Yohji Yamamoto: Why I Am a Clothing Maker, Not a Fashion Designer

Yohji Yamamoto asserts his identity as a "clothing maker," distancing himself from the term "fashion designer," which he finds too superficial. He explains that his career path was less a passionate calling and more a pragmatic decision, born from the stark realities of post-war poverty. He chose this profession as a means to avoid dire outcomes such as death or imprisonment, reflecting a life shaped by profound hardship and limited opportunities.

"I even didn't want to become uh clothes clothes maker fashion designer. I really hated the book so so fashion fashion too light. No, I'm not fashion designer. What are you clothing maker? That's it."

Yamamoto recounts his arrival in Paris, a journey that took him through Russia and Germany. Stepping off the train, he was immediately struck by the city's sensory overload: the smell of jet fuel and sewage, coupled with the boisterous chatter of people. Despite the noise and odors, he felt an immediate, profound connection to Paris, describing it as an almost fated arrival, as if he had always belonged there.

"The first moment I I get out from the the the train, I got smell of jet, the gulawas and I heard the the the very high tong talking of people... It was noisy noisy and smelly and I felt oh this is my town... it was like a fate."

Yamamoto reveals that anger has been a significant catalyst in his creative endeavors since childhood. This anger originated from his early observations of the Japanese army, fueling a deep empathy for women that began when he was as young as five years old. He believes that the historical conflicts initiated by men compelled him to adopt a protective stance towards women, a sentiment that continues to influence his work.

"Since I was uh very young, very tiny, four or five years old in the kindergarten I became very close to one girl... I was standing on the women's side, girl side from when I was 5 years old."

Yamamoto shares the profound impact of his father's death, who was drafted into World War II at its conclusion in 1950. His father's final words to his mother were about being possibly sent south for combat, a memory that deeply affected Yamamoto's perception of war. The lasting absence of his father became a potent source of his animosity towards the Japanese army, shaping his personal and creative philosophy.

"She was brought at the 1950 the the the year of the end of the second world war rule. She he was picked up to the war and the final final vocabulary he gave to to my mother because I was I was uh uh given the summer wear summer uniform. Maybe I'll be sent to the south. That is that is his final vocabulary."

Yamamoto reflects on the limited career options he perceived for himself, noting he considered only three paths: musician, painter, or clothing maker. He views his life's trajectory as largely determined by fate, a belief he holds firmly. He grapples with the philosophical question of whether he actively shapes his own destiny or if his life's course is entirely preordained, acknowledging the difficulty in discerning the boundary between personal agency and an inescapable fate.

"I had only three choices. I I want to be I wanted to be musician. I wanted to be painter. I wanted to be clothing maker half... My fate. I believe that. I believe that. I do."

Yohji Yamamoto explicitly rejects the notion of being a leader, choosing instead to identify as a 'patient of society.' He articulates his core philosophy as understanding and respecting one's 'limit,' suggesting a deep awareness of human boundaries and societal constraints. This self-perception highlights a humble yet profound outlook on his role within the broader community, emphasizing personal responsibility and acceptance of one's place.

"I'm a patient of the society. People can do anything. But we have to know the limit."

Yamamoto acknowledges the role of luck in his life but is quick to emphasize the immense effort he has invested. He expresses uncertainty about whether his efforts were sufficient, underscoring a continuous self-assessment. He posits that success is not merely about originality, but rather a culmination of persistent hard work and dedication, integrating both external fortune and internal drive.

"Yeah. But same time I made a big effort. Probably it was enough or not? I don't know."

Yamamoto reflects on the inherent pain of creating work that initially fails to gain popular acceptance. He expresses a profound empathy for artists like Van Gogh, whose genius was not fully recognized during their lifetimes, causing him a personal sense of sorrow. He views these struggles as an intrinsic part of the artistic journey, acknowledging that life often presents such challenges for creators.

"I created something which people don't like at the beginning... when I think about Van Go my heart becomes painful but this is the life."

Yamamoto states that he has largely fulfilled his life's ambitions, estimating that he has completed approximately 80% of his desired accomplishments. He expresses a deep sense of readiness for the end of his life, both mentally and spiritually, anticipating a reunion with his parents. While noting his mother lived to 112, he firmly dismisses the idea of extending his own life beyond a natural conclusion, indicating a peaceful acceptance of mortality.

"I done almost 80% of my favorite thing. So I'm ready to go already. Mentally ready to disappear."

Yamamoto explicitly states that he is not an optimistic person. He asserts that an overly optimistic outlook would actually hinder his ability to be a creative force in fashion design. For him, a degree of pessimism or realism is crucial for the depth and originality required in his craft, suggesting that true creativity stems from a nuanced understanding of the world's complexities.

"If I become too optimistic I would not be able to be a creator of fashion designer."

Yamamoto delves into the paradoxical nature of the color black, describing it as simultaneously "humble and arrogant." He reflects on his youthful experiences and observations, noting that in Japanese culture, black is primarily associated with death and mourning. This dual symbolism informs his use of black in his designs, imbuing it with both reverence and a bold, individualistic statement.

"Black is humble and arrogant. Yeah. When I was young, I shouted in the way, but black is for Japanese people the only color when somebody dead."

Yamamoto articulates his deep desire for his children and grandchildren to eventually take over his company, envisioning a lasting family dynasty. His motivation for continuing his work is rooted in ensuring their happiness and securing the future of his brand. He acknowledges the potential conflict between his personal dream and the acceptance of his staff, highlighting the complexities of passing on a creative legacy within a professional organization.

"My children and my grandchildren, I want to let them become happy for that I have to keep on working or my son or my eldest daughter take my place and continue my company. This is my dream."