Forgotten customs
Today, the word tradition often carries the nuance of something to be preserved. But when we trace the arc of history, we find countless customs and practices that naturally faded away, slipping quietly into oblivion.
Traditional Japanese attire is now held in high regard internationally and celebrated as a symbol of Japan’s rich cultural heritage. Yet, even among such traditions, there are some that have been almost completely forgotten—neglected not only in modern life, but rarely even revived in television dramas or films. One such custom is the practice of dyeing the teeth black, known as ‘Kane’ or ‘Tessho’ (鉄漿). More commonly referred to by the Edo-period term ohaguro (お歯黒), which might ring a more of a bell for some.
In the Heian period, it was customary for adult women to blacken their teeth. The process involved using a solution made by oxidising iron filings in vinegar, along with a powdered plant product called gallnut. This mixture was applied carefully to the teeth using a brush.
In The Tale of Genji, Murasaki Shikibu (紫式部) describes the young character Waka Murasaki (若紫), who is about ten years old, in the Suetsumuhana (末摘花巻) chapter as follows:
“kodai no sobogimi no onagori nite, hagurome mo mada shikarikeru. (古代の祖母君の御なごりにて、歯ぐろめもまだしかりける)”
(Owing to the influence of her old-fashioned grandmother, she had not yet begun to blacken her teeth.)
At the time, the standard markers of womanhood included both tessho and the painting of eyebrows—known as okimayu (置き眉). Waka Murasaki’s childlike state is underscored by her lack of both.
This series of five bijin okubi-e (美人大首絵) is set against a background of benikirazuri (紅雲母摺). Utamaro captures the nuances of age, expression, and gesture, aiming to depict the subtle emotional layers of women in love. This particular print features a mature woman wearing ohaguro (blackened teeth). (Source: ColBase [https://colbase.nich.go.jp/])
Among aristocratic women of the Heian court, coming of age was marked by a ceremony called mogi (裳着), in which girls wore the ceremonial mo skirt for the first time. The initial application of okimayu and tessho preceded this rite, and the phrase kanehajime (鉄漿始)—the beginning of tooth blackening—even existed.
Admittedly, to the modern eye, a blackened mouth might appear somewhat eerie. Yet, in Eiga Monogatari (栄花物語, The Story of Splendour), believed to have been written by Akazome Emon (赤染衛門), there is a description of women engaged in rice planting that paints quite a different picture:
‘Wakokitanagemonaki onnadomogorokujunin bakarini, mobakama toifumono itoshirokutekisete, shiroikasadomokisete, haguromekurorakani, beniakokeshosesasete tsuzuketatetari (若うきたなげもなき女ども五六十人ばかりに、裳袴といふものいと白くて着せて、白い笠ども着せて、歯ぐろめ黒らかに、紅赤う化粧せさせて続け立てたり)’
(Some fifty or sixty young, neat-looking women were dressed in bright white skirts and robes called mo-bakama (裳袴), wearing white hats. Their teeth were dyed a deep black, and they were adorned with vivid red makeup.)
The striking contrast of white garments, blackened teeth, and crimson makeup was considered elegant and beautiful. For the people of the time, black teeth were simply a natural part of refined feminine beauty.
A natural practice for men, too
In the later Heian period, the custom of tessho also became common among aristocratic and warrior-class men. The amanomokuzu (海人藻芥), a Muromachi period compendium of court customs, refers to the reign of Emperor Toba (鳥羽), who ruled during the latter half of the 12th century:
‘Oyosokare miyoizen ha, otoko mayunokewonuki, higewohasami, kanewotsukerukoto, issaikorenashi (凡彼御代以前ハ、男眉ノ毛ヲ抜キ、鬚ヲハサミ、金ヲ付ル事、一切無之)’
(Before that reign, men did not pluck their eyebrows, trim their beards, or apply tessho at all.)
Whether this is entirely accurate is uncertain, but in the Genpei Seisuiki (源平盛衰記), Minamoto no Yoritomo (源頼朝)—captured at the age of thirteen during the Heiji (平治) Rebellion in 1160—is described as:
‘Kanetsukitaru kotokono, susushinohitatareni, kobakamakitehabeshi. (かね付たる小男の、生絹の直垂に小袴著て侍し)’
(A small youth with blackened teeth, wearing a raw silk hitatare undergarment and short hakama bottoms.)
At that point, Yoritomo had already obtained a court title thanks to his father Yoshitomo (義朝)’s connections, marking him as part of the aristocracy. Considering that warriors at the time supported court society with their military might, the fact that they followed court customs like tessho seems perfectly natural.
The period during which tessho was widely practised by both men and women spanned from the late Heian to the medieval era. However, by the Edo period, it had become limited mostly to adult women and young male members of the court. After the Meiji Restoration, the Ministry of the Imperial Household issued an official decree abolishing the practice for the Empress Dowager and Empress, effectively signalling the beginning of its decline among the general population. And so the tradition faded into history.
Conversing mid-blackening was quite unsightly
Interestingly, blackening one’s teeth first required removing plaque, so oral hygiene was essential to the process. The solution used in tessho was rich in tannins and ferrous ions, both of which are known to protect tooth enamel. It’s hard to say which came first—oral health or the cosmetic—but it does seem that this aesthetic ritual unintentionally helped to preserve Japanese people’s teeth throughout history.
Yet, not to mention Edo-period dramas, we see no characters with blackened teeth. Everyone beams with sparkling white smiles, and the once-common sight of tessho is vanishing from collective memory.
Sei Shonagon (清少納言), in The Pillow Book, remarked:
‘Kikinikuki mono,[…]hakurome tsukete monoiu koe. kotonarukoto naki hitoha, mono kuitsutsu moifu zokashi. (聞きにくきもの、(中略)歯黒めつけて物言ふ声。ことなることなき人は、物食いつつも言ふぞかし)’
(Unpleasant to hear: […]someone speaking with blackened teeth. An ordinary person might even speak while eating.)
She is referring to someone talking mid-process while applying tessho, brush still in mouth—a clearly unsightly image. Her comparison to someone chatting while eating is apt, and her distaste is understandable. Still, whenever I read that passage, I can’t help but imagine a woman chatting absent-mindedly while putting on her makeup.
Peering into a mirror, applying lipstick or eyeliner, she suddenly says what’s on her mind—such moments are still familiar today. So while tessho may have disappeared from modern life, the people behind the practice, and their small everyday behaviours, might not be so different from us after all. Cosmetics, in any era, are a mirror of humanity.
This article is translated from https://intojapanwaraku.com/culture/256367/