As dusk falls and the drums begin to sound, the hem of a yukata (a light cotton summer kimono) sways softly. Yet that single piece of cloth was never originally meant to be worn in public — so how did the yukata, once just an undergarment worn after a bath, become the star of the summer festival? Let’s trace the slightly surprising story behind this one garment, from the origins of Bon Odori (a communal summer dance honoring ancestors) to the strikingly different attire found from region to region. By the time you finish reading, the familiar sights of summer festivals may look just a little different.

🌸 Quick Overview (For Those in a Hurry)

Bon Odori is a ritual for honoring ancestors, and its origins are not settled — there are several different theories. The yukata, indispensable to summer festivals, began as an undergarment-like robe worn after bathing, and only became outdoor wear from the Meiji era onward. Attire varies greatly by region — compare Akita, Gujo, and Awa and you’ll be surprised by the range. Today, you can enjoy summer festivals casually in whichever yukata you like.

Why Do People Dance at Bon Odori? Origins That Refuse to Settle on One Story

Bon Odori has taken root across Japan as a ritual for welcoming and honoring ancestors during Obon (a midsummer observance for ancestral spirits). But trace its beginnings, and the story refuses to run in a single straight line — there are several different theories about the origins of Bon Odori. One frequently cited theory traces it to odori nenbutsu (a dancing Buddhist chant), said to have been started by the mid-Heian-period monk Kuya and spread nationwide by the Kamakura-period monk Ippen. From there, Buddhist and Shinto beliefs are said to have blended together, gradually becoming more secular over time. Perhaps it’s precisely this refusal to settle on one single answer that gives Bon Odori its depth.

In the Muromachi period, furyu odori (an elaborate group dance) became popular, in which lavishly dressed people danced to drums, flutes, and bells. By the Edo period, Bon Odori had become even more widespread, especially in farming villages, and dances still performed today, such as Gujo Odori (a Bon dance in Gifu) and Awa Odori (the famous Bon dance of Tokushima), grew out of this era. That said, the excitement of large crowds gathering seems to have made those in power uneasy at times. Domains sometimes issued bans out of fear of uprisings, and during the Meiji era the dances were even cracked down on as disruptive to public order. Even so, the dancing never disappeared, and today Bon Odori festivals across the country are designated as juyo mukei minzoku bunkazai (an Important Intangible Folk Cultural Property) and the like. The very fact that it survived even after being banned speaks to how deeply rooted this dance is.

The Yukata Began as an “Undergarment”

Having traced the history of the dance, where, then, did the yukata swirling within that circle of dancers come from? This is where the biggest surprise lies. The yukata was originally never meant to be worn in front of others. Its roots lie in the yukatabira (a hemp bathing robe), worn by nobles to cover themselves in steam baths — essentially a garment made of asa (linen/hemp) for bathing.

It moved closer to being proper attire in the Edo period. As cotton fabric spread and public bathhouses (yuya) became a fixture of everyday life for ordinary people, they began wearing yukata after bathing. Around this time, the katazome (stencil dyeing) technique known as nagaita chugata (a stencil-dyeing method for yukata) came into wide use for yukata fabric, and cool-looking patterns dyed in indigo became popular. Eventually, “chugata” came to mean yukata itself. Then, from the Meiji era onward, sturdier, higher-quality yukata were made, and the yukata finally stepped out in public as outdoor wear. From undergarment to festive attire — the path the yukata has traveled is surprisingly free.

What’s interesting is that people were already going out in yukata even before it was officially recognized as outdoor wear. In the streets of Edo, heading out to Bon Odori or cherry-blossom viewing in matching yukata was considered a stylish pleasure. It’s said that ordinary people would eagerly copy the yukata patterns worn onstage by kabuki actors. Perhaps the impulse to imitate the style of someone we admire hasn’t changed at all, then or now. For more on sheer summer fabrics, see Ro, Sha, and Asa: The Cool Elegance Hidden in Sheer Kimono.

Bon Odori Attire Varies This Much by Region

Even though we speak of “yukata for Bon Odori,” the garment doesn’t look the same everywhere in the country. Attire varies greatly by region, even for the same Bon Odori. This individuality stands out especially in Japan’s three great Bon dances — Awa Odori, Gujo Odori, and Nishimonai Bon Odori (an elegant Bon dance in Akita). Line them up side by side, and the range is striking.

The Nishimonai Bon Odori in Akita is known for the beauty of its costumes. Dancers wear either the dignified hanui (a robe pieced from silk scraps), made from pieced-together scraps of silk, or an indigo-dyed kimono shared by men and women alike. Over this, they wear an amigasa (a woven straw hat) or a hikosa-zukin (a black hood that hides the face), dancing with their faces hidden throughout. This anonymous, expressionless dancing figure has a certain otherworldly, quietly powerful presence.

Gujo Odori in Gifu, by contrast, is remarkably relaxed. There are no rules about attire, and it’s perfectly fine to wear a T-shirt on top. The essence of the dance lies in clattering geta (wooden sandals) underfoot. Silk hanui pieced from scraps versus a T-shirt and geta — the more you learn, the more delightful it is that such wildly different styles of dress can exist under the same word, “Bon Odori.”

Awa Odori in Tokushima is likewise distinctive. In the men’s dance, some wear a hanten (a short coat), while others dance with their yukata hitched up at the hem (shirikarage). In the women’s dance, dancers wear a women’s yukata with a woven straw hat (amigasa) pulled low, moving lightly on geta. If you happen to come across a Bon Odori while traveling, take a look at the hats, hoods, coats, and geta the dancers wear — each element of their attire carries the form of the dance that particular place has preserved.

If You’re Heading Out in Yukata to This Year’s Summer Festival

While these traditional costumes have been passed down region by region, at today’s summer festivals it has become completely normal for each person to simply choose the yukata they like and head out. A garment that was once an undergarment is now festive attire reflecting personal style. That we can enjoy it today without worrying about complicated rules is, in a sense, thanks to the long journey the yukata took to step outside.

That said, summer festivals involve a lot of walking, sitting, and dancing in circles, so there are plenty of moments when the kimono coming loose (kizukure) can become a concern. Knowing how to fix kizukure before you head out means you won’t have to panic on the day. We’ve put together on-the-spot fixes in A Scene-by-Scene Guide to Fixing a Kimono That’s Come Loose. On days when you’ll be walking a long time in unfamiliar geta, it’s reassuring to take frequent breaks to avoid blisters from the hanao (the thongs). Adding just one cool-colored accent near the obi is enough to make your whole look feel a touch lighter. If you’re curious about the difference between yukata and kimono, see Do You Know the Difference Between Yukata and Kimono?, and for what to bring on the day, check A Checklist of Everything You Need to Wear Kimono.

In Closing

From an after-bath undergarment to festive attire — a long stretch of time is quietly folded into the path the yukata has traveled. Bon Odori, whose origins refuse to settle on one story, and the attire that changes expression from region to region — perhaps it’s precisely this range that proves how deeply this event has been loved for so long. This year, when the sound of the drums draws you to slip into a yukata, take a moment to remember the journey that single garment has made. The familiar sights of summer festivals should look just a little more endearing.