


In Harmony with Amami Oshima's Nature: The Origins of Mud Dyeing
'Dorozome' is a dyeing technique that exists only because of the rich natural environment of Amami Oshima. It's an essential step in creating Oshima Tsumugi, a fabric with a proud 1,300-year history. Its distinctive black is born from the chemical reaction between the tannin extracted from boiled Yeddo hawthorn wood and the iron-rich mud.
The history of Amami Oshima is deeply woven into the fabric of mud dyeing. During the Edo Period, under the rule of the Satsuma clan, the people of Amami were forced to cultivate sugarcane, and their silk fabrics were confiscated as tribute. To protect their precious Oshima Tsumugi, legend says the islanders hid the textiles in rice paddies and swamps. There, the fabric reacted with the iron-rich mud and turned black.
This happy accident is believed to be the origin of 'dorozome,' a technique that grew to become a signature part of Amami's culture. While production of Oshima Tsumugi peaked in 1974 at 300,000 *tan* (rolls of fabric) per year, it has now plummeted to around 8,000, underscoring the challenge of preserving this historical craft.
'It's not a one-and-done dyeing process,' Hideki told us quietly, his gaze fixed on the vat. 'We repeat it dozens of times to finally achieve that deep color. We check the richness of the hue by kneading the threads by hand.'
Stepping into the workshop, you're immediately enveloped by the sound of a large vat bubbling and the billowing steam. Here, nearly 600 kilograms of Yeddo hawthorn wood chips are packed into baskets and slowly simmered for two whole days. Since the concentration of the wood's components subtly changes depending on the tree and where it was harvested, the entire process—including hauling the raw materials from the mountains—is incredibly labor-intensive.
The resulting decoction, or 'shibujiru,' has the color and aroma of black coffee. As the threads are steeped in it, they slowly begin to take on the color. Next, they are submerged in the muddy field, where the iron in the soil reacts with the tannin, transforming the pale hue into a progressively deeper black.
'Even if we repeat the exact same steps, the shade will change depending on the day's sun and the condition of the mud,' explains Junichi, showing us his hands. 'That's why I knead the threads myself and make judgments by observing how my own hands get stained.'
It's a meticulous, patient task that relies on nature and the five senses.
The threads may be dipped in the mud nearly 90 times. Depending on the angle of the light, the resulting black reveals subtle hints of blue or green. It's a black with a depth that synthetic dyes can never replicate. This is, in every sense, the 'living color' born from the nature and wisdom of Amami.

A Family Legacy of Unchanging Craftsmanship
The Higosensyoku workshop is a true family affair, run by brothers, nephews, wives, and aunts. A friendly dog greets you at the entrance, and the sounds of birdsong and the whispering wind drift in through the windows. Here, the artisan's craft is deeply intertwined with nature.
The work demands constant focus. A single mistake, like the dye bleeding onto the yarn, can ruin hundreds of thousands of yen worth of fabric.
"The most nerve-wracking part is ensuring the color doesn't bleed," explains Junichi. "You can't see the results until the very end, so you have to rely solely on your experience and intuition."
The artisans even gauge the dye's concentration by the hue of their own hands. They knead the yarn barehanded, using their own bodies as finely tuned instruments. The tools and techniques have remained largely unchanged for generations, but what’s most constant is their philosophy: to dye by hand in conversation with nature.
From Tradition to Today: A Brush with Fashion
A turning point came about 20 years ago at a local products fair in a department store. Their mud-dyed T-shirts initially failed to sell, but word-of-mouth and referrals gradually opened up new markets, eventually capturing the attention of Tokyo-based designers and international brands.
"We saw a sudden surge in OEM orders," Takahiro recalls fondly. "While many requests are for solid colors, clients specifically seek the unique hue that only mud dyeing can produce. The best moments are when they praise our work, saying, 'You can't find a black like this anywhere else.'"
For them, personal connections are paramount. They prioritize the passion of their collaborators over the size of the brand.
"We'll turn down a project from a famous brand if their representative isn't committed. On the other hand, we'll give our all for a lesser-known partner who takes the time to visit us on the island."
It's from these relationships, built on mutual trust, that new colors and forms of expression emerge.
The Oshima Tsumugi Industry in Crisis and the Hopes of the Next Generation
However, the Oshima Tsumugi industry faces a challenging environment. Production has plummeted from a peak of 300,000 rolls (known as tan) annually in the mid-1970s to just 8,000 today. The number of skilled artisans has also declined sharply. A complex distribution system involving wholesalers makes it difficult for profits to flow back to the craftspeople on the ground.
Training the next generation is a long-term commitment, taking over a decade for an apprentice to become a master.
"It takes 12 years to become a certified Master of Traditional Crafts," Hideki notes. "But it's impossible to stick with it if there isn't enough work to make a living during that time."
On a hopeful note, young apprentices in their 20s have joined the workshop, signaling the beginning of a generational shift.
"We offer suggestions and advice, but this is an era for the younger generation to forge their own path with their unique sensibilities. Our role is simply to support them on their journey."
The Future Forged by Amami Oshima's Mud Dyeing
In recent years, mud dyeing has gained attention for its synergy with sustainable fashion. As a technique that uses natural materials, it enables a circular approach to manufacturing. Experiments are already underway to mud-dye yarn made from recycled plastic bottles. Scientific research is also exploring its functional benefits, such as the antibacterial properties of the catechins found in the Yeddo hawthorn (the plant used for the initial dye).
"Mud dyeing still has so much untapped potential," says Takahiro. "It's not just about the colors. If we can scientifically prove its functional benefits, it will open up a whole new world of value."
"Eighty to ninety percent of this work is grueling," Hideki admits. "But there's that ten percent of pure joy. That joy comes from the moment a customer's face lights up and they say, 'I love this color.' Those smiles are what keep us going."
The artisans have a final message for everyone:
"Please, come to Amami and see these colors, born from the island's nature. Woven into every cloth is the wisdom of generations and the very essence of this island's landscape."


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