YOHJI YAMAMOTO
Winter 1995
Jap Magazine Vol.2 No.7
Drama Trap
He has everything under control;
She's just given a costume and put on stage;
No dialogue, no choreography;
But as soon as she put on the costume;
She understands everything;
He observes her with a cunning smile;
He is watching her closely to see how she will transform when she wears his costume;
What's unfolding on stage is a silent drama;
She seems to have fallen right into his trap;
However, if you look closely, you can see that she is gradually breaking free from the spell of the costume, and gradually gaining her freedom;
In fact, it is he who is being led into a trap.
Needless to say, he is Yohji Yamamoto.
She, the four models, are AMANDA, MAIKO, Asami Ishikawa, and DANIELA U.
Photography by Goro Arizona, styling by Tomoko Yasuno, hair and makeup by Tomita Sato.
This drama has no ending.
You can enjoy yourself as a spectator for as long as you like.
You can also enjoy the pleasure of participating in this drama and exploring its ending by yourself.
Photography Goro Arizona
Styling Tomoko Yasuno
Hair and Make up Tomita Sato
Photographed at Warelights Photo Studio
All dresses by Yohji Yamamoto.
For details, see In the Pages.
I feel that Yohji's collections of the past three seasons have a different sense of “dreadfulness” than in the past. The more beautiful, lustrous, and ephemeral the clothes appear, the more I feel the “dreadfulness” of Yohji's inner story, just like the cherry blossoms he used. A man always thinks of departing on a journey again someday. Anyone who has traveled in their youth will think of leaving again when they have passed the halfway point of their life. The destination of that journey is a place that should be possible, but it does not matter where it is. It does not matter where it is, because it is a journey on the impulse to go wild with new goals, to meet the "other" within oneself.
Interview Takeji Hirakawa
Takeji Hirakawa: I believe that fashion is a product of freedom. However, when I look at the recent fashion scene in Tokyo, I see that the designers are not holding down what needs to be held down, and their behavior, including their work, is not up to par. I get the impression that fashion, which is a product of freedom, is becoming a little different. I would like to hear what you have to say about these aspects of the fashion scene, keeping in mind that Jap's readers are young.
As far as I can see, Mr. Yohji produced a brilliant couture-like collection for Autumn/Winter 1987-1988. What I liked about the Autumn/Winter 1995-1996 collection was the “delicateness” of the past until now, and the way the clothes, although they are made by a man, ask women “Would you wear my clothes?” in a careful manner. In addition to this, I found the boldness in the creations to be appealing. You created boldly and delicately.
First of all, could you tell us what kind of world the “Yohji-style new couture” is?
Yohji Yamamoto: I am surprised at myself that I never get tired of it, but what impresses me is the curve of a woman's back, seen from the side, or from a slightly oblique angle. This is the ultimate couture for me. Whether it is that exquisite curve, a straight piece of cloth put against it and inflating with air to improve ventilation, or else some abnormal construction, this is couture for me. I am moved by a woman's curves; I place the fabric on them, or rather, I let it drift. So that at that point, there may be no mode or fashion.
I think the most forgotten aspect of couture today is the material. Fabric is a living thing, so I always try to imagine how it will hang, how it will stretch, how it will flow, and so on as an ideal beauty. The most exciting part of couture is the moment when I place the fabric on the most beautiful part of a woman's body, to the point that my hands tremble. I don't know, because I haven't met Chanel in person, but with ideas that have been called so revolutionary, they make everything from sports-like things to knee-length skirt suits that are called “Chanel” no matter where they go wrong. And the thing I don't understand the most about Chanel's work is the Chanel suit. I’m sure that when you look at the real thing, you can see the quality of the material, the braiding, and the perfection of this expensive piece of work, but I still don't understand what’s revolutionary about it. So when people use the word couture to describe my work, I feel a kind of, “Well, that's a problem.” I don't really intend to do couture.
Hirakawa: I, too, have been following Mr. Yohji's collections for a long time, and I felt that the world you wanted to create was not limited to so-called "new couture," but was "Yohji-style couture”. So I began to wonder what "Yohji's style" was. As such, are you able to create couture only now that you have gone through so many trials, or was this collection necessary in order to move forward into tomorrow?
Yamamoto: ... The reason why I "ended up" with this is that I worked with the straight lines of 37 cm wide kimono fabrics all year round, and, after two seasons of working with straight lines, I was no longer impressed, so I began to think about construction this time. My original intention was to express the contrast between the beauty of straight lines and of composition while constructing, but for this collection, I eliminated kimono-like straight lines. If you want to ask me why that is, I don't even know myself.
There is one reason why I think it is inevitable to be called couture. To put it awfully simply, when I produce a garment focusing on the beauty of various lines such as the shoulders, the sides, the collar, the lapels, etc., I am always told that it is “couture.” I am not trying to make it couture, but that is the result of focusing on the lines. So, although it is a logical consequence, couture is originally about focusing on the lines. And those lines, because fabric is a living thing, have the relative density that double-width fabric naturally has when it is cut to 1.5 m. To compose such a thing in a piece of clothing, the minus line of the front shoulder line and the plus line of the back create a mechanical balance, and, when it is accomplished in an interesting way as well, it becomes couture. However, if you want to make the most of the relative density, weight, and materiality as a living thing that fabric possesses, you end up with this way of making. In short, if you are getting down to pre-design problems, it becomes remarkably couture-like. “A single shoulder line is a design.” It is paradoxical.
