AT PITTI UOMO SETCHU ASKS MORE OF US BY ASKING LESS

“We are not a fashion company,” said Satoshi Kuwata, the designer of SETCHU, emphatically, after showing a foldable origami blazer he developed with Davies & Son, the oldest Saville Row tailor. We were at the press preview for his show at Pitti Uomo, the premier men’s trade show in Florence. It was the first SETCHU show, and, according to Kuwata, most likely its last; the reason being that Kuwata’s clothes require careful examination, not to say contemplation.

Although Kuwata has twenty years of design experience, SETCHU seems to have sprung out of nowhere, fully formed. In 2023, Kuwata won the LVMH prize for young designers, despite his long tenure working behind the scenes at places as disparate as Saville Row and Golden Goose, Givenchy and Yeezy. An inside source told me that SETCHU was not initially in the running to win the prize because there was no hype around Kuwata. But when the committee saw the clothes, there was no doubt in their mind that they were in the presence of genuine talent. The fashion world concurs –– the enthusiasm amongst professionals around SETCHU is universal. An invitation from Pitti Uomo to put on a show is a confirmation in itself –– while the fair organizers pride themselves on keeping their ear to the ground for emerging talent, it is not often that a brand gets invited with only several collections under its belt.

One can see why enthusiasm around SETCHU is contagious –– after years of creative directors and stylists, the fashion system has finally produced a member of that endangered species, a designer. Kuwata thinks about building clothes not brands, knowing that the clothes he makes will be what will build the brand in the long run. Spend some time with Kuwata’s garments and you quickly learn the formidable thought process that produces clothes that carry ease and complexity in equal measure. 

The first time I met Kuwata was at his Paris showroom shortly after he won the LVMH prize, and he walked me through his collection, showing the multiple ways his garments can be worn. He possesses a simultaneous humility and a dry sense of humor befitting someone who spent time in Britain. Demonstrating versatility of his clothes, Kuwata tried on a sweatshirt with zippers running along the side seams, and said, “This is the regular way you can wear it, but if you are too hot, you can do this,” unzipping both sides, twisting and pulling up the sweatshirt so it now looked like an oversized scarf nonchalantly thrown over the shoulders, “and then you look like a Japanese designer.”

Back at the preview Kuwata threw the aforementioned blazer, that will be custom-made on Saville Row and cost god knows what, on the floor, and in a few swift gestures folded it, like a sweater, along the perma-creases running down and across. Though the blazer was meticulously constructed – its interlining alone takes double the time to make than the standard one – it had an ease to it that modern life requires. Kuwata is an avid traveler (and a fisherman), and one of the first world problems he tries to solve with his versatile designs is overpacking. Hence, garments with built in multifunctionality.

Another first world problem Kuwata is