Along a quiet strip in Kurashiki, Japan, known as Kojima Jeans Street, denim purists from around the world make their pilgrimage. It’s not just a shopping destination—it’s a living museum of Japanese craftsmanship, home to some of the finest selvedge denim in the world and city buses wrapped in Jeans Street branding. Yet, while the indigo-dyed legacy remains strong, Kojima’s denim culture is undergoing a transformation, shaped by shifting customer preferences, global demand, and the pressures of succession in a labor-intensive industry.
Once considered a niche destination for denim aficionados, Kojima is now enjoying a moment of renewed visibility. The coastal city, long known as the birthplace and bedrock of Japanese jeans, is churning out more denim than ever, thanks in part to the post-covid rise in e-commerce and international collaborations. But the real story lies in the streets: who’s keeping the legacy alive, what’s changing, and what Kojima’s future might look like.
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New brands, new voices
Far from being a museum stuck in time, Kojima is experiencing a wave of fresh energy. In the past few years, several new brands have hung their shingle and opened storefronts, each with a slightly different take on what Japanese denim can be.
Tugg, for example, is just two years old. A store employee shared that the seller of jeans, overalls, skirts and more was born from a simple impulse: “We saw what was missing and decided to make it ourselves.” Their vision balances the respect for tradition with the desire to design something new. Though their clientele is still predominantly Japanese, the products are unisex, and shoppers are increasingly diverse.
Another newer label, Encrust, has operated a storefront for two years, though the brand it houses—Sasanqua by Trees—is now six years old. The shop features contemporary styles rooted in Japanese aesthetics, highlighting how even newer entrants nod to the signature visual language of Kojima denim while reaching for broader appeal.
Setto, a popular shop along Kojima Jeans Street, sees its highest foot traffic during Golden Week in May. It’s a pattern repeated among most of the local stores. “Golden Week brings a lot of visitors,” says a Setto store employee, noting that while international tourism is growing, most customers are still Japanese. “About 70 percent of our shoppers are local.”
This domestic focus, however, doesn’t mean Kojima isn’t attracting global interest. Setto’s customers are discerning—often on the hunt for pure selvedge denim, the kind that emphasizes durability, visible craftsmanship, and tradition over newer stretch or comfort blends. There’s a sense that people come here seeking the real thing, and the shops deliver.
New guard with deep roots
One of the most promising additions is Omoto, a boutique and brand just under a year old. Despite its youth, Omoto is helmed by founder Kishimoto Hiroki, who brings two decades of experience in denim fabric development, including time with Japan Blue Jeans. The result is a line that feels deeply rooted in tradition yet timely in execution.
The name “Omoto” is inspired by the omoto plant, known for changing its appearance daily—mirroring the way denim evolves with wear. Like many Kojima brands, Omoto leans into unisex fits, though patterns are designed with the male form in mind. “Fit should be perfect, no matter your age or sex,” says Omoto employee Keita Hinamoto, highlighting the inclusive ethos behind the brand.
Omoto’s international ambitions are already coming to life. The brand is available in Standard & Strange in New York City, a SoHo boutique known for stocking Japanese brands. Participation in international trade shows has also unlocked opportunities with European retailers. The brand’s global launch is paired with a recent push into cross-border e-commerce.
Yet, even with this outward gaze, Omoto maintains its commitment to traditional craftsmanship. Cotton is sourced from Texas (warp) and Zimbabwe (weft), each chosen for its unique character. Production is local within Okayama prefecture. Sustainability, in the Japanese spirit, is about making something that stands the test of time and is a cherished component of an individual’s wardrobe. “The factory quality is the same as it’s always been,” says Hinamoto. “Foreigners are just discovering it now.”
The quiet crisis behind the seams
Despite the seeming health of Kojima Jeans Street’s denim industry, a labor crisis is quietly simmering beneath the surface. Like many traditional industries in Japan denim is grappling with a serious shortage of successors. The craft, once passed down through generations, is now facing the reality that fewer young people—seduced by high-flying, big-city office jobs—are interested in toiling in its timeworn factories. The industry is undeniably admired globally for its heritage and quality, but that admiration doesn’t always translate into a desire to join the ranks of the artisans who create the denim.
As the average age of skilled denim artisans continues to rise, the industry faces an impending crisis. With veteran craftsmen hanging up their tools in retirement, more and more factories are being forced to shutter their looms. It is estimated that in recent years, between 10 to 20 factories have shut down due to aging ownership and a dearth of successors to take the reins and write the next chapter.