Hirakawa: Whether it is how the sewing methods are applied to make the creases look good or to eliminate them, those are ultimately the limits of couture, how to make creases look beautiful; in other words, how can patterns make creases look beautiful or else how patterns can eliminate them—I think this is what it comes down to. In that sense, I thought this collection was skillfully composed of creases, folds, pleats, sagging layers of fabric, and other such elements. In that sense too, I thought that the collection was couture. In 19th century European couture, the body line of a woman was disgraceful. That is, it was important to remove creases to make them look beautiful. Nowadays, women's body lines are becoming more balanced and beautiful, and I felt that you knew exactly how to add or remove creases to make women's bodies, which are becoming more beautiful, look even more beautiful.
Yamamoto: You’ve realized already (laughs).
Hirakawa: Yes, you know exactly what I mean (laughs). But not many people understand that, do they? I know you probably haven't seen it, but this season in Tokyo, there were many young people who ran with the couture-like trend and put on shows, but they don't really understand it. They don't understand how to take and handle the "living fabric," as mentioned earlier. But the creases of a kimono are totally different from those of Western-style clothing, aren't they?
Yamamoto: The creases you refer to, Mr. Hirakawa, are drapes or something like flares, not pleats, right? In my case, the woman I imagine is the one who passes in front of me from behind in a diagonal line.
Hirakawa: Isn't that like the hanamichi in kabuki?
Yamamoto: Designing with the image in mind of people passing by or leaving is, in a cool way, called "designing the wind.” To design the wind, I know how to make it couture—for example, if I shorten it here by 1 cm, it will hang and bounce better, and so on—and I know this very well (laughs).
Hirakawa: That means you know very well women’s demeanor and behavior to look beautiful (laughs).
Yamamoto: In other words, it is about the extent to which I am always deeply moved by women’s demeanor and deportment and how much I look at it. It is in comparison to how much I like them, isn't it? And basically, I love women (laughs). Since I really love women, I make clothes, and I love women more than I should say (laughs).
Hirakawa: I understand. Another thing that I see in your clothing, Mr. Yohji, is your sense of distance from women. By asking "Will you wear my clothes?” you are setting a distance. That is why a good Yohji collection is when I can read what kind of woman you are in love with just by looking at the female image. And that female image has hardly changed to this day. Even if it is now said to be couture in appearance, women with a cool demeanor facing diagonally still correspond to your sense of beauty and coolness in women. However, has the distance between you and these women the same as it used to be, is it looking even narrower, or has the distance been getting farther away or drawing near?
Yamamoto: Yes, yes, so to answer that, let me take Freud's words. It's up on the wall. (Picks up a Xerox copy of Freud's picture and quote on the wall.)
Hirakawa: What does it mean to you to make women look beautiful?
Yamamoto: Well, paradoxically, I only want beautiful women to wear my clothes. The power of my clothes is not enough to make a woman look beautiful, that’s why.
Hirakawa: With your clothes, even when I haven’t seen a collection, I can see someone walking down the street and realize "Oh, that person is wearing Yohji.” The reason why I can tell is that your clothes have eroticism. They are not “sexy” but sensual. There are really few designers who can convey eroticism with their clothes. No matter how sexy clothing exposing skin may be, eroticism cannot be conveyed. That is, if you are creating feminine beauty, I was wondering what you would consider feminine beauty.
Yamamoto: Oh, I see. I can’t stand a hot mess… That’s why, just like a boy, or perhaps a wreck I should say, barely a woman or the likes (laughs).
Hirakawa: Is that part of getting married, becoming a wife, having children, but still being a woman somehow?
Yamamoto: That's the basis. The general rule. The fundamental principle (laughs). I want her to have the possibility of being a lifelong lover. Even if she becomes a "whatshername" or a "stay-at-home wife," she still is basically just a woman, a woman on her own. In this way, such a woman is rather smart. And at the same time that she has discovered the other, she has also finished discovering herself. She is remarkably sharp. For this reason, she has immeasurable conflicts and clashes with men. Such a woman is so-called unfortunate. And this unfortunate woman, because she is unfortunate, cannot be fat! An unfortunate fatty is…
Hirakawa: Even more unfortunate (laughs). I simply don't like skanks and idiots, though.
Yamamoto: Yes, yes, they are unfortunate. They look lonely and…
Hirakawa: Somber?
Yamamoto: That's the idea.
Hirakawa: Basically, your conception of feminine beauty has not changed, has it?
Yamamoto: It hasn't changed.
Hirakawa: That hasn't changed since you started, has it?
