Tabi Socks: Why the Toe Is Split, and Which Kind

The Shoe in the MoMA Collection Is a Work Sock

Margiela showed the Tabi boot in 1988, shortly after founding his house, having travelled to Japan with the designers who became known as the Antwerp Six and absorbed what Rei Kawakubo and Yohji Yamamoto were doing.

None of which changes what the original is. Tabi are split-toe socks worn in Japan since at least the fifteenth century, for a straightforwardly practical reason — they were what you wore with thonged sandals.

Then around 1900 somebody put rubber soles on them, and the jika-tabi was born: outdoor footwear, still standard on Japanese building sites and in gardens today. That is the lineage Margiela reached into — not a ceremonial object, but a work boot.

Why Japanese — What the Split Actually Does

The immediate reason is the sandal. Geta and zori are held on by a thong between the big toe and the second toe. A conventional sock makes that impossible, so Japan solved the problem at the sock rather than the shoe.

The consequence turned out to be more interesting than the cause. Separating the big toe lets it work independently — gripping, pushing off, and feeling the ground — instead of being bundled with the other four.

• It is why jika-tabi became work footwear. Carpenters, scaffolders, gardeners and festival carriers wear them because you can feel what you are standing on, which matters on a beam or a wet rock.
• It is why the barefoot-running crowd found them. A thin, flexible sole with a separated big toe is roughly the specification that movement enthusiasts arrived at independently, a century later.
• And it is why tabi have to fit tightly. A loose split-toe sock does none of this — the toe pocket has to sit on the toe.

Japanese-made tabi are cut close and shaped to the foot rather than knitted as a tube. That is the difference you feel against a cheap imported pair, and it is also why the sizing section below matters more than it usually would.

The Four Kinds, and Which You Want

These are four different products that happen to share a shape. Buying the wrong one is the most common mistake, and it is easy to make from a photograph.

White tabi — formal, and non-negotiable

Stiff woven cotton, fastened at the back with metal clasps called kohaze. They hold their shape, they are deliberately unforgiving, and for formal kimono there is no alternative — white, clean, and correct.

They are also the least comfortable of the four, and that is not a flaw. A formal tabi is meant to look precise.

Stretch tabi — everyday kimono

Knitted rather than woven, so they give. Some have kohaze, some pull on. Available in colours and subtle patterns, and the right answer for wearing a yukata or a casual kimono without suffering.

Tabi socks — an ordinary sock with the toe split

These are just socks. Ankle length or crew, plain or loudly patterned, worn with trainers, sandals or nothing. No relationship to formal wear at all — and by far the cheapest way to find out whether you like the sensation.

Jika-tabi — the outdoor one

Rubber-soled footwear rather than a sock. Canvas or textile upper, kohaze up the back or a slip-on construction, and a thin flexible sole.

This is the one to buy if you want to actually wear tabi outside. Japanese makers still produce them for tradespeople, and the same lasts are now used for printed textile versions aimed at anybody who wants them.

Kohaze, and Getting the Size Right

What kohaze count means

Kohaze are the small metal clasps that fasten a tabi at the back of the ankle, hooking into fabric loops. The number of them tells you how high the tabi comes up.

• Four kohaze — shorter, easier to move in. The everyday choice, and standard for men.
• Five kohaze — taller, sits higher on the ankle, reads as more formal and stays neater under a kimono hem.
• More than five exist for specific traditional roles, and you will know if you need them.

If you are not sure: four. Unless you are dressing formally, in which case five.

Sizing

• Measure your foot length in centimetres and buy that number. Japanese sizing is the actual length of your foot, and tabi are sold in half-centimetre steps. Do not convert from a US or UK shoe size — those include ease that a tabi does not.
• Buy tight, not comfortable. A formal white tabi should feel snug when new; the cotton relaxes slightly. A loose one wrinkles at the ankle, which is exactly what the garment is trying to avoid.
• Check the width if your feet are broad. Japanese lasts run narrower than Western ones, and some makers offer wide fittings.
• Jika-tabi are different — size up. These are footwear, worn over a sock in cold weather, and the rubber sole does not stretch. Half a centimetre to a centimetre over your foot length is usual.

What to Buy

Wearing Them, and Keeping Them White

• Put tabi on before the kimono, not after. Bending down to fasten kohaze once you are dressed undoes the whole arrangement. This is the standard order and there is a reason for it.
• Fasten the kohaze from the bottom up, pulling the fabric taut as you go, so the ankle finishes smooth.
• Formal means white, and clean. A greyish white tabi is worse than no tabi at a formal occasion — carry a spare pair. Japanese guests routinely do.
• Wash white tabi by hand, soon. The sole picks up dirt immediately. Soak, brush the sole gently, and dry flat in shade — never in a dryer, because they shrink and a shrunk tabi is finished.
• Tabi socks need none of this. Machine wash, wear with anything, and enjoy the fact that they look deliberate with almost any shoe.

Frequently Asked Questions