Companies in Japan Ditch Dress Codes to Win Workers…

In a country famous for rigid workplace conformity, something remarkable is happening: Japanese companies are letting employees dye their hair pink, paint their nails, and wear jewelry to work. This isn't a fashion revolution—it's a labor market necessity.

When 22-year-old Hinako Mori moved to Tokyo, she deliberately chose to work at Don Quijote, a major discount retailer, for one specific reason: they don't police her hair color. Sporting ash blonde locks with light and dark blue streaks, Mori changes her hair color every six weeks—something that would have been unthinkable at her previous job.

"One time, I dared to dye my hair blonde," Mori recalled about working at a major convenience store chain that mandated black or dark brown hair. "But the next day, I was told to either wear a wig or use spray-on color. It was very stressful."

That stress is exactly what a growing number of Japanese companies can no longer afford to impose. Squeezed by the country's historic labor shortage, businesses are abandoning decades-old appearance rules in a desperate bid to attract and retain workers. The shift represents one of the most visible signs yet that Japan's traditional top-down workplace culture is being forced to evolve—not by choice, but by demographic reality.

The Numbers Behind the Desperation

Japan's labor crisis isn't coming—it's already here, and it's getting worse.

The country's working-age population has plummeted 16% since peaking in 1995, according to OECD data. With rapid aging and limited immigration, this trend shows no signs of reversing. The impacts are hitting businesses hard: two-thirds of Japanese firms report that labor shortages are having serious business impacts, according to a Reuters survey.

The shortage has become the leading cause of Japanese bankruptcies. During April-September 2025, labor-related business failures hit their highest level for a first-half period in 12 years, according to Tokyo Shoko Research.

When companies can't find workers, they fail. It's that simple, and that urgent.

Young Workers Are Voting With Their Feet—and Their Hair

The labor shortage has created an unexpected power shift: young workers, particularly those seeking part-time positions, suddenly have leverage they've never had before.

An April 2025 survey by job information and recruitment firm Mynavi revealed telling statistics: two-thirds of students believe they should be able to choose their appearance when working part-time. More importantly, one-third said they had withdrawn job applications specifically because of restrictive dress codes at potential employers.

Read that again: employers are losing one in three applicants over dress code policies.

"Students aren't just looking for work experience or to earn money; they seem to be seeking something more in their jobs—a sense of freedom or comfort," explained Shota Miyamoto, a researcher at Mynavi.

That quest for freedom is forcing companies to make a choice: adapt or go understaffed.

The Dominoes Are Falling

Don Quijote led the charge three years ago when it relaxed rules concerning hair and nail polish. The results speak for themselves: nearly a quarter of employees now sport brightly colored hair. When brown is included, 55% of the company's workforce has hair that isn't the traditional black.

The company isn't suffering for it—if anything, the policy has become a competitive advantage in attracting workers.

Other retailers are following suit:

Fuji Yakuhin, a drugstore chain, eliminated a plethora of rules for non-pharmacist employees. The company now allows any hair color, nail art, heavy makeup, and all kinds of rings, whereas previously only wedding rings were permitted.

Tokyu Store supermarkets have dialed back restrictions on hair color, hairstyle, accessories, nail polish, and piercings.

Even some major corporations are loosening up. Japan Airlines recently joined subway operator Tokyo Metro and budget carrier Skymark Airlines in allowing staff to wear sneakers to work—a small change that signals larger cultural shifts.

Notably, these changes are happening fastest at smaller companies facing more acute labor shortages than larger firms and lacking the financial resources to compete purely on wages. When you can't pay more, you need to offer something else. Autonomy over personal appearance has become that bargaining chip.

A Gradual Evolution, Not a Sudden Rebellion

This shift didn't happen overnight. Japan Inc. has been gradually relaxing dress codes over the past two decades, though the pace has accelerated dramatically in the past year.

The catalyst came in 2005 with the Environment Ministry's "Cool Biz" campaign, which encouraged companies to ditch jackets and ties to reduce summer air conditioning costs. While framed as an environmental initiative, it opened the door to questioning rigid dress code traditions.

Since then, summer dress codes have become more casual, department stores stopped mandating uniforms for many employees, and taxi drivers were told white gloves were optional rather than required.

But the current wave of changes around hair color, nail polish, and accessories represents something more fundamental. These aren't just about comfort or practicality—they're about personal expression and individual autonomy in a culture that has historically prized conformity above all else.