Yamamoto: Yes. So, Freud. (While showing a Xerox copy.) "... The great question that has never been answered and which I have not yet been able to answer, despite my thirty years of research into the feminine soul, is 'What does a woman want?'"
Hirakawa: ... Mr. Yohji, you’re asking yourself the same question.
Yamamoto: Yes.
Hirakawa: "What are women thinking?" That’s what you mean? Does that influence you in your clothes making?
Yamamoto: That comes to be important. What are they thinking? While uttering those doubts, I ask myself the exact same question. I have a hatred for a certain pattern of women, those between the ages of 15-16 and 18 with nothing but a future—this is what I hate. They are fine-looking no matter what they do... After all, a woman who has developed some kind of ego or determination that a man could never match would definitely pass by. If she doesn't pass by as if saying "I have no use for a man," she doesn’t feel eroticism or anything else, does she? And so, a woman who hangs on to a man and saying "Please don't go" is nothing more than a ghost.
Hirakawa: Has the way you distance yourself from women also changed?
Yamamoto: I don't know. I’m not sure. Every time I make a collection, I feel that with age, the distance between me and women only widens.
Hirakawa: Mr. Yohji, you have sex appeal yourself, don't you? One who knows his own sex appeal must also know women's sex appeal, doesn’t he?
Yamamoto: If I have sex appeal, it’s the sex appeal of a mother fucker. I'm only liked by kids and old ladies.
Hirakawa: There are people who have the "friendliness" characteristic of those who were raised by their grandma. Mr. Yohji, you are not like that: you are severe and cold. I think that's because you are someone who properly measures his distance from others, isn’t that right? And this also applies to your view of womanhood. Because you do not make intrusive Western-style clothing. That is why I get surprised when I pass by someone wearing Yohji.
Yamamoto: If such a thing is said to be a merit in a designer, it would be like saying that those who were not raised in a certain way cannot become designers, and I don't think we should be saying that.
Hirakawa: I don't think so, I think that it is the climate that you were brought up in.
Yamamoto: So it is my responsibility, right?
Hirakawa: Yes. I feel like you keep your distance based on that. Whether it is a man or a woman. You like individualism, I think, don't you?
Yamamoto: I admire it, but I also have a pretty stupid bossy side. I can't say no when asked, that kind of stupidity... As for people, understand, right? Whether it is Mr. Issey, Mr. Kenzo, or Mr. Alaia, they all have that "I-want-to-do-something-for-others" aura. However, I’m not so sure when it comes to me. I will often say in front of my employees, "You guys, even if you all went away I can do everything myself." Essentially, I am selling a quarrel with some kind of affection behind it. When I think of myself, the main point that makes me feel most confident about myself, or that makes me able to do what I do, is that I am someone with a great deal of common sense. I am a very decent person. Essentially, I am not a genius or an unusual person. I am an example of what a normal person can do if they try hard enough.
Hirakawa: You are a “normal person” who has cleared several problems in his own way, right?
Yamamoto: My mother often says to me, "No one has succeeded as you have without hardship.” When she says that, I think she is right. I think that's true, even though I have certainly gone through a lot of hardship deep down.
Hirakawa: To a parent, their son is still their son, no matter how old their son is. A parent-child relationship is absolute. But a relationship with another person cannot be absolute, can it?
Yamamoto: In my case, my relationships with others are a result of my upbringing, but I have never had a household, so I do not make much distinction between family and others. This is why employees who have been with me for a long time have a stronger bond with me than with their family members... I don't know, I'm kind of getting tired of people telling me “You are a wonderful person,” you know?
Hirakawa: Have you been told too much?
Yamamoto: Isn't that what these interviews by themselves are all about? There aren't many interviews where people say "You are the damn worst."
Hirakawa: You want to be a depraved old man (laughs)?
Yamamoto: Yes. I want to be sloppy.
Hirakawa: You’ve always wanted to be that, haven't you?
Yamamoto: I want to be, but I can't.
Hirakawa: Because of society and your mother's eyes.
Yamamoto: Middle age is sad, isn't it? There is something impudent, shameless, and conceited about it. I know it gets tiresome to care, but before you know it, it’s all “me, me” and annoying.
Hirakawa: When you live in the fashion world, there is a point where you become “me, fashion,” don't you?
Yamamoto: Yes. Fashion, in particular, is different from ordinary art in that it has many more components. It has to be deployed as “consumer goods”. It has to sell a certain amount and it has to be popular. Popularity and sales have to be proportional. I think it's a really common profession. Everyone wants to be the best. If you take every single one of those things seriously, it gets exhausting, you know?
Hirakawa: The structure of countries and cities in this era, in other words, creation, is becoming a structure for individualists, isn't it? For example, many Paris-like cafés are beginning to appear in the city now. I think this is a manifestation of the individualist urban structure. People are unconsciously becoming conscious of the relationship between themselves and others. I think this is also becoming apparent in the urban structure. I think the café is an urban structure resulting from Parisian individualism.
Yamamoto: That is what the Japanese lack. The most important aspect of individualism is to know others. Recognizing that there are other people who are different from you, right?
