There was no mood board at the autumn preview of Setchu. “I just started the collection from a blank sheet of paper,” says designer Satoshi Kuwata. He crumpled a corner of the paper and left the rest intact. It was intended as a gesture that speaks for itself: the margin connecting the wrinkles and the flat surface is the liminal, undefined, limitless space where Kuwata’s (considerable) talent is expressed.
The wrinkles of the paper served as a metaphor for the information conveyed by rich, textured fabrics – tartan, mohair, silk jacquard – while the plain surface was reminiscent of modest, modest materials. The tension between polarities (never a clash, as Kuwata has a penchant for balance and discipline) is what produces Setchu’s hybrids of exquisite sophistication, highly artisanal in execution.
Kuwata wears his multicultural background like a badge of honor, and rightly so, as it defines the unique core of his aesthetic. Japanese by birth, the world is truly his oyster, as there apparently isn’t a country he hasn’t traveled to. He has the art of getting to a T; as an experienced fisherman who also happens to have been trained in strict British tailoring at Savile Row’s H. Huntsman & Sons, looking good has always been a priority, even when catching freshwater fish in the most remote of destinations has always been a priority . Fishing, but make it fashion.
By fishing and packing in style, Kuwata quickly came up with the design of the Origami Blazer, a tailor-made jacket that already has a pressed fold, so you don’t have to worry about ironing to get a to catch super-sized trout in Gabon. This season he added a version of a four-pocket safari jacket that changes shape via an inset belt, and addressed the difficult task of washing your clothes when, say, you’re hiking in Mongolia. With the help of the ever-resourceful Italian factories, he came up with a new fabric: a washable type of cashmere that can be washed in the washing machine without any worries. If there isn’t one within reach, a situation supposedly common in Mongolia, Kuwata said, “you can wash it in the nearby river.”
Some malleable, chic examples have been made from the washable cashmere. The most striking is a dress cut from a continuous piece of fabric, inspired by the makimono, a long drawing usually hung on the walls of Japanese ryokans. The columnar dress is closed with just a few buttons at the ankles, can be worn open on the shoulders for a sexy look, or folded over to create a tunic with a boat neck; if laid flat, it can be rolled up “like a Fortuny Delphos dress without the pleats,” Kuwata said.
