À la recherche du temps perdu —Two Scarves and the Memory of Cloth

My friend in France gave me two Hermès scarves. One was a gift to celebrate the launch of my brand, sent along with a beautiful memory of fireflies. The other is a piece worn and loved by her husband’s aunt years ago—a classic, orthodox design featuring noble figures on horseback. Both are irreplaceable treasures to me. When I think about how deeply the Japanese sericulture industry is historically intertwined with France, these two Hermès scarves become even more profound. Because these were not items I simply went out and bought for myself in Tokyo, but rather designs my friend carefully chose specifically for me, I feel an even deeper, irreplaceable attachment to them.

How should one wear a legendary house like Hermès? I choose to style them alongside the Japanese Tsumugi and dyed textiles that I love without end.

Hand-woven Tsumugi that has endured for over a century. Once, this fabric—filled with raw slubs and deemed "unmarketable"—was woven during the quiet winters by farmers. Today, its true value has been rediscovered, making it incredibly precious and revered. The stiff, tightly packed weave does not tear easily; it is a magnificent textile capable of enduring fierce labor.

I transform this timeless Tsumugi into modern armor—this is the coat I create.

The deep architectural white of the century-old Tsumugi dustercoat, 「狭霧 (Sagiri)」, seamlessly framing the spirit of French elegance.

A quiet dialogue of nature: hand-painted autumn leaves on 「散り急ぐ (Chiri-isogu)」 meeting the organic motifs of vintage French silk.

Modern urban rhythm. The distinct texture of Cityduster 「うたかた (Utakata)」 highlighted by a sharp, brilliant blue Hermès knot.

You may never wear a kimono. But you can wear the art of Wasai.

On ne porte pas forcément un kimono. Mais on peut porter l'art du Wasai.

— PASSIONEER

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