The Limits of Change

Before declaring a complete cultural transformation, it's important to recognize the boundaries that remain firmly in place.

Personal appearance norms that have become common in the West—like multiple piercings or facial piercings—are still generally unacceptable at most Japanese companies. Workers with tattoos, traditionally associated with yakuza organized crime, are almost universally asked to conceal them so as not to intimidate customers.

The changes also haven't fully penetrated traditional big-name Japanese corporations. At Sumitomo Mitsui Banking, for example, there are no explicit policies about hair or nail polish, but it's "generally understood among employees that their personal appearance shouldn't create waves."

That phrase—"shouldn't create waves"—captures the tension perfectly. The unwritten rules remain powerful even as the written ones disappear.

Tellingly, students surveyed by Mynavi don't expect the same freedoms in full-time work as they do in part-time positions. The assumption persists that "real" careers require conformity, while temporary or part-time work allows for personal expression.

What This Means Beyond Japan

Japan's experience offers lessons for aging societies worldwide, particularly in Europe and East Asia where similar demographic patterns are emerging.

When labor becomes genuinely scarce, power shifts from employers to workers—sometimes in unexpected ways. Companies that cling to arbitrary rules for their own sake lose out to competitors willing to adapt.

The changes also reveal which workplace rules were truly necessary and which were simply tradition masquerading as professionalism. If Don Quijote can operate successfully with a quarter of its workforce sporting brightly colored hair, what does that say about companies insisting on natural hair colors "for professional reasons"?

Finally, Japan's situation demonstrates how demographic realities can force cultural evolution faster than social movements. Young Japanese workers didn't stage protests demanding the right to dye their hair—they simply applied elsewhere. In a tight labor market, that's all it took.

The Deeper Question

Beneath the surface story about hair color and nail polish lies a more profound question: What does "professionalism" actually mean, and who gets to define it?

For decades, Japanese companies equated professionalism with uniformity. Black hair, conservative dress, minimal accessories—these markers signaled seriousness, dedication, and respect for the workplace. Anyone who deviated was presumed to lack these qualities.

But workers like Mori are now challenging that equation. Does her ash blonde hair with blue streaks make her any less capable of stocking shelves? Does a retail employee's nail art affect their customer service skills? Does a banker's natural hair color have any bearing on their financial acumen?

The labor shortage is forcing honest answers to these questions, and increasingly, those answers are "no."

What's emerging is a more nuanced understanding of professionalism—one that focuses on actual job performance rather than superficial markers of conformity. If you do your job well, serve customers effectively, and contribute to your workplace, does it really matter what color your hair is?

In a labor market where workers are scarce and valuable, the answer companies are reaching is clear: No, it doesn't matter. Or at least, it matters less than having enough staff to operate.

Looking Ahead

Japan's labor crisis isn't going to resolve itself. The working-age population will continue declining for decades. Immigration remains politically contentious and unlikely to fill the gap at scale. Birth rates show no signs of recovering to replacement levels.

This means the power shift from employers to workers will likely continue and deepen. Companies that adapt will thrive; those that cling to traditional rigidity will struggle to staff their operations.

We're likely to see further relaxation of workplace rules in the coming years—not just around appearance, but around work hours, remote work options, career path flexibility, and other policies that have traditionally favored employer control over worker autonomy.

The question for traditional Japanese corporations is whether they'll adapt proactively or wait until labor shortages force their hand. Early movers like Don Quijote have already gained competitive advantages in recruiting. Late adopters risk finding themselves unable to staff positions at all.

For workers, especially young people entering the labor market, this represents a historic opportunity. Generational power dynamics in Japan have traditionally heavily favored older workers and managers. But when companies desperately need young workers, those young workers gain unprecedented leverage to demand changes.

Mori's ability to choose an employer based on hair color policies would have been unthinkable a decade ago. Today, it's not just possible—it's normal. And that shift represents something far more significant than fashion choices.

It represents the beginning of a new social contract in Japanese workplaces, one where workers have voices and companies must listen. In a country where workplace culture has been notoriously resistant to change, that's genuinely revolutionary.

The labor shortage is painful for businesses, but it's creating space for long-overdue cultural evolution. And it's doing so faster than decades of advocacy could have achieved.

Sometimes, demographic reality accomplishes what social movements cannot. Japan's rigid workplace culture isn't loosening because companies became more progressive—it's loosening because they have no other choice.

And that might be the most effective catalyst for change there is.