When Naomi Osaka stepped onto Wimbledon’s Centre Court on Monday, she did not simply wear a kimono. She wore a labour of love stitched by women in Kyoto, a quiet protest against corporate sportswear giants, and a statement that even in the gilded world of tennis, the real economy matters.
Osaka’s custom Nike kimono, designed with Japanese motifs and hand-painted by artisans from the Nishijin textile district, has been hailed as a “tribute of love and respect to Japan”. But for those of us who watch the price of thread, it is also a tribute to the thousands of women who keep Japan’s traditional textile industry alive on wages that have not kept pace with inflation.
The kimono industry employs mostly older women in Kyoto, where the average textile worker earns £18,000 a year. That is below the UK’s median wage, and far below what a Premier League footballer earns in a week. These women stitch kimonos that sell for £10,000 or more, yet they struggle to heat their homes. Osaka’s gesture shines a light on that gap.
“When I wear this, I think of the hands that made it,” Osaka told reporters. She is right to think of them. But those hands need more than a thought: they need a living wage. The irony is not lost that Nike, a company with a history of factory disputes, is now the vehicle for this tribute. The same hands that stitched the swoosh have also been forced to strike for fair pay in Vietnam, Indonesia and Mexico.
Still, the kimono itself is a marvel. It took four weeks to make, with a pattern of waves and cherry blossoms that pay homage to Osaka’s Japanese heritage. The fabric is silk, the dye is natural, and every stitch is done by hand. It is the opposite of fast fashion. It is slow, deliberate, and expensive. And it is a reminder that the labour behind luxury is often invisible.
Osaka has been a vocal advocate for social justice. She has worn masks bearing the names of Black victims of police violence, and she has spoken out about mental health. This kimono is another layer of that activism. It says: don’t forget the people who make the things you wear. Don’t forget the regional economies that keep tradition alive.
In Japan, the kimono industry is in decline. Young people prefer Western clothes. The number of kimono makers has fallen by 80% in the past 30 years. Those who remain are ageing and underpaid. Osaka’s choice to wear a kimono on the world stage is a lifeline. It sparks interest, and maybe a few more orders. But interest does not pay the rent.
The real tribute to Japan would be a commitment from Nike and other brands to pay a fair price for that labour. It would be a promise that the women in Kyoto can afford to buy the kimonos they make. Until then, Osaka’s gesture is beautiful but hollow.
Meanwhile, in the stands of Wimbledon, the price of a cream tea has risen to £8.50. The cost of a ticket to Centre Court is £95 for groundling seats. The gap between the tennis elites and the women who stitch their clothes grows wider. Osaka knows this. She is trying to bridge that gap with thread.
But thread alone cannot mend a broken economy. It cannot pay for a pension or a child’s school uniform. It cannot heat a workshop in a Kyoto winter. What it can do is make us look. And when we look, we should see the hands.
