Denim, that All-American fabric, is taking on a distinctly Japanese identity in the town of Kojima, where the main road is aptly named Jeans Street, adorned with real pairs of pants fluttering overhead like flags. This southwestern seaside hub in Okayama Prefecture has become a sacred destination for denim enthusiasts, drawing fans from around the globe. Even the soda vending machines at the train station are emblazoned with images of jeans, and the roads are painted blue, with pink and white lines resembling the seams of Kojima’s iconic jeans.
The town boasts around 40 jeans manufacturers and stores, including denim-themed cafes, attracting approximately 100,000 visitors annually, according to the Japan National Tourism Organization. Japanese jeans are known for being high-end, dark, and durable, carving out a niche in the global market with their reputation for exceptional craftsmanship. Kojima is the birthplace of renowned brands like Big John, which dates back to the 1940s, and today supplies international fashion giants such as Gucci.
“The Japanese industry has established a way of looking at denim from a much more connoisseurship and collecting approach than a mass marketing one,” says Emma McClendon, an assistant professor of fashion studies at St. John’s University in New York.
However, those expecting the glamour of a fashion capital in Kojima might be disappointed. Jeans Street is quaint and uncrowded, with each company employing relatively small teams of around 100 people. What stands out here is the pride in “monozukuri,” the art of making things, signifying a meticulous attention to detail. This ethos is deeply rooted throughout Japan, from major car manufacturers to local tofu shops.
“More like making a kimono” is how Yoshiharu Okamoto, a dyeing craftsman at Kojima-based Momotaro Jeans, describes the process. With hands and nails tinged blue from repeatedly dipping threads of Zimbabwean cotton into vats of dye, Okamoto gauges the indigo’s readiness by its smell and feel, likening it to a living being. “It’s not that easy to get this special color,” Okamoto said during a recent tour of the production facilities. “It’s my life.” The distinct dark indigo hue of Made-in-Japan denim, much of it originating from Kojima, is known as “Japan blue” or “tokuno blue,” translating to “especially concentrated blue.”
Jeans crafted in Kojima come at a premium, priced from a relatively affordable 33,000 yen ($230) per pair to those crafted by top artisans, which can sell for 200,000 yen ($1,400) or more. Thomas Stege Bojer, founder of the online denim site Denimhunters, notes that Japanese brands use “raw denim” that ages well and lasts a long time, aligning with the “slow clothing” movement that opposes fast fashion. “We just make too many clothes. The cycle is too fast, I think, and we need to slow down,” Bojer said from his home near Copenhagen, Denmark, where his walls are decorated with jeans.
McClendon adds that the Japanese industry is shifting the conversation around jeans to focus on heritage elements and educating consumers about historical details as markers of quality. For instance, Momotaro Jeans offers a lifetime warranty, fixing tears and other issues for free within reason. Japan Blue Co., which launched the Momotaro brand in 2006, reported annual sales of about 1.6 billion yen ($11 million) last year, with approximately 40% of their sales coming from outside Japan.
Craftsmen like Okamoto, loom specialist Shigeru Uchida, and sewing machine operator Naomi Takebayashi believe they possess unique skills that must be preserved and passed down to the next generation. Speaking while training a group of younger sewers, they highlight their special relationship with their machines, requiring daily adjustments based on the sounds they make. The vintage Toyoda looms, from the weaving company that eventually became Toyota, are difficult to source spare parts for. There is even a hand-operated loom used for products with a unique texture.
Masataka Suzuki, president and chief operating officer of Japan Blue, emphasizes that the region’s industrial history is a significant strength. This history is centered around sewing heavy fabrics, including military clothes and obi sashes for kimonos, as well as the cotton and indigo-dyeing native to the area. “We want to create a product that is a testament to a person’s life,” Suzuki said. The jeans, fading and creasing over time, tell the story of their wearer’s journey.