Hirakawa: By knowing others, we recognize our own existence.
Yamamoto: I think the current individualism in Japan is not quite refined. That is, to have a better sense of oneself by knowing others and so on is a painful thing. In other words, the more you know, the more you suffer.
Hirakawa: There is also individualism in clothing design, isn't there?
Yamamoto: Yes. I have been thinking about this for about 20 years, and I think it will never change: "Clothes that are not imposed.” If anything, it's the kind of clothing you dump on the floor and say, “If you like it, wear it.” After that, it’s clothing that says, “If you have no use for it, throw it away.” In particular, boutiques were made difficult to enter because of the perception that "people who have no business in the area are not allowed to come in.” They bet everything on prêt-à-porter. This means that the people who make the clothes and the people who wear the clothes must always be on equal footing.
Hirakawa: In those circumstances, Mr. Yohji, you maintain a certain distance from women.
Yamamoto: So I guess I'm vain.
Hirakawa: Is that sex appeal? Is that beauty to women? What does making a woman look beautiful mean to you, Mr. Yohji?
Yamamoto: Generally, I never thought of a person who is facing me from the front as beautiful. I think the way they work, or the way they go about what they are passionate about, is beautiful.
Hirakawa: That is different from what Westerners consider fashion, isn't it?
Yamamoto: Maybe not.
Hirakawa: Up until now, fashion made by Westerners for Westerners has been straightforward, hasn’t it? They say, "See?” You were surprised that there was such a way of looking at and relating to women when you first came to Paris in your early days—wasn't that your impression of Paris?
Yamamoto: I think there were both those who were surprised and those who accepted it as given. For example, Irene, who has been helping me with my work for several years, often tells me that when she was an adolescent, she was very uncomfortable with men looking at her with curiosity, so together with Sarah Moon and others, she would only wear large black cotton garments. Sometimes her mother would throw away all of her clothes. So black clothes were nothing new to them. In that sense, the foundation is the same all over the world. In what kind of countries is fashion possible? Countries that are not dominated by religion. Such countries are quite rare, I think.
Hirakawa: So those are countries where freedom is acknowledged as freedom and can be celebrated.
Yamamoto: Yes, they are.
Hirakawa: This is a totally different topic, but what were you doing in 1968? You went to Paris in 1969, right?
Yamamoto: I went to Paris in 1969? So, I was a student in '68?
Hirakawa: Speaking of 1968, it was the year of the student movement in our generation, right? In Paris, there was the May Revolution. I was wondering how you were involved in such matters at that time.
Yamamoto: That’s right. I was the kind of person who didn't think it was cool to get concerned about such things. When I saw seniors and juniors making a fuss about the Japanese student movement back then, all I could think was, “If you do that, you'll make the police stronger.”
Hirakawa: Actually, state power has become stronger, hasn’t it?
Yamamoto: If you're going to fight back, you have to fight back for the rest of your life.
Hirakawa: Mr. Yohji, you’re going to fight back with Western-style clothing for the rest of your life, aren't you? Vivienne (Westwood) said when I interviewed her, “Avant-garde is elegant.”
Yamamoto: That's what Irene always says too. Beautiful things are always elegant. What is attractive in each generation is always elegant. This is why rock 'n' roll is elegant, punk is elegant. In that sense, elegant women are the ideal figure. When you say, "That woman is elegant," it is not because she wears sophisticated clothes of bygone days that she is elegant, right?
Hirakawa: What do you think of the modern era? Do you approve or disapprove?
Yamamoto: The modern era? At least, I like it better than the Middle Ages.
Hirakawa: How do you feel about the modern era, Mr. Yohji, that's the point I don't understand right now. I am not sure whether you approve or disapprove of the present days, whether you like it or dislike it.
Yamamoto: I don't really know, because I have never thought about it so conceptually. No matter what era I live in, if you mean the “present”, I love the “present”. The “modern era” as a concept… I don't understand it. So, as Wim Wenders says in Wings of Desire, the things that can only be understood in the present, for instance, the taste of a good cigarette, the things that cannot be understood after death, are precious.
Hirakawa: What is the connection between then and now, the clothes you make as part of your work, and the women who wear them?
Yamamoto: ... Lately, I have been thinking that my clothes might be hard to wear in the so-called “street,” in the city, in everyday life.
Hirakawa: From a wearer's point of view, these Western-style clothes are difficult to handle. But people assume them to be "elegant clothes," don't they?
Yamamoto: Yes. Heavy clothes, old-fashioned clothes seem elegant. I am aware of this, but if you ask me if I can make clothes that match the "lightness" of the “present” era, I can't do that. My own emotions do not allow me to. I want to make clothes that say, "Women are better than this.”
Hirakawa: You don't want to come all the way down to the "present" and say, "Come on, let's soar higher.”
Yamamoto: ... Sometimes I wish I could, and I do it occasionally, but as a result, the work doesn't.
Hirakawa: Do you get the sense that when someone reaches out their hand, you pull them?
Yamamoto: If they are willing to climb up the stairs, I will at least pull their hand.
