Do kabuki tabi differ in colour and height?

Tabi are not merely socks. They fasten with claw-shaped metal clasps on the outer ankle — kohaze — hooked into loops of thread opposite. How many of these there are decides how far the tabi rises up the ankle: more clasps, a higher cut; fewer, a lower one.

Here an aesthetic enters. Four clasps make a short tabi, easy to move in — and it lets the ankle show a little. In Edo, today's Kantō, that glimpse was reckoned dashing, and four is said to have been preferred. In Kansai, five, covering the ankle properly, was the favoured cut. The same object carries a regional difference of taste.

The extreme case is Sukeroku. The tabi of this role — the greatest dandy in Edo — are said to carry only two clasps, so that the ankle is barely covered at all: dash pursued to its end. What shows below the hem alone declares the man's nature, and this is how far kabuki's system of signs reaches. Call it Edo's answer to a pair of heels and the sense comes across: a choice that puts how a thing looks before what it does.

Colour has its office too. White is for formal occasions and is the norm on stage. Navy and black — karasu tabi, "crow tabi" — belong to those who must not be seen, such as the kurogo. White to be seen, black to disappear: even in a pair of socks, which way the thing faces is unmistakable.