The district is named after a body of water that is no longer there. Kinshi-bori, the Kinshi moat, ran near what is now the north exit of the station, along the street called Hokusai-dōri. It is the moat identified with Oiteke-bori, one of the seven wonders of Honjo: you fish there in the evening, and as you turn for home a voice comes up out of the water — leave it behind, leave it behind. You look back and no one is there. You keep walking, reach the house, look into your creel and find it empty. Where the characters kin-shi, gold thread, came from is far less certain. Some say the name is a corruption of kishi-bori, bank moat; some that koto strings were made in the neighbourhood; some that the water simply shone like thread in the morning and evening sun.
The station did not begin with the name either. It opened on 9 December 1894 as Honjo, on the Sōbu Railway, and became Kinshichō only on 1 May 1915. In those years the land south of the tracks was building locomotives — the Tokyo branch of the Kisha Seizō works, which moved out towards Onagigawa in 1931 and left eight thousand tsubo, some 26,000 square metres, standing empty. The man who took the lot was Kobayashi Ichizō, founder of the Hankyū railway and the Takarazuka revue. He set up the Kōtō Rakutenchi company in February 1937, and in December the Kōtō Theatre and the Honjo Cinema opened, together with an amusement park, restaurants and a row of stalls: a whole pleasure quarter delivered at once.
It lasted less than eight years. In the air raid of 10 March 1945, 230,000 houses burned in the Kōtō area alone, and of the Rakutenchi everything was lost except the Honjo Cinema, shielded by the bulk of the theatre beside it. It was rebuilt on the same block. What the Rakutenchi building holds today is a cinema, a bathhouse and sauna, and a department store that moved in in 2019. The moat was filled in, the locomotive works left, the theatre burned. The thing that has lasted longest here is the name given to the water that disappeared.