À la recherche du temps perdu/To alter, or not to alter — a matter of judgmen

Once undone, the work of those who came before disappears.

A brown mawata tsumugi.An everyday garment, sewn by a seamstress of the Fushimi household for her own son.It is not a fine or luxurious piece. Yet the care embedded in ordinary handwork from the past is immediately apparent. More than anything, it carries the trace of a woman’s hands—hands shaped by years of service within the Imperial Household. That alone makes it a rare garment.

It was given to me by a friend of my mother, for my own son.Her mother was the seamstress herself.

Receiving something so close to a keepsake felt almost intrusive.And yet, the desire to see the handwork with my own eyes—its quiet precision, its decisions—was irresistible. I accepted it with gratitude.

Ah, even here, a stitch was placed.Here, the thread was tied firmly.So this is where she chose to secure it.

I could alter it and remake it for my son to wear.It is entirely possible.

But instead, I chose to keep it as my textbook.Because once it is undone, the work of those who came before disappears.