The first day of my buying trip began under heavy rain. The skies were gray, frogs were singing, and the steady rhythm of raindrops seemed to bring a peaceful focus to the day. Despite the downpour, the journey was absolutely worth it.
This visit was especially meaningful—it had been two years since I last saw the Takubo family, and arriving at their home felt like a reunion with dear friends. Time had passed, but their warmth hadn’t changed a bit. The moment we stepped inside, we were greeted with smiles, stories, and that unmistakable sense of belonging that always fills their home. It wasn’t just a visit—it felt like coming back to family.
My dear friend and photographer, Rie, flew in from Tokyo just for the day to join me. I’m so grateful for her presence—her support, her laughter, and the beautiful photographs she captured. Even though her visit was brief, having her there made all the difference.
We started driving early in the morning to meet the Takubo family. In our tradition, being late when visiting craftspeople is unthinkable, so we left well ahead of schedule. With the extra time, we stopped at one of my favorite places, Amanoiwato Shrine. The rain was still pouring, but the mist and fog wrapped the shrine in a spiritual atmosphere, making the visit feel even more special.
Unlike my last visit, when I could work alongside them outside, this time the heavy rain kept us indoors. At first, I was a little disappointed, but the indoor time brought a different kind of closeness. Tea breaks, carefully prepared by the family, carried warmth and comfort that filled the room and created a slower, more intimate rhythm.
The second generation of the Takubo straw company, Mr. Minoru Kai, the father was as cheerful and talkative as always. It’s such a joy to see him and share in his bright energy.
One of the most inspiring moments of the day was seeing a young craftsman who moved from Yokohama eight years ago to learn the Kai family’s craft. Watching him now, with skill and confidence in every movement, was proof of how dedication and time can transform someone into a true artisan.
I also had the chance to try making Shimenawa for the first time. After watching the craftsman’s demonstration, I attempted it myself—and quickly realized how difficult it actually is. What looks like a serene and simple process requires real technique and strength. With a lot of guidance, I managed to complete one—not bad for a beginner!
Lunch was a beautifully prepared bento, which felt extra cozy against the backdrop of rain. As we ate together, Yoichiro, the third generation of the Takubo straw company, shared the family’s history and how their craft began.
Back in the old days, his great-grandparents were rice farmers. They first started weaving straw to make sturdy backpacks for carrying vegetables during the harvest. Before long, neighbors began asking them to make more, and little by little their skill grew. One day, the village mayor asked them to create New Year’s decorations—since their weaving was so admired. That request marked the beginning of their journey into making shimenawa straw decorations.
Still, even when Yoichiro was a child, it wasn’t easy for the family to make a living solely from this craft. Over time, he began designing straw decorations himself—always respecting the traditional, meaningful forms, but also giving them a modern touch to fit today’s homes. His passion for carrying on the family tradition while adding fresh ideas shines through every piece he creates.
One of my favorite moments was seeing the straw-softening machine come to life. It’s a unique contraption, built by the grandfather using an old rice-planting machine engine. Recently, they introduced a smaller, newer engine, so this might have been the last time I witnessed the original system in action. I’ll miss its rhythm and the history woven into every turn of the wheel.
Yoichiro, the third-generation artisan of the family, was working on a large commission for the local shrine. With more young apprentices joining recently, the studio has felt a little crowded, so he’s been moving into the showroom when he needs quiet and space to carefully count each straw for these large-scale works.
One piece that especially caught my eye was a stunning, oversized Noren. I would love to bring it home one day, but because of the delicacy of the material, it cannot be folded. Perhaps, with the right shipping company, I’ll find a way in the future!
Spending a full day with the Takubo family—reuniting after two years, and sharing time indoors while the rain poured outside—was a true gift. Thank you for welcoming us, for your stories, your patience, and your open hearts. Saying goodbye is never easy, but I know this isn’t the last time—I look forward to returning.
📸 Photograph credit: Rie Sugimoto – my dear friend since 1999