Hirakawa: That is the kindness of Mr. Yohji, isn’t it? Because when looking at the people around, they sometimes grasp with a cold hand.
By the way, do you still bring samples to Paris before coordinating your show?
Yamamoto: Generally, since each of my pieces of clothing is not quite complete, I only combine and layer them, right? That's why I don't know what to expect until I arrive in Paris and open the boxes. The look in Paris is different from the look in Japan.
Hirakawa: You are very skillful in coordinating that, aren’t you? For something like menswear, you are especially skillful.
Yamamoto: It’s called "Yamamoto in a nutshell." ... I always wonder why no newspaper or magazine is doing an interview with Issey Miyake, Yohji Yamamoto, and Rei Kawakubo. Would Mr. Issey hate it (laughs)?
Hirakawa: Many people probably think that it's impossible (laughs). I think it would be very interesting if it came true. By the way, how do you like Paris?
Yamamoto: Paris is where you are always walking with a different young woman, Mr. Hirakawa (laughs).
Hirakawa: How was Paris like after 10 consecutive years? A monster? A yōkai?
Yamamoto: Pretty good, an honest yōkai, a monster.
Hirakawa: A bottomless yōkai? Otherwise, it wouldn't last, would it? In America, the answer is arithmetic, isn't it?
Yamamoto: It's too linear and scary.
Hirakawa: In that sense, what about Tokyo?
Yamamoto: If I’m abroad, when I hear “What about Tokyo?”, I always answer like a tape recorder, “It's similar to answering about myself, and I'm too embarrassed to answer.” I neither like it nor dislike it. But when I hear it now again from you, Mr. Hirakawa, I have to answer it seriously: yes, I do…
Hirakawa: Paris is a monster, but Tokyo has not yet become a monster, has it?
Yamamoto: It hasn’t. Everyone coming from the countryside is pretending to be from the city.
Hirakawa: Getting their feet on the ground, they are struggling to do it.
Yamamoto: And country bumpkins are more successful. Are Tokyo people too shy to succeed? Well then, I'm not sure if I'm siding with Tokyo people, like the chic ones, stylish ones, and things like that—I hate the attitude of Tokyoites who put themselves on a high pedestal and look down on others.
Hirakawa: You yourself are holding the safe tile and have a bird's eye view of the situation, right?
Yamamoto: That's why I feel relieved when I go to Osaka.
Hirakawa: What about Tokyo fashion, are you aware of any problems?
Yamamoto: Lately, I've been noticing two types in particular: the dressmaking school student type, and the 70s looking type… with tight-fitting shirt jackets and bell-bottoms.
Hirakawa: My way of saying is "club skanks" and "cutie skanks."
Yamamoto: Club skanks in the cutie skanks... that's it (laughs). And then there are those who wear a houndstooth mini-skirt and a cape in the same houndstooth pattern with pom poms attached to it. It hangs down sloppily without fluttering... a formless pig state. These are the two things that bother me the most in Tokyo.
Hirakawa: In what kind of way do you care? You're not the target of your own view of women, are you?
Yamamoto: Do I need a lesson on things like this? I’ve heard that I'm behind the times (laughs).
Hirakawa: Last time, I was wondering what was Tokyoite while watching the collection’s show. Mr. Yohji, I was wondering from what kind of perspective you see "Tokyoite things" in your clothes.
Yamamoto: This is going to sound very, very strange, but there is a basic perception that punk is not fostered in Japan… right? I want to stay as far away as possible from such trendy phenomena. That said, if we don't show that Yamamoto is here sometimes, the company will be in danger… but I feel like this is only vaguely true. The thing I feel most strongly about, if I may put myself on a very high pedestal and say, "Fewer women look good in my clothes," I think that's what it means. I used to come across women in Tokyo who would say, "I make clothes for that kind of woman to wear," but more and more these days I don't see such women. This means that I am making clothes for a few rare beings. Still, the past year's collections have sold unusually well compared to previous years. But I have not seen people wearing my clothes on the street. I wonder who wears my clothes and when and where, and I wonder if everyone buys them and hoards them at home. In that sense, I think my clothes have started to lose their sense of reality.
Hirakawa: You know what you are doing, don't you?
Yamamoto: I think so too.
Hirakawa: ... Mr. Yohji, you are now out of this universe, that is my impression. But is this something that you can do now, or is this the result of your efforts to walk the walk?
Yamamoto: You can't lie in a collection. A collection is what you end up with when you work hard to create it. I don't consciously try to move away from this or keep this away from me. This is the result of my desire to somehow connect with people and communicate. One thing I can say with confidence is that I do not think consumers or women are stupid.
Hirakawa: I heard that when Ms. Kawakubo saw the kimono show that Yohji did at the Sorbonne, she said, "Fine feathers make fine birds" (laughs). "Dear, why are you making clothes like this?" I wonder if that's what she meant.
Yamamoto: It’s not like that. She meant that if the venue is good, even the show will look good, I think. Women are really good at finding other people's weaknesses when it matters most, aren’t they (laughs)? It's a woman's nature, isn’t it?
