Tony hires an assistant to wear his late wife’s clothes, then cancels the job
Blind Willow, Sleeping WomanTony Takitani’s attempt to hire an assistant to wear his dead wife’s clothes ends almost as soon as it begins. The episode turns a practical job offer into an experiment in mourning: Tony hopes that seeing another woman in the clothes will make his wife’s absence real, but the collection instead reveals itself to him as a roomful of lifeless remnants, and he withdraws from the arrangement.
The roomful of clothes
After the funeral, Tony is left with a room full of size 7 dresses and 112 pairs of shoes, and no clear way to deal with them. He sells a dealer the hats and accessories for the first price offered, burns the stockings and underthings in the garden incinerator, and leaves the great majority of the dresses and shoes where they are. For a day at a time, he shuts himself in the walk-in closet and stares at the rows filling its every available space. The garments are not simply possessions to sort: they are the material remainder of a life that has ended, and their abundance makes disposal feel as impossible as keeping them.
Ten days after the funeral, Tony places a newspaper advertisement for a female assistant. Alongside good pay and favorable working conditions, it specifies a dress size of 7, a height of approximately 161 centimeters, and a shoe size of 22 centimeters. The unusually high salary brings thirteen applicants to his studio-cum-office in Minami-Aoyama. Five are plainly not telling the truth about their dress size; from the other eight, Tony selects the woman whose build most closely resembles his wife’s. She is in her midtwenties, with an unremarkable face, and arrives in a plain white blouse and tight blue skirt whose age shows despite their neatness.
An employment arrangement shaped by grief
Tony explains that the ordinary duties—answering the telephone, delivering illustrations, collecting materials, and making copies—are not difficult. His one unusual condition is that the assistant wear his wife’s clothing as a kind of uniform. He says that he has recently lost his wife and needs time to make small adjustments to the atmospheric pressure of that absence. Having the woman nearby in the clothes, he believes, may finally bring home to him that his wife is dead and gone. He insists that he has no ulterior motive and presents the request as an effort to accommodate grief, not to claim the woman who has accepted the job.
The applicant cannot quite understand why she must work in the clothes in Tony’s presence. She recognizes the strangeness of the request, but does not think he seems like a bad person, and she has urgent reasons to consider it: she has been searching for work for a long time, her unemployment insurance will expire the following month, and she fears being unable to pay rent. The salary is also unlikely to be matched by another job. She agrees provisionally, asking first to see the clothes and check that they fit.
Tony takes her to the house and shows her the clothing room. She has never seen so many dresses gathered in one place outside a department store. Each is plainly expensive, and the collection’s taste and scale nearly overwhelm her. When Tony leaves her alone to try things on, she finds that the dresses and shoes fit as though made for her. She runs her fingertips over the fabric and breathes in its fragrance; then, wearing one of the dead woman’s dresses, she stands still and weeps, struggling to keep the sound from escaping. Asked why, she can offer no explanation beyond the sight of so many beautiful dresses and the feeling that it has upset her.
The appointment made and unmade
Tony responds to the fitting by asking the woman to start at the office the next day. She spends considerable time selecting six days’ worth of dresses and matching shoes, packs them into suitcases, and accepts his offer to add a warm gray cashmere coat so that she will not be cold. At this point, his private arrangement has become tangible: the dead woman’s wardrobe is about to leave the closet and accompany another person into an ordinary working week.
But when the applicant has gone, Tony returns to the clothing room and looks again at the dresses. He cannot understand why she cried. To him, they are shadows his wife left behind: garments that once took warmth and movement from her body but now hang cut off from the source that gave them life. Their colors, trims, buttons, lace, pockets, and belts crowd his perception, while the mothballs’ smell fills the closed room. What had appeared to offer a way of getting used to his wife’s death becomes hateful to him. He slumps against the wall, closes his eyes, and recognizes that, whatever he does, it is over.
Tony calls the woman and tells her to forget the job, apologizing and saying that the situation has changed and there is no longer work for her. He cannot give her the explanation she presses for. Instead, he tells her she may keep the clothes and shoes she took home, as well as the suitcases, and asks her not to tell anyone what happened. The abrupt cancellation reverses the arrangement without undoing its material consequences: the clothes remain with the applicant even as Tony refuses the role he had devised for her.
What the clothes mean to each of them
The woman is first stunned and then briefly angry at losing the job, but eventually thinks the strange business may have worked out for the best. At home, she smooths the dresses and hangs them in her wardrobe, puts the shoes in the cabinet by the front door, removes her interview blouse and skirt, and changes into jeans and a sweatshirt. Her own clothes now seem to belong to a different kind of matter, fashioned in another dimension. She sits on the floor with a cold beer and recalls the wardrobe’s scale: the clothing room was larger than her entire apartment, and the woman who accumulated the dresses is dead, leaving a roomful of size 7 garments behind.
The same collection therefore carries different, incompatible force. For Tony, the clothes have become signs of a vanished body, and their continued presence intensifies rather than eases the recognition of loss. For the applicant, they are astonishingly beautiful objects, a possible source of work that turns into a gift, and a stark measure of the difference between her circumstances and the dead woman’s. The attempted employment arrangement cannot reconcile those meanings. Tony cancels it, but the garments cross the threshold into another wardrobe, carrying the encounter beyond the moment in which he tries to end it.