by the donja (below). It is a very large, and extremely heavy sleeping coat. Today, we might think this to inappropriate, but parents and children would sleep naked together inside it. Wrapped in layer upon layer of boro scraps and wadding, shared body heat would protect them from the dangerously cold winter.
The bodoko (below) is translated as ‘life-cloth’. On a daily basis, it was a bed sheet. However, it was also used when giving birth.Women would hang from ropes fastened to the ceiling and kneel on the bodoko. Layers of rags worn by ancestors would be the first thing the baby would touch.

Boro is a practical, utilitarian and cheap fabric. Each boro item is by its very definition, absolutely unique.
Now, it is valued as art and has become highly collectible. Boro uses everything and wastes nothing. The ‘beauty of practicality’ or ‘Yuyo-no-bi’ is a concept all but forgotten in today’s consumer society.
Should things be made merely to look at? To admire Boro is to appreciate practicality as an aesthetic aspect. Boro shows us the value of time spent, not money. Unfortunately, it also highlights the wastefulness of modern lifestyles. It sounds harsh but; boro also points out the comparative uselessness of some other forms of art we admire.
Boro makes me think about the richness of family history and ways it might be documented. A photo album speaks for itself, but a quilt of generations is a source of family legends, an endless bedtime story.
Boro reminds me to appreciate the value of spare time, something we often waste away along with our old clothes.
Next time you have free time and you are wondering how to spend it, don’t pick up your new smart phone, or turn on the TV.
Pick up something old and unused and see if you can make something useful. You never know, it may turn into something beautiful, perhaps even a family heirloom.
Take a look at the FurugiStar shop here.
(Except the first one, the photos are my own which were taken at the Amuse Museum Boro Exbibition, Tokyo, 2011. The exhibition featured the collection of Chuzaburo Tanaka. It is now closed but the link is available here )



July 11th, 2011 at 3:33 pm
I really enjoyed this post. I so want one of those Boro scarves. They remind me of vintage Indian Kantha scarves that are made from saris passed down from the women who wore them. Love the Indigo, my favorite color. Really beautiful!
July 11th, 2011 at 11:52 pm
Thank you! I love indigo, too. Are you involved with textiles at all?
I focus mainly on Japanese antique indigo in my shop FurugiStar. Although, I am interested in Indian dye techniques, too. I have found great videos online about indigo dyeing in India and I am planning to blog about it soon.
I am afraid I have sold the original scarf I wrote about. I have other antique indigo items – take a look if you are interested.
http://www.etsy.com/shop/FurugiStar
I will soon be listing boro kasuri koshi maki (ikat cotton kimono underskirts), great to wear in summer!
Thanks again for your comment
March 10th, 2012 at 10:19 pm
[...] it across even the wealthiest of homes. In contrast, Japan’s own patchwork-like needlecraft, known as boro, began as peasant clothing, worn by the lowest class of 17th-century Japan. Similar to the [...]
March 11th, 2012 at 11:53 pm
A beautifully well written piece, Thank you I didn’t know one bit about this history until I read this and I loved it and your take on something we can learn from history was well put, not patronising or preachy…………you should do this writing lark for a living!! cheers Susan..xx
April 11th, 2012 at 4:14 am
Thank you so much for your kind words, Susan! They are very much appreciated. My blog posts are few and far between, but your comment has motivated me and I will be publishing another post soon
I hope you enjoy it! All the best, xx
April 26th, 2012 at 4:47 am
Hello – thanks for the comment at my blog – and I am glad you left the link there! I think I came across your blog when I was googling about boro – but bleary-eyed, so I’m happy to now come back in a more relaxed manner. I am also going to go look at your etsy shop. It must have been wonderful to see the Tanaka collection in person.
May 21st, 2012 at 12:47 am
[...] have a box full of these little embroideries. Modern boro that has been started and not finished. A constructed skirt that was started but put to one side [...]
June 12th, 2012 at 8:26 pm
[...] ( boro ) Share this:Like this:LikeBe the first to like this post. [...]
June 13th, 2012 at 3:54 am
Looks like you have been busy. Love the indigo blues in your photos. Thank you for the link to my blog
I love boro and I am always on the look out for it in Japan. Anything I find I list in my shop along with other Japanese textiles and antiques. I hope you don’t mind if I pass on the shop link:
http://www.etsy.com/shop/FurugiStar
July 23rd, 2012 at 8:15 pm
[...] to linen, though is often made from hemp. They were dyed this great indigo and patched together (read an excellent article describing the history of Boro HERE). A beachy stripe covers the back side of the [...]
July 23rd, 2012 at 8:19 pm
Fab article. I just found pillows made out of Boro at an interior design shop. I did a post about the shop and linked your article for those that wanted to know more. I’m obsessed with the deep indigo hues and stories behind this fabric.
http://burlapanddenim.com/2012/07/seaside-interiors-shopping-with-burlap-denim/
August 2nd, 2012 at 9:02 pm
Thank you so much for the link – very much appreciated. Sorry for the delay in my response, I am away at the moment. Reopening my shop in the next few days and will be back on the search for more boro. Hope I can find some you like
Thanks again and all the best in your future creative endeavors!
October 22nd, 2012 at 7:00 pm
[...] Boro is the Japanese art of mending, “literally translated as rags or scraps of cloth, the term boro is also used to describe clothes and household items which have been patched-up and repaired many times.” -Furujistar [...]
October 23rd, 2012 at 1:30 am
Hello,
thank you for linking to my post
please could you correct the spelling of my shop name: FurugiStar.
Thank you in advance!
Steph
March 13th, 2013 at 11:12 am
[...] aching for all his DIY and upcycled projects, like his indigo patchwork sofa. It reminds me of Japanese Boro textiles from the 19th century. It’s absolutely beautiful. I love that everything in his home feels [...]
March 25th, 2013 at 8:43 pm
[...] little scrap. That, and the fact that I hate to send the remnants to landfill. This is where boro is so appealing. Boro is patching, reusing, and recreating fabric. Old fabrics come together to [...]
March 27th, 2013 at 10:31 am
Thank you for your post, it was fascinating. I think the idea of respecting something because it has already proven it’s use, and not disregarding it because it isn’t brand new is a concept well worth aspiring to.
March 28th, 2013 at 1:41 am
Thank you, Elizabeth. I’m glad you enjoyed it.