Hirakawa: I guess it's a physiological problem (laughs).
Yamamoto: After all, when having an important conversation, all they care about is, "This person has one long eyebrow," or something like that (laughs).
Hirakawa: Vivienne mentioned a while back that there were pieces of clothing that ask, "Do you like people?" Do you like people?
Yamamoto: Such a difficult question... I can’t answer it.
Hirakawa: If someone has a part that I don't have, I have to rely on them rather than trust them, right?
Yamamoto: I may be a little more desperate than I think. Maybe that's why I started making clothes for people who aren't there.
Hirakawa: As a result of making things for people who are not there, people who you thought might not be there might be there.
Yamamoto: That, I don't get. Buying something and putting it away in your closet right away… Clothes from the past year are so expensive. Especially tie-dye. But I have never met anyone wearing my clothes on the street. Does that mean that they have a private collection at home? I want to bring my clothes, my ideas and feelings down on the street. I want people to wear my clothes to get into fights with men and to go to the supermarket. However, I think my clothes have been put away in the back of the house.
Hirakawa: Is that, Mr. Yohji, the same kind of idea that you have about not wanting your clothes to be put in a museum?
Yamamoto: Same kind. After all, ready-to-wear clothes are only complete when people wear them—I don't want them to become "works of art." Unless people wear them and show me how they are living, I can't go on to the next step.
Hirakawa: This is a different topic, but you like Ango Sakaguchi, don't you? Is it a kind of metaphor for postwar culture?
Yamamoto: Yeah. He is a very fashionable person, isn't he? I could go on and on about Ango.
Hirakawa: Perhaps, given the age range of Jap's readers, many of them are not reading it, I think.
Yamamoto: I doubt they are reading it. He's a man without a masterpiece. For example, he is a latecomer compared to, say, Wagahai wa Neko de Aru [I Am a Cat]. Therefore, he does not have Japanese blood in his veins.
Hirakawa: In that postwar period, he had an avant-garde presence, didn't he?
Yamamoto: There is no balance between presence and work of art, is there? So the more you read, the more pitiful and empathetic it feels. The problem is that there are few masterpieces. His ideas and himself are amazing, but Darakuron [Discourse on Decadence] and Hakuchi [The Idiot] are not masterpieces in any way.
Hirakawa: That's what happens in the fashion world, too.
Yamamoto: Being read by many people or worn by many people is still a proof of the plus of your work of art. And so, no designer thinks it’s okay if their clothes are not worn. No novelist thinks it’s okay if they’re not read. At the same time, however, there is a sense of value at the edge where one cannot compromise one step from this point forward. That is, there is always the awareness of not wanting to sell oneself short and flatter others no matter what kind of expressive activities one engages in.
Hirakawa: Is it possible that couture is the result of this?
Yamamoto: Well, I guess it would be easier to say that it is so, but I am a ready-to-wear designer, so this is a point that I go against every time I am told so. For example, in the past two or three years, when tartan would sell whenever used, I never used tartan. That's the tension that keeps me going. Instead, I spend tremendous energy on each shoulder line and armpit line. Not only would I not permit that, but my desired brand wouldn’t permit it either. This is why getting Yamamoto's OK is not the job of the assistant designer, but rather to see whether the collection is OK or not. In other words, whether or not we are connected to the people of today. What I mean by connection is that there is no such thing as art without power when it comes to those who engage in expressive activities. There is no art without it. Power means passion and communication. However, when you hear from the PR department that the sales of the products you have created are slow, you sometimes want to fall into decadence. However, I’m sure that every designer thinks that it must not come to that.
Hirakawa: After all, this is essentially how designers face fashion and themselves, isn't it?
Yamamoto: Are you trying to achieve your narcissism, passion, and ambition through this tool called fashion, or do you love clothes so much that making them is the only thing you can do? There is a large boundary between those. So, journalists, buyers, and so on are distinguished by whether or not they have the ability to see through that.
Hirakawa: Are there more people in Paris who have that ability to see things through?
Yamamoto: Leading-edge battles unfold twice a year, and sure enough, the fear of the battlefield is what sharpens one's skills. Tokyo is not scary enough. In Europe, there is no such thing as a license. Only in Japan, right? I can't believe they would borrow the names of European designers for business.
Hirakawa: For you, Mr. Yohji, a collection has what kind of purpose?
Yamamoto: Although I think the purpose is no different from any other expressive activity, each collection may nurture me, and I may be able to learn. I think it’s a series of things that I’ve done that raised me higher and moved me forward. That is why I do the collections. Also, the scary thing about fashion design is that once you take a break from a collection, you can't come back to it. No matter whether you like or hate the moment of the times, you have to put yourself in the middle of the times and suffer a lot to be able to see what comes next. This is the only special part of fashion design. While writers can take a few years off to build up their "reserves," designers don't have any reserves.
Hirakawa: Fashion is a perishable commodity of the times, isn’t it? Do you have anything to say to the young people of Tokyo today?
Yamamoto: None (laughs).