With an eye to the trials and tribulations facing the Kojima denim community, Omoto’s Hinamoto describes this shortage of new-generation workers as one of the biggest challenges currently plaguing the region’s denim industry. “Like many traditional local industries in Japan, the denim industry is facing a serious shortage of successors,” Hinamoto explains. However, he also believes that the global recognition of Japanese denim could be the key to reversing this trend. “As Japanese denim gains more recognition around the world, it helps raise awareness and appreciation here at home,” he notes. This increased visibility not only promotes the craft abroad but also creates an opportunity to inspire the next wave of artisans who might otherwise overlook this profession.
Despite the challenges, there are signs of hope. In nearby Ibara—just an hour’s drive from Kojima—denim-related industries continue to thrive. Ibara plays a pivotal role in the supply chain, producing much of the fabric that shows up as finished goods displayed in the shiny store windows on Kojima Jeans Street. While Kojima itself is renowned for its cut-and-sew expertise, Ibara’s contribution is essential to keeping the textile side of the business humming.
Occasionally, new energy is injected into the scene as enterprising individuals revive dormant factories, breathing new life into the old spaces that once powered the industry. While this rejuvenation offers some hope, it doesn’t solve the larger issue of attracting young blood into the workforce.
Hinamoto is keenly aware of the importance of continuing the tradition of Japanese denim, not just in terms of production but as an integral part of Japan’s cultural heritage. “That’s why Omoto Denim is committed to sharing this industry—with its global recognition—with the world,” he explains. “We see this as part of Japan’s cultural heritage, and we’re leading the way in keeping it alive for the future.”
Hinamoto credits the legacy of Kojima’s denim industry to its craftsmen—those who tirelessly protect the quality and spirit of “Made in Japan” every single day. “Some have over 50 years of experience, while others are in their twenties, learning the craft from the ground up,” he says. “There’s nothing flashy about what they do—but they find joy and meaning in working with their hands and take real pride in their work. It’s their quiet dedication that continues to shape the denim and jeans culture of Kojima, and of Japan as a whole.” This dedication is, according to Hinamoto, the lifeblood of the industry—the uncelebrated workers whose craftsmanship ensures the survival and global reverence of Japanese denim.
The challenge remains: how to convince young people not just to love denim but to make it. Kojima’s denim industry is at a crossroads, where the love for its heritage and the desire to preserve it must meet the need for new generations to step in and carry the torch forward. Without the next generation of artisans, the industry may struggle to maintain its global stature and remain a beacon of Japan’s unique cultural craftsmanship.
The debut of Denim Day
Recognizing the need to protect and elevate Kojima’s unique role in the global denim landscape, the Kojima Jeans Street Cooperative has become an increasingly active force. It designated Oct. 26 as “Denim Day”—a celebration of the region’s deep-rooted denim culture. While the day has yet to reach its full potential as a promotional platform, plans are underway to build an event around it, further positioning Kojima as Japan’s sacred ground for denim.
The cooperative believes it has earned credit for safeguarding Kojima’s traditions, helping ensure that the spirit of Japanese denim continues to evolve rather than fade. As they point out, while global denim has a history of around 130 years, domestic Japanese production—including Kojima’s contribution—spans just six decades. Although it’s impossible to close the historical gap entirely, Kojima has carved out a distinct, respected niche within an international denim landscape dominated by stretch-blend fabrics and the constant churn that comes with chasing trends.
For brands that join the cooperative, the perks go beyond a logo on a flyer or a name on a shared email blast. There’s a real ecosystem at work here—cross-brand collaborations that actually mean something, doors opening to sales channels they didn’t know existed, and introductions that spark product ideas they wouldn’t have dreamed up solo. There’s also practical muscle behind the scenes: support from the local Chamber of Commerce that helps brands navigate everything from financing options to tax breaks and regional subsidies.
But make no mistake—this isn’t just about logistics. Kojima’s edge—its aura—has always been about something deeper. This place was built on reclaimed land and relentless effort, where cotton fields first took root during Japan’s Edo period. Out of that fertile history grew a vibrant textile legacy that today lives on through denim. The jeans made here aren’t just good—they’re soulful. Woven with a kind of muscle memory passed down through generations, they carry the weight of craftsmanship you can see and feel. That’s the power of Kojima: it’s not just making denim, it’s making history wearable.
Foot traffic rebounds as Kojima reemerges
Kojima is having a moment—and the foot traffic proves it. Before the pandemic, around 250,000 people made the denim pilgrimage to Kojima Jeans Street each year. That number dipped to 150,000 during the height of covid, as restrictions limited visitor flow—but by 2022, the crowds were creeping back. And now? Visitor numbers are once again brushing up against that 250,000 mark, right where they left off in 2019.
What’s driving the comeback isn’t just denim diehards. International tourists are ditching the cookie-cutter sightseeing traps and hunting down places with soul—spots that feel lived-in, local, and layered with meaning. Kojima checks all the boxes: history, heritage, industry, and street-level fashion culture you can see, touch, and shop.
