Satoshi Kuwata must be the most stylish fisherman alive. Who else would wear a cashmere T-shirt while fishing chest-deep in the murky waters of Gabon, with, as he casually recounted, “a shark behind you and a crocodile swimming at you.” Not only did he emerge unscathed, he also apparently landed the best catch of his life.
There are two plausible explanations. Either Gabon’s sharks and crocodiles were too intimidated by Kuwata’s impeccable outfit to attack, or the fish themselves, clearly connoisseurs in their own right, couldn’t resist swimming closer to inspect the provenance of his cashmere that, he assured, “doesn’t take the smell of fish.”
Either way, the trip left its mark. Kuwata became captivated by the ethereal yet resilient fishing nets used locally in Gabon. That unlikely source of inspiration quite literally cast its net over Setchu’s spring collection, where “playful functionality” and sophistication were woven together with the eccentric sartorial flair that seems to follow Kuwata everywhere, even into crocodile-infested waters.
Kuwata enveloped three-piece suits and shirtdresses in a web of multicolored leather cords, tied using the Japanese Square Knot, chosen because “it stays square.” The cords were finished at the hem like neatly arranged spools, dangling and swaying into a kind of decorative, undulating mobile. Naturally, they will also be sold with the garment. In Kuwata’s world, even the fishing cord deserves retail life.
The collection was concise, almost entirely handmade, and threaded with technical inventions that veered close to the obsessive. Fishing is just one of Kuwata’s many idiosyncrasies, translated here through an exacting level of craft, learned at Savile Row, that borders on the religious. For one thing, he has an aversion to circles: rectangles and squares are the governing geometry of his universe. “I’m not fond of round things, but this season, I started with round things, because it might be interesting to start with something you don’t like,” he said. The approach may sound mildly punitive, though it leaves Kuwata entirely unfazed.
One of the most puzzling inventions was a set of rounded metallic hoops, “woven” and assembled with bands of gauze, creating a sculptural, hollow tension that felt part garment, part slightly unhinged experiment. These ‘tops’ were paired with rounded trousers cut on the bias, recalling those worn by the notoriously elegant Japanese carpenters—if carpenters occasionally chose to dress like abstract sculptures.
Another new direction introduced a more feminine cut to certain dresses that, without screaming “body-conscious!” suggested a fluid, romantic grace. Fishes, however, remain a persistent obsession. A black and white asymmetrical slip dress, cut for beautiful, liquid movement, was embroidered with cartoonish aquatic creatures mid-swim. “I found a piece of fabric on the floor that looked like a fish, so I wanted it on the dress,” Kuwata said, with the kind of logic that feels entirely self-contained. One wonders whether a girl might go fishing dressed like that, though perhaps that is beside the point.
Kuwata’s creations are difficult to describe, but they cast a spell: poetic feats of sartorial engineering, with the occasional risk of over-complication never entirely out of view. Case in point: a squared-off biker jacket entirely constructed from a tatami. “It’s impossible to move in it,” the designer observed, as if that might be the first question to arise in a reviewer’s mind. “So I decided to make the sleeves detachable with zippers so it becomes a waistcoat.” Practical, in theory, as it also doubles, one imagines, as an emergency bed.
If Kuwata is indulging his idiosyncrasies, he’s doing so with conviction and a gleeful disregard for consensus. “I decided to go deeper instead of going wider,” he said. “I don’t have to make everyone happy.” And indeed, he seems in no particular rush to try.