Hirakawa: Since Yamamoto, Kawakubo, and Miyake, no one new has emerged. I wonder, will there be someone to knock you down someday, Mr. Yohji? For instance, Western-style clothes are consumer goods, so even if you design a piece of clothing with a plagiarized design, if it sells in the stores, the public will give you a maru. I can see that fear among quite a few young people nowadays. About original creation and how you face yourself and fashion, and whether you are really facing this head-on…
Yamamoto: ... Most young designers aren’t victims of this fashion trend period, I think.
Hirakawa: Victims of what?
Yamamoto: They could have shown their talent in other fields, but they accidentally ended up in fashion—it’s because of that… I say. I wonder how many designers are really designers because "fashion is the only way." ... In other words, victims of the fashion design boom. For example, there are singers like Bob Dylan and Bob Marley who sing because "singing is the only way." The voice itself is the art in the message. And then there are "victim" singers who want to sing but can't, which there is a lot of as well. In my opinion, don't make a business out of longing. It is hard for young people to feel such doubts about whether their earnest wish, even a sad wish, is really there.
Hirakawa: For young people, fashion is not such a thoughtful situation now, is it?
Yamamoto: For a "period of lightness" where clothes can be produced without being too thoughtful and they sell well, then it's fine. The representatives of this, popular at Paris Fashion Week such as the likes of Dries Van Noten, make me feel numb. I live in a different world. I can feel the creations of someone like Martin Margiela. It makes me want to work hard. To the young people emerging from Tokyo, I always want to tell them a few really simple words that are easy to understand, but it just doesn't come out. "You have three years to decide," I think. I want them to decide in 3 years if they are grown-ups or not. If they do the same thing for seven or ten years, "It is not really necessary," I think. As I’ve said before, Tokyo is a city where country bumpkins gather, it is a city where the more country bumpkins you are, the harder you work. I’m a country bumpkin who went to Paris too… I think the most important point for me is "joking". It was "joking" that made me popular in Paris too. It's a great word, but it means an "accidental appearance" (laughs). In a sense, I am not sure if I am open-minded enough to look at myself coldly and say, “I have nothing to lose if I fail.” Mr. Hirakawa, you said that it is difficult for young people to make more than 30 pieces for their collections. I feel the same way, and if a collection consists of 30 items, I can only show truly flawless clothes. But as to why I would show a collection of 70 pieces, I'm going to try and say what I want to say, and whether you like it or you hate it, whether you got it or not, I still think you should try throwing yourself into it until you get exhausted, and if you're not doing what you're supposed to do to beat yourself up, then it is still not good enough. Expression until self-destruction.
Although a parable, Comme des Garçons did a ragged look some time ago by industrially washing and shrinking their clothes. It is called "fulling." At that time, this company elevating itself and fulling its clothes… I thought that was cool. The fulling process is a technique for which data is difficult to establish, and in short, it is a gamble. The world-famous brand is taking a gamble on elevating the company, and that's what makes them so fearless. This means that Comme des Garçons is spiritually younger than the young people of today.
Hirakawa: The collections of young people in Tokyo, do you ever look at them?
Yamamoto: I've had a sudden thought that I'd like to go see them, but I've had a few bad experiences with them before. The ones who are a year older than those considered young now… I went to see them a few times and haven't been back since... Who is that guy who got the Mainichi Rookie's Award recently?
Hirakawa: Mr. Tsumura.
Yamamoto: Yes. He's something, but he's posing as a troubled author…
Hirakawa: Those people, I don't consider them rookies anymore, but what about the young people making clothes for club skanks and cutie skanks?
Yamamoto: I see a lot of potential in this direction, don’t you? Those with pom-poms on them can be erased with sarin, though (laughs).
Hirakawa: It is difficult for Japanese people to overcome the battlefield and create their own situations. Is education the problem, you think? Mr. Yohji, you left Bunka Fashion College and were allowed to go to Paris by your school, right?
Yamamoto: I remember it was the school's policy. As a young man who graduated from a prestigious university, if I became famous in the future, the school's popularity would increase. I thought so when I won the Endo Award, especially. I think I did my best to get the So-En Award. And I was spoiled. I was young, so I was treated well.
Hirakawa: I believe that vocational schools are the place to incorporate aspirations into business.
Yamamoto: That's fine, just like a religious organization at the end of the day (laughs). It's a business.
Hirakawa: With today's scholarly education, it is impossible to train students to be your successors, Mr. Yohji, isn't it?
Yamamoto: If there is a guy gritting his teeth and working hard while being pushed by a teacher at a dressmaker's store in town, he probably has more potential, you understand? In today’s vocational schools’ curriculum, they don't study clothes, do they?
Hirakawa: They don't study the female body either.
Yamamoto: Not at all. Nor do they study fabrics. If you don't study the female body and fabrics, you can't make clothes. The teachers at Bunka Fashion College also feel this way, and they are going to open an haute couture department. Then we'll go to the extreme again this time, won't we? What about hand-sewing?
