TOKYO– Japanese artist Hiroko Takahashi fought through sexism and suspicion from traditional kimono artisans to establish a globally known brand that sold hundreds of her original garments every month — until the coronavirus devastation hit.

Takahashi has tried to regroup by selling handmade masks sewn from kimono fabric.

鈥淢y designs are kind of strong, so there are people who resist the idea of wearing them in something full body,鈥 the 42-year-old said. 鈥淏ut they鈥檇 love to wear it as a mask.鈥

But the masks are a long fall from her original business. Noted for her bold, unisex prints for both kimono and yukata, a lighter kimono, and her refusal to accept conventional limits on wearing them, Takahashi this year was part of an exhibit at London鈥檚 Victoria and Albert Museum. She also has a contract to provide yukata for a new, luxury hotel as Japan gears up to host the Olympics.

Success took time. When she began, traditional dyers hated her designs and refused to work with her. When she called to check on progress, they鈥檇 hang up.

鈥淏eing a woman and young can make it hard to work in Japan,鈥 she said.

She persisted until she was selling 100 to 200 made-to-order yukata a month — remarkable success in an industry so steadily declining that sales now hover around 16% of what they were in 1981, according to government data.

The coronavirus changed everything. Department stores shut for weeks, the Olympics were postponed until 2021 and the hotel opening was put off. Summer festivals and fireworks displays, usually prime yukata-wearing occasions, were cancelled nationwide.

鈥淲e have absolutely nothing,鈥 she said. 鈥淚鈥檝e done nothing new this year. No new designs, no new colors.鈥

Though Takahashi is teaching and eking out income making kimono fabric masks, her income has taken a major hit. Her yukatas started at 60,000 yen ($566) and kimono at 3 million yen, but the masks go for just 1,400 yen each.

The coronavirus could devastate the kimono industry, where aging artisans, each specializing in one stage of the process, are finding it impossible to envision future work.

鈥淭here are a lot of people who expected to hang in there, but with the virus, and not enough work coming in, they鈥檙e deciding to call it quits,鈥 said Kazumi Furuoya, 44, a third-generation kimono tailor who works with his wife and parents in the Den-en-chofu area of Tokyo.

A generation ago, the Furuoya workshop was so busy it scrambled to keep up with orders.

A recent survey by Aeru, a company promoting traditional crafts, found that unless demand improves, about 40 percent of artisans may be forced to quit by the end of the year.

鈥淚f a fabric-maker goes under there鈥檚 nothing to dye, and if the dyers quit we can鈥檛 make kimonos,鈥 Takahashi said. 鈥淚f one goes down, we all do.鈥

Even if demand picks up, the impact may be lasting. A lack of orders means new tailors can鈥檛 practice enough.

鈥淜imonos are part of Japanese culture and as long as even one artisan remains, I want to work with them to keep things going — because once something vanishes, bringing it back is really hard,鈥 Takahashi said.

鈥淚 don鈥檛 know how much strength I have, but if I can contribute even a little to this, it鈥檒l be good.鈥 鈥 Reuters