Knitting in Japan Since 1890: Patterns, People and Tools
Knitting in Japan Since 1890: Patterns, People and Tools

A pattern can look like a quiet set of instructions: symbols, measurements and a photograph of a finished piece. Yet every pattern carries a history of decisions. Someone chose which objects were worth teaching, how a stitch should be recorded, what tools readers could buy and whether an explanation would travel as a chart, a book, a demonstration or a video. To follow Japanese knitting from the late nineteenth century to today is to follow those choices—and the people who made them—without mistaking a handful of surviving books for the habits of an entire nation.
What the books taught: a small sample, a changing picture
Rie Mori and Ayumi Sakurai examined 24 Japanese home-knitting books published between 1895 and 1952. Their study does not survey every knitter or household. It asks what kinds of objects the books selected as examples and how those choices shifted across the Meiji, Taishō and early Shōwa periods. A pattern book can show what editors considered teachable or desirable; it cannot tell us how many readers completed a project or how common knitting was across the population. [1]
Within the two Meiji-era books in the sample, accessories made up 75 percent of the featured items. In the Taishō books, garments represented 46 percent and accessories 41 percent. In the Shōwa-era sample, garments rose to 62 percent. These percentages describe the contents of those books, not the share of Japanese people who knitted clothing. Read with that limit in mind, they reveal a change in the published imagination of home knitting: from smaller accessories toward garments that asked readers to manage larger pieces, shaping and fit. [1]
The material choices recorded in the books are just as revealing. Mori and Sakurai note needles made from ivory, iron, bone or horn in the Meiji material; later books include bamboo, celluloid and wood. One 1924 book listed 23 kinds of yarn. The details suggest a changing market and a wider set of choices for makers—fibre, needle, thickness and technique—but do not mean every material was equally available or affordable. [1]
The 1908 volume Shugei to Amimono (Needlework and Knitting), edited by Kōran Joshi, begins with handling a crochet hook and making chain, single- and double-crochet stitches before moving into dolls, pouches, shawls and socks. It is evidence of what one published manual chose to teach, not a census of what every home owned or made. A separate 1924 title, translated as New-Style Yarn Knitting Applied to Western and Japanese Dress, documents an explicit effort to situate knitted projects across both wardrobes; the title does not prove how every reader used them. [1][10]

Haruyo Etō and the problem of making stitches legible
A knitted fabric can be understood by touch and sight, but teaching it at a distance raises a practical question: how can one person describe a loop’s movement so another can reproduce it? Kei Kitagawa’s study of educator Haruyo Etō (江藤春代) and crochet education reports that in 1924 she developed what the author calls a “rational system of symbols” for recording crochet actions. The careful wording matters: the paper documents Etō’s contribution; it does not establish that she invented every symbol used in Japanese crochet charts today. [2]
Notation turns movement—inserting a hook, drawing through, turning and repeating—into marks that can be printed and consulted again. It can carry a lesson beyond the classroom and let a learner pause, compare and correct. But a symbol is not self-explanatory. A chart needs a key, a starting point and a direction of travel; even familiar marks can vary among publishers or traditions. Readers should check the legend rather than assume every chart speaks a universal visual language.
Etō’s story also belongs to the history of work. Kitagawa places crochet instruction amid disaster, war and economic pressure, when women were expected to acquire precise skills that could supplement household income. A hook could be a tool of design, but it could also be a means of earning money under difficult conditions. A history told only through beautiful finished objects risks making labour disappear. It is worth asking who had time to learn, who could afford materials and who benefited from the work. [2]
Shirataki Ikunosuke’s 1895 painting Knitting Girl offers another image of a young person knitting. It is a painting, not a survey: it cannot establish that all girls knitted, identify the model’s circumstances or tell us whether the work was paid. Keeping that boundary visible lets the image contribute what it can—a dated cultural representation—without asking it to answer questions it cannot. [11]