Hirakawa: In my way of speaking, it is an illusion that making insect-collected specimens of good materials and good sewing equals a good designer. This is completely different from the mood of this era of perishable commodities we mentioned earlier, isn’t it? You said earlier, Mr. Yohji, that the fashion situation in Tokyo “has not become a culture,” didn’t you? You said that there are some business circles saying fashion is just fashion. And then, young people today are strangely overconfident.
Yamamoto: In what way?
Hirakawa: Overconfidence on top of a house of cards.
Yamamoto: Why?
Hirakawa: Even if you make a collage, if it sells well, you become a designer. There is a structure in which if create a collection, you are called a designer. There is no structure in place to truly compete with one's own creations. If you have a certain amount of money and put up a collection, your picture will appear in a magazine's collection feature and you will be called a "Tokyo Collection Participating Designer.” If the price is low, it will sell well and be a source of misunderstanding. It's bad too for the people around you.
Yamamoto: They are cultivating people with illusion, aren’t they? [laughing] There are few occasions when I can really have confidence in my work, so I have to let myself be misunderstood once in a while.
Hirakawa: Is that an assumption about yourself?
Yamamoto: Yes.
Hirakawa: So you are burning your own energy, right?
Yamamoto: Yeah. That is why I learned a lot when I did music [laughing], and the singer has to be drunk to get the message across, after all. An illusion is necessary. [laughing]
Hirakawa: That's pretty much a masculine way of thinking, isn’t it? [laughing]
Yamamoto: … I understand. This is a big problem in Tokyo today. There are too many male designers. [laughing] Sure enough, Chanel, Sonia Rykiel, Vivienne... those people’s existence feels like...
Hirakawa: No malice?
Yamamoto: That’s right. Clever children. They are all in the same subjunctive mood.
Hirakawa: Like insect collecting on summer vacation, they collect tiny insects and arrange them neatly.
Yamamoto: Perhaps it’s because there is no female competitor taking part. If there were great female competitors, the male competitors would be overwhelmed and stimulated. But there is no Chanel, is there?
Hirakawa: "Even a pig can climb a tree when flattered," I feel like the environment is very much like that.
Yamamoto: That is, people say that Japan is having a hard time finding a job, but it's not like young people can't really eat, right? That’s why neither punk nor rock music was not born. European punk is amazing, isn't it? They put their lives on the line.
Hirakawa: I felt that when I interviewed Alexander McQueen. He has the confidence to make himself come alive.
Yamamoto: So, I'm not talking about the student movement mentioned earlier, but where is the motivation to rebel for the rest of one's life? The object of rebellion... I know what Mr. Issey wants to rebel against, and I also know what Mr. Kenzo strived against. Now, I don't know what I am rebelling against.
Hirakawa: Abundance?
Yamamoto: Rebellion against abundance is something we have done for quite some time with "boro fashion," and it’s already old, isn’t it? In that sense, there are three categories for young people today: the old “80s type of avant-garde” in the style of Comme des Garçons and Y's, the simple and chic "Western-style clothing" that sell well, and "couture"... "monozukuri" (“manufacturing”) or something like that. [laughing] Maybe those three.
Hirakawa: That "monozukuri school" is the one that makes insect collecting specimens, isn't it? ... Is there anything else you’d like to say at this time?
Yamamoto: Do I want to say something at this time? "Don't be a ramen shop’s old man." [laughing] If you are self-sufficient as the owner of just one store, you don't have to run a company. I often say this when I meet those guys who have left Y's and still have connections with the company. "You're running a ramen shop, how many employees do you have?” “Oh, just my wife.” ... The bottom line is that independence is the goal. It's pitiful, isn’t it? If I'm going to live a life of self-destruction anyway, I want my parents' money, relatives' money, bank cheats and all, and anyway I want my ego to be thrown around for my own good. Young people today are too tame.
Hirakawa: They may not want to self-destruct. Self-destruction may be scary for young people. That's why they have the "confidence of a house of cards.” It may be an old saying, but I don't think an anarchic way of life is part of the way young people live today.
Yamamoto: Maybe they want to be cool and successful... Looking at it makes my heart ache. It may be cool to be someone who is worried, but the real thing is to be open and honest. All the ones cool and troubled are clownish, aren’t they? The fake ones are more serious. They are trying to make something light seem heavy... I know it must be frustrating to hear me say this again [laughing], but it’s pitiful, isn’t it? You might not really be cut out for it… If I say this, they might rebel against this and try harder. [laughing]
The recipe for his journey began with "nouvelle cuisine japonaise" using 36 cm wide kimono cloth. Then, he finished "nouvelle cuisine française," followed by the previous season, in which he challenged the folds (pleats) head-on in order to "handle the cloth" to become a true couturier.
Did Yohji serve dinner for Parisian couturiers, or was he a propagandist for their empire? Was it as if he were an oriental Zen master preaching the laws or Don Quixote challenging the great windmills? Either way, has Yohji Yamamoto, a man who lies between the value of what he loves and the value of his work, found the "other" in himself on his new journey?
Takeji Hirakawa