Foxes' Wedding March

Dawn paled over Matsue and a gusty wind bullied the house, creaking the windows and tossing about the forgotten knickers on the balcony. I arose early and tiptoed through the sleeping house, eager to get under the hot shower and douse my bleary eyes. I was as nervous as a girly swot sitting their O-levels, and I was determined to contain my butterflies with a good scrub of "Hot n' Flashy Revitalising Body Wash". Once ready, I checked that my cape, kimono bag and hair adornment were packed and ready, then after a hurried breakfast of rice and miso soup, I was whisked away in a cab to Clarte hair salon, where a head massage was promptly given and my hairdresser gelled my hair into 1920s waves with back ridges. The wind groaned outside, and my hairdresser said the sky promised snow.

Then onto the Flawless Kimono House with Miss Violet. On arrival we were ushered into the kimono rooms, where the walls are lined with drawers that hold material most glorious. The morning was busy: the kimono dressers had to ensure that the tabi socks fit my bulbous big toe and my stumpy little ones; powder was applied to one's nosie; Miss Gremily and Sir P arrived from their epic steam train journey from Tokyo; petticoats were donned (but not by Sir P) and kimono gowns enwrapped us; cords and obis were tightened and internal organs were dislodged. As you will see from the pics, my kimono was green with peacock and peony detail; Miss Violet's was purple with gilded butterfly patterns; and Miss Gremily's was graded red and black, with a smoky rose detail. Sir S got his wish and donned a black kimono, with a black and white striped skirt, white fan and alluring pompom. My, he cut a picture most handsome in traditional Japanese garb!





I was chauffered separately to the Jozan Inari Shrine. A steep flight of steps led up to the old shrine, and at the top I espied a flash of purple and red that was the kimono gals, and I could see the flapping dark kimono of Detective M, as well as a graceful gathering of guests. The wind was cold but refreshing on my cheeks, and I made my way carefully up the steps in red getta, snug in my quilted Edwardian cape and holding a simple bouquet of pine and orchids. The fluffy feather of my hair adornment - a green and black enamel creation made by Penny Dreadful - fluttered about in the wind like an unruly duckling, but thankfully did not blow away!


Once tucked into the warmth of the shrine, the guests took their seats in front of the dais, and Sir S and I read speeches, in English and Japanese, that explained the upcoming ceremony for the benefit of the Australian guests, and also briefly described why we chose to marry at an Inari shrine. The charming Miss Kaori and Fuji Sensei assured me that I was understood, despite some slippage of the tongue - oo er!

Then the ceremony commenced. First, the priest purified Sir S and I by waving a branch, on which paper streamers were attached, over our heads. He mounted the dais and gave a prayer to the kami-sama (god), delivered in a deep, hypnotising voice reminiscent of Noh theatre. After that, he purified us again by tinkling a bough of golden bells over our heads. Next, Sir S and I stood forward as the priest and his wife prepared sake for the ritual of san-san-kudo (literally, the way of three-three-nine). Here, sake was poured into three, flat, saucer-like cups that increased in size. Starting with the smallest, Sir S sipped the sake three times, then I followed suit. Then the medium-sized cup was handed to me for drinking in three sips, repeated by Sir S. The last and largest was then served, and Sir S and I sipped the sake for the last time, three times each.



Next came the vows. Traditionally, the groom reads the vows and at the end, the bride says "wife" and then her name. For our ceremony, Sir S and I read them out together. Most of the vows were in hiragana, but some were in kanji without the helpful furagana provided, but I managed to articulate most of them in time with Sir S. The vows generally say that, on this happy day, we promise to be together in good times and bitter, hard times, and that we make this vow before the kami-sama. Then Sir S reads the date, declares himself husband and I declare myself wife. And so I officially became a wifey, and Sir S a glove-in-hand!





After that, the priest and his wife gave us each a branch which we had to offer to the kami-sama. The branch itself had to be turned towards the gods in an clockwise choreography, which Sir S fumbled with momentarily, but all went well and the branches were safely bestowed to their rightful place with the kami. Then sake cups were handed out to us and all of the guests, sake was poured, Detective M announced "omedeto" (congratulations) and "kampai" (cheers) was echoed by the crowd. We supped our sake and turned to the shrine window to see snowflakes scatter down before the torii and flutter in the golden light cast by the sun.



Detective M remarked that a saying in Japanese applies to the fall of snow while it is sunny, which is "foxes' wedding march", a saying most apt for our wedding day at the fox shrine.