From Paper to Yarn, Craft & Cloth

From Paper to Yarn, Craft & Cloth

From Paper to Yarn, Craft & Cloth: The Remarkable History of Cellulose Fibre in Japan

Paper might not be the first fibre that comes to mind when you think about yarn, crafting and creating cloth. But in Japan, paper has been transformed into textile for centuries, producing fabrics that were light, strong, breathable, beautiful and, importantly, wearable.

Today, as we look for natural and innovative fibres for contemporary craft, this ancient Japanese tradition offers a fascinating reminder: sometimes the most interesting materials are the ones we have overlooked.

From paper to fibre

The story begins with washi, the handmade Japanese paper traditionally produced from plant fibres, particularly:

  • kōzo, a long, strong natural fibre harvested from the inner bark of the paper mulberry tree (Broussonetia)
  • mitsumata, a soft, high-quality bast fibre taken from the Edgeworthia paperbush
  • gampi, a fine, prized bast fibre derived from the inner bark of shrubs in the Wikstroemia family

Papermaking reached Japan from the Asian continent around the 6th–7th centuries, and Japanese makers developed highly refined techniques of their own. By the Nara period (710–794 CE), papermaking was well established and paper was being produced in regions throughout Japan for Buddhist texts, government records and everyday use.

But paper in Japan was never simply about writing.

Washi became part of everyday life, used for architecture, household objects, packaging, umbrellas, screens, containers and clothing. Its remarkable strength comes in part from the long plant fibres used to make it, which interlock within the sheet to create a surprisingly resilient material.

And eventually, Japanese craftspeople discovered another possibility:

Why not turn the paper itself back into fibre and weave it?

Shifu: weaving paper into cloth

This is the tradition known as shifu (紙布), literally, paper cloth.

Instead of treating paper as the finished material, the paper is carefully cut into extremely narrow strips. These strips are twisted or rolled into a continuous thread, which can then be woven on a loom much like other textile fibres.

The result is a textile that looks and behaves surprisingly differently from what we might expect from paper.

Shifu was used in Japan particularly from the Edo period onwards, and paper textiles were worn by people from different parts of society, including farmers, fishermen, Buddhist priests and samurai. Fine examples were also produced by highly skilled makers.

Different qualities of shifu were produced, from practical everyday cloth through to exceptionally fine textiles. Paper thread could be woven with silk, cotton or other fibres, creating fabrics with different weights, textures and characteristics.

In some regions, old or discarded paper was even recycled into shifu thread, giving unwanted paper another life as clothing and household textiles. Historical accounts describe paper from used account books being transformed into thread, with traces of the original ink sometimes remaining visible in the finished cloth.

It is a beautiful example of resourcefulness, but also of something more fundamental: paper was understood not simply as a surface for writing, but as a material with textile possibilities.

Paper that could be worn

There was another remarkable Japanese paper textile tradition: kamiko.

Rather than spinning paper into thread, kamiko involved transforming whole sheets of washi into clothing. The paper was softened, crumpled and worked to develop flexibility, then treated with materials that could strengthen it and alter its resistance to moisture.

The techniques varied, but treatments could include konnyaku starch, persimmon tannin and oils. These changed the surface and handle of the paper and could give the finished material greater strength and water resistance.

Kamiko reached its greatest popularity during the Edo period, when paper clothing was made in different parts of Japan and used by people from different social groups. Today, the practice is much rarer, with only a small number of craftspeople continuing to hold the knowledge required to make it.

It is remarkable to think that something we instinctively associate with fragility could once have been made into clothing strong enough for practical everyday use.

So, is paper really strong enough?

This is perhaps the most interesting part for a modern textile crafter.

We tend to associate paper with something that tears, becomes soggy and falls apart. But paper isn't one material.

It is a structure made from cellulose fibres.

The properties of that structure depend enormously on the plant source, fibre length, processing, density, construction and finishing. And once that fibre becomes yarn, the way it is twisted, woven or knitted changes its behaviour again.

Washi itself is valued for the strength of its plant fibres. Kōzo in particular produces long fibres well suited to papermaking and paper thread. Traditional shifu is known for being light, breathable and surprisingly durable.

When paper is transformed into yarn and woven or knitted, it can produce textiles that feel very different from the sheet of paper from which they began.

And that is where things become particularly interesting.

Paper is not necessarily fragile. It is simply a very different kind of textile material.