Tools, trade and access: the work behind the work
Patterns do not travel on paper alone. Knitters need needles, hooks, yarn and a way to discover which tool suits a project. Clover’s company history records that Toshio Okada began a sewing-tool wholesale business in Osaka in 1925. The company later expanded into manufacturing, publishing and demonstrations. Its product history notes the introduction of jumbo needles in 1968 and a campaign promoting coloured needles in the 1970s. These records help explain how one business presented and distributed tools; they are not the origin story of knitting in Japan as a whole. [3][4]
A thicker needle can make a bulky yarn practical. A colour-coded tool can help a learner distinguish sizes. A book or demonstration can show how to use them. Each is a small piece of infrastructure connecting instruction to practice. Company histories have their own point of view, foregrounding products, founders and milestones. They rarely provide a complete account of the makers who used those tools, the retailers who sold them or the households that could not afford them. Corporate archives are useful when read alongside books, museum objects and scholarship. [3]
Contemporary makers: charts, videos and written patterns
Independent designers now build different routes into crochet and knitting. Ronique organises crochet patterns across bags, home accessories and items for children, pairing instruction with charts and video. The resource is not simply a collection of designs; it is also a teaching environment. A learner may need to see the finished object, decode a symbol and watch a hand movement before the method clicks. [5]
Kineco describes a different path. In the designer’s own account, encountering prose-form patterns in English led to publishing original knitting patterns in written form beginning in 2018. The pattern pages combine English-style line-by-line instructions with design notes in Japanese, and the designer says travel and architecture inform the work. This is one creator’s self-description, not a claim about every Japanese knitter or a national design style. It shows how pattern formats move across languages and how a maker can adapt an explanation for a new audience. [6][7]
When learning from a pattern, start with the key and identify whether a chart is read from the centre outward, right to left or back and forth. Make a swatch and compare actual stitches with the diagram. For a garment, check finished measurements rather than relying on a size label alone. Measure gauge after washing and drying the swatch as the garment will be cared for. Needle size is a suggestion; the fabric you produce is the test.
Amigurumi, objects and what a photograph cannot prove
Amigurumi is often introduced through its appeal: a small crocheted animal with a rounded head and expressive face. It is also a lesson in construction. Increases and decreases shape volume; the placement of eyes changes expression; stuffing alters the silhouette; seams and attachment points affect balance. Clover’s published chick pattern shows a contemporary design assembled from separate parts. It demonstrates a method, not an ancient Japanese object or evidence that every maker follows the same construction. [8]
The chick below was photographed in 2021 by Lskbrown. Its file record identifies the image and licence, but does not establish that it was made in Japan or from Clover’s pattern. The tools in the final photograph are likewise a modern comparison, not a record of Etō’s 1924 equipment. Modern images help when their date and purpose remain visible; without those labels, a contemporary example can quietly be mistaken for historical evidence. [12][13]
That discipline applies to paintings and books too. Kuroda Seiki’s Knitting shows a person engaged in knitting; the canvas does not identify the yarn, pattern, model or economic circumstances. The 1908 manual gives us a dated printed curriculum, but its cover alone does not show how widely it circulated. A painting, a company chronology and a designer’s website answer different questions. Good research begins by asking what each source can actually support.
“Free to download” does not automatically mean free to translate, republish or use a designer’s photographs commercially. Readers should check the original page for the pattern’s terms, retain attribution and link to the source when sharing a finished project. Permission and licence terms matter as much as technique. [5][7]

A short timeline of books, notation and tools
- 1890: Kuroda Seiki’s painting Knitting provides a visual representation of a knitter. [9]
- 1895: Shirataki Ikunosuke paints Knitting Girl, a particular artwork rather than a national survey. [11]
- 1908: Kōran Joshi edits Shugei to Amimono, whose contents include crochet basics, dolls, pouches, shawls and socks. [10]
- 1924: A study records Haruyo Etō’s system of symbols for representing crochet actions. [2]
- 1925: Toshio Okada begins a sewing-tool wholesale business in Osaka, according to Clover’s company history. [3]
- 1968 and the 1970s: Clover’s product history records jumbo needles and later coloured-needle promotion. [4]
- 2018 onward: Kineco says the designer began publishing original written-form knitting patterns. [6]

Read the pattern—and the record—closely
Japan’s knitting history is not a single origin story. It is a history of printed lessons, changing materials, stitch notation, household work, commercial tools and creators who now teach through websites and downloadable patterns. The 24-book study offers a window into what publishers presented; Etō’s notation shows how a technique could be made legible; company records reveal one route by which tools reached makers; contemporary designers show how instruction keeps changing. Each source opens a different door.
The next time you open a pattern, look beyond the finished photograph. Find the date and author, read the symbol key, check gauge and measurements, and note what the designer says about materials and use. Those small acts make a project more successful—and help preserve the human decisions that turn a set of marks into something made by hand.
About these images. Images 1–3 are a painting and a period manual; they are not interchangeable evidence. Images 4–5 are contemporary examples, not historical Japanese objects. Each caption links to the source file and states the documented licence or public-domain status.
Sources and image credits
Inline numbers point to the research and records below. Follow each image’s file record for rights details before reuse.
- Rie Mori and Ayumi Sakurai, study of Japanese home-knitting books, 1895–1952, Journal of Home Economics of Japan (2012)
- Kei Kitagawa, study of Haruyo Etō and crochet education, Journal of Home Economics of Japan (2020)
- Clover, company history
- Clover, product and merchandise history
- Ronique, English-language crochet patterns and learning resources
- Kineco, designer biography and practice
- Kineco, English-language pattern catalogue
- Clover, contemporary amigurumi chick pattern
- Kuroda Seiki, Knitting (circa 1890), Kuroda Kinenkan file record
- Kōran Joshi, editor, Shugei to Amimono (1908), digitised by the National Diet Library
- Shirataki Ikunosuke, Knitting Girl (1895), Koriyama City Museum file record
- Lskbrown, Amigurumi Chick (2021), CC BY 3.0
- Akiko 88, crochet and amigurumi tools (2014), CC BY-SA 3.0