For years, the unassuming hub—where even ice cream gets a denim-colored makeover—largely flew under the radar. But lately, some smart marketing and broader outreach have started to shift the spotlight. And there’s more momentum on the way. Kojima sits in prime position to ride the wave of the Setouchi Triennale, a boundary-pushing art festival that hits the islands of the Seto Inland Sea every three years. It draws an international crowd of curious, culture-seeking travelers—the kind of people who geek out over slow-made jeans and the stories behind them. That crowd is exactly who Kojima was made for.
Sustainability as a cultural value
In the West, sustainability tends to be all charts and carbon audits—numbers, metrics, lifecycle breakdowns. In Kojima, it hits closer to home. Here, sustainability is tactile. Personal. It’s about honoring what’s already in front of you. Take Webber, for example—a scrappy, five-year-old label that’s quietly redefining what “made from waste” can look like. They scoop up leftover factory scraps—odds and ends that might otherwise get tossed—and rework them into pieces that are cool, intentional, and wildly wearable.
The price point doesn’t hurt either. Webber sells at around half what you’d pay at neighboring stores, making it a magnet for younger shoppers—design-curious, budget-aware, and hungry for something with story and soul.
“Japanese shoppers really appreciate the beauty and cost-efficiency of upcycled fashion,” says a Webber employee. It’s a natural extension of the Japanese principle of mottainai, the philosophy of not wasting what still retains value.
Other brands, like Edge of Line, have been flying the flag for playful innovation long before it became a marketing buzzword. The 13-year-old label leans into the offbeat while staying rooted in craft—case in point: a full line of pet denim launched five years ago. It sounds quirky (because it is), but it’s also a clever, on-brand way of expanding what Kojima denim can be—and nods to Japan’s passion for pets. It’s proof that tradition and experimentation aren’t opposites here—they’re co-conspirators.
Inside the shop, Miwa Tanaka, who’s worked the floor for years, says the flow of foot traffic still pulses with seasonality. New Year’s and Obon in August are high tides, when loyal regulars and curious newcomers flood in, reminding her that denim in Kojima isn’t just heritage—it’s habit.
Tourism returns, international curiosity grows
Since the pandemic, international tourism in Kojima hasn’t just bounced back—it’s leveled up. At Mayuka, staff say the surge in foreign visitors is outpacing even pre-covid highs, and the boost in foot traffic is showing up on the sales floor. What’s drawing them in? The same thing that’s always made Kojima special: craftsmanship you can see, authenticity you can feel. It’s not just window-shopping—curiosity here often turns into checkout bags.
Over at Flui, a boutique that blends silver accessories with denim from neighboring Ibara, the vibe is less tourist trap, more treasure hunt. Everything’s handmade, locally rooted, and built to last—souvenirs with soul. And then there’s Ritawco, a fresh face on the scene. The brand is helmed by Tatsuya Kowatari, who spent years sewing in the shadows of the industry before flipping the script to launch his own label. It’s classic Kojima: artisans stepping into the spotlight, rewriting what denim retail can look like.
Even the heavy hitters are pushing their boundaries. Momotaro, arguably Kojima’s most globally recognized name, is shaking things up with elevated drops like silk denim and cashmere denim—heritage silhouettes cut from fabrics that whisper luxury. The lines remain mostly unisex, though the aesthetic still skews slightly masculine, a tip of the hat to the brand’s roots. But the direction is clear: even icons aren’t standing still.
Preserving legacy, embracing change
There’s a quiet reverence that reverberates in Kojima—a feeling that denim here isn’t just made, it’s lived. It’s ritual, it’s rhythm. But this isn’t a museum of indigo past. New voices are adding layers. A wave of younger designers, shop owners, and customers is reshaping the landscape—bringing with them a mindset rooted in sustainability, inclusivity, and a global point of view.
You see it in the thoughtful scraps-to-style creations at Webber, in the artisan accessories at Flui, in the understated precision of Omoto. These brands aren’t breaking from tradition—they’re remixing it, thread by thread, adding new chapters to an already rich story.
Of course, challenges persist. Labor shortages and succession gaps loom large. But talk to the locals and the vibe isn’t one of decline—it’s quiet confidence. “Kojima’s denim market is getting better, not worse,” says one shop owner, standing beneath shelves stacked with selvedge and soft light. You can feel that belief in the Golden Week buzz, in the openings of new storefronts, in the uptick in curious travelers from across the globe.
Kojima isn’t just holding on—it’s evolving with intention. Anchored by craft, lifted by vision, it offers more than just jeans. It offers proof that when heritage meets heart, the result is something timeless.
This story was published in SJ Denim magazine. Click here to download the issue.
