Japanese Wedding Part I: "A long, long way down the aisle"

Two autumns ago my Japanese husband and I finally tied the knot, and challenged the cultural obstacles of international marriage. Before our wedding, a Shinto wedding that was so traditional that even most of the Japanese guests hadn't experienced it before, the preparations were many and stretched over several months.

 The first challenge was to find a "shiromuku", a white bridal kimono outfit, and an "ironaoshi" kimono coat, a colored kimono, all which would fit me. Being a westerner I had both quite more height and width compared to the average Japanese woman, which turned out to be a bit of a challenge. After several hours of fitting, I basically had tried on almost every kimono in stock, and the three tiny Japanese women assisting me seemed completely exhausted and ready to throw in the towel any minute. Miraculously they finally found a white and a red kimono that were big enough, and saved the bride of a nervous breakdown already in the first round.

My husband wore "hakama", a bridal kimono for men, which is a less complicated outfit both to put on and to walk around in, so his preparations were more or less finished after one fitting. For me on the other hand a long studious journey had just begun. The next on the list was to find the right wig, as the bride has to wear one in a Shinto wedding. I have to admit that I was a bit skeptical at first. I mean wearing a wig is to me normally something you do at carnivals. I couldn't help worrying that I would look ridiculous since I'm not Japanese. However, when I eventually put it on it was scary how nicely it fitted me. The first wig I tried on was the old type, made of real hair and heavy. I thought a 2 kilos wig would be a piece of cake, but as my neck cramped up only after 5 minutes, I finally chose a new and lighter instead. It was arranged with lots of hair ornaments, so it was actually heavy enough. On top of it all I was to wear a "wataboushi", a hood that functions as veil. There is also a type called "tsunokakushi", basically meaning a hat to hide one's horns. I chose the former though, as it is the most traditional, and since I didn't feel that I had anything to hide.

The third big task was learning how to walk around with the kimono on, without tripping and making a fool of myself. This part of the preparations was the most nerve-wracking. The bridal-kimono outfit is actually three layers of kimono that are strapped up to your body, heavy, and steaming hot. It took three women to dress me. First they put on a "nagajuban", an underwear kimono. As there shouldn't be any gap between the waist and the chest, several towels were wrapped tightly around my torso. Over a white kimono added with an obi, kimono belt strapping it all down, and lastly on top of it all a lavish 100% silk kimono coat. I felt almost cocooned and had to walk with baby-steps and watch every footstep very carefully. The fear of failing this on the big day eventually became such a scare that I even had nightmares about it. In the dreams I tripped over on my way into the shrine, in the fall the wig went flying and landed on my mother-in-law's head. What a way to meet the family. In Japan one often doesn't meet the family and relatives of one's marriage partner before the wedding, making the performance on that day really vital to future relations. As I only had met my husband's closest family, and even only a few of his friends, I basically had to meet more than 40 people for the first time at the wedding, which only added even more tension to already frayed nerves. The closer it got, the more nervous I became.

I practiced walking, how to hold my hands, and even smiling. One is not supposed to open the mouth when smiling as a bride in a Shinto ceremony, and is in general supposed to be very subtle in all actions, something that was quite difficult to do, due to my talkative and slightly bubbly nature. Thus every centimeter of my movements was directed, rehearsed, and memorized. "'Shun, ready, steady, go! Here comes the bride!"