I wanted to dress up for the yukata festival in Nagahama, but even though I like the way summer kimono look, I really don’t enjoy wearing them. They constrain my movement to mincing steps (or I face the consequences of flapping the bottom edges of the yukata and showing my legs) and geta - the traditional shoes - are so extraordinarily painful that I have vowed to never wear them again.

So I decided to make my own style. I cut an old yukata to tunic length and wore it with leggings. I tied my own obi and dressed it up with some flowers and cords. On top, traditional and pretty. On the bottom - freedom of movement!

I wasn’t quite prepared for the reactions from passersby. In Tokyo, nobody would have looked at me twice - or if they did, it would have been discreet. In Nagahama, people gawked, pointed and laughed. Ouch.

A schoolgirl in sports uniform, leading a large team of similarly clad girls called back to them as we approached, “That’s not Japanese! Look, that’s not Japanese at all!” to which I replied - shouting across the intersection to her - “No, I’m not Japanese, am I?” in Japanese. She blanched and her friends tittered. Older ladies stopped me to ask if this was my original fashion. Yes, I told them, and it was so easy to walk in. They agreed with a smile. Some oddly coiffed teens looked askance at me, but I laughed because they were definitely more outlandish than I was. Maybe they will follow my trend for short yukata next summer in Nagahama.

After a while (and a few beers from the festival) I stopped noticing if people were looking and just enjoyed myself.