Paper yarn for today

The history of shifu is fascinating, but you don't need to travel back to Edo-period Japan to experience the possibilities of paper as a textile fibre.

Today, Japanese makers continue to explore paper in remarkably inventive ways, creating yarns that can be knitted, woven and worked into contemporary textiles.

And one of the things that makes paper yarn so interesting is just how different it can be.

Paper doesn't produce one particular kind of yarn or fabric. Depending on how it is cut, folded, twisted, spun, combined and constructed, it can become soft and silky, crisp and structured, light and voluminous, or wonderfully tactile.

A few of the paper yarns we've chosen for Calm Creativity show just how diverse this material can be.

Wagami

Wagami is an exceptionally light and soft paper yarn with a delicate, lightly folded paper strip that creates volume without adding weight.

It has an almost ethereal quality. Worked on its own, it can create modern, captivating fabrics, while its lightness makes it an easy yarn to take with you wherever you are making.

There is something particularly appealing about the way the paper strip holds its own presence within the fabric without making the finished textile feel heavy.

Washi

Washi follows the tradition of noble Japanese paper yarns, but with an exceptionally soft, silky touch.

Made from 54% paper and 46% viscose, the twisted viscose thread gives the Japanese paper yarn stability and strength. Its structure creates a light, even fabric that beautifully highlights lace patterns and other delicate textures.

And unlike some paper yarns, Washi is washable. We recommend hand washing.

It is a lovely example of how paper can be combined with another fibre to create a yarn that retains the distinctive qualities of paper while becoming remarkably soft and versatile.

Tategami

Tategami takes paper in another direction altogether.

Made using paper with a cotton core and a linen-like construction, and spun using a chenille process, it combines structure, softness, lightness and volume.

The result is a yarn with real presence. It can be used to create summer garments with a beautiful sense of airiness, or introduced into a project when you want to add a distinctive, almost sculptural detail.

With 65% paper and 35% cotton, Tategami is another reminder that the character of a paper yarn depends as much on its construction as on the fibre itself.

Chatea

The Chatea series takes a simpler approach.

Made from 100% paper fibre, these yarns have a distinctive straw-like texture. The sturdy paper is formed into a tape-like material that is airy and light, making it particularly appealing for summer projects.

It is a natural choice for hats and bags, but its possibilities extend beyond knitting. Paper yarn can also be used for wrapping, interior decoration and other creative projects.

Even the name has a playful connection to Japanese everyday life. “Chatea” combines cha, the Japanese word for tea, with the English word “tea”, inspired by the relaxing ritual of enjoying tea.

It seems an appropriate name for a yarn that invites a slower kind of making.

Pom Pom Paper Yarn

And then there is Pom Pom Paper Yarn, which takes the idea somewhere completely different.

Made from 84% paper, 14% acrylic and 2% nylon, it combines a paper yarn base with a colourful twisted butterfly braid, creating playful pom-pom-like accents as you work.

The idea is wonderfully simple: even a straightforward knitted fabric can become something unexpected simply through the character of the yarn.

It is a good reminder that textile design doesn't always begin with a complicated pattern.

Sometimes, it begins with finding a material that already has something to say.

A different way of thinking about paper

Perhaps that is what makes paper yarn so compelling.

We tend to think of paper as something flat. Something we write on, fold, print on or throw away.

But the history of shifu shows that paper can also be a textile material. And contemporary Japanese paper yarns show us that the possibilities are far from exhausted.

A paper strip can be folded, twisted, spun, combined with another fibre or transformed through an entirely different construction. It can become silky or crisp, soft or structured, delicate or sculptural.

For a textile maker, that opens up a fascinating field of experimentation.

What happens when a traditional woven structure meets a paper yarn?

What does paper bring to a lace pattern?

How does a lightweight yarn change the character of a summer garment?

What happens when you combine paper with cotton, viscose, wool, silk or other fibres?

These are not really questions about whether paper can become cloth.

Japan answered that question centuries ago.

They are questions about what kind of cloth paper can become.

And perhaps that is where the history of shifu becomes most relevant to contemporary making.

The remarkable thing isn't simply that paper can become yarn.

It is that something as familiar and humble as paper can be transformed into something so unexpected, beautiful and full of possibility.

Sometimes, the most interesting fibres are the ones we thought we already understood.

 

Shop paper yarns at Calm Creativity here