(This article expands on posts I shared on Threads in October 2024.)
In the 1990s, I developed fabrics for Yohji Yamamoto’s collections. At the time, Yohji was among the most influential creators in global fashion. The intensity of that work still anchors my approach to textile development today—I’d like to record a few memories here.
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Yohji had a brilliantly talented right hand—let’s call him Mr. N—who also orchestrated fabric development. He regularly visited mills across Japan to gather starting-point material information. Thanks to his character and trust with suppliers, that nationwide tour became a living map of Japan’s textile regions.
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Mr. N’s role was to translate Yohji’s theme into fabrics—not by naming cotton or wool, but by pursuing an image. If the image suggested cotton, then which cotton, approached how? It was a true “zero to one” process built on exploration.
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Choosing the right material for a theme demanded long, focused trial and error—meticulous yet urgent against collection deadlines. Only mills with deep patience could keep pace, because once selected, the time window to weave and finish samples was extremely short.
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My own work began with sample books of advanced yarns developed overseas. I evaluated them one by one, selected the best candidates, mapped them into several weave specs, and produced swatches. That’s when I glimpsed Yohji’s insistence: “design everything with single yarns.” Why? To draw out the raw character of the material itself.
Designing and weaving with singles can be extremely challenging—sometimes nearly impossible depending on the fiber. For instance, worsted wool is almost always woven with two-ply yarn, never singles. Yet Yohji created a singles wool, the legendary “wool single-yarn gabardine,” which became a core material. I’ve handled it: incomparable beauty, drape, spring, and tailoring presence—surely difficult to sew, but breathtaking in result.
Note: There may also have been gabardine and tropical variants.
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Back to my project. The yarn Mr. N chose was “Canapa,” a 100% hemp yarn revived by Italian linen spinners using traditional Italian methods. Imagining Yohji’s collection, I planned a rough-canvas density to highlight its slightly woolen-like texture, then specified delavé (medium-white, uneven) dyeing for a chambray effect. Subtle warp–weft contrast would deepen the color.
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Next came selections for the collection: leading mills from across Japan gathered at the office. In groups of about five, each presented fabrics finished via the latest technologies or time-honored techniques. Although we were competitors in daily business, we openly debated, sharpening ideas and elevating technique. That passion in the room is unforgettable. Time and again, the textiles were so extraordinary they sent chills down my spine. I felt proud of the Japanese mills that underpin Yohji’s work.
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So what became of my Canapa fabric? It ultimately wasn’t used in the Yohji Yamamoto collection—the theme shifted and the direction changed. Fortunately, it was adopted by Ys. Thanks to Yohji and Mr. N’s consideration—“not for the collection, but for Ys”—it turned into a sizable order with a happy outcome.
But the story didn’t end there. Ys was known for being rich with cutting-edge Japanese fabrics developed under Yohji, and other brands often came seeking them. The following year, Canapa was adopted by Jil Sander; the year after, Prada ordered a modified version. For the mills, that sequence—Year 1 Yohji, Year 2 Jil Sander, Year 3 Prada—created an ideal virtuous cycle and spurred even greater R&D investment.
Through this process, Japan’s fabric development kept refining skills across regions, updating techniques, and—through the conduit of Yohji Yamamoto—projected Japanese textiles and garment-making to the world. It was the 1990s. My respect for Yohji remains undiminished.
“Imagining fabric from an image, starting at zero.” That era invested time and care in precisely this—and I believe it crystallized into the true intelligence of Japanese craftsmanship: an authentic “Made in Japan” quality. Today, as we reflect on what fuels our pride in Japanese manufacturing, we keep challenging ourselves to develop the next chapter.
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Postscript: Over time, Canapa evolved. Its grosgrain-like surface—fine warp with a heavier weft—still echoes in today’s Prada bag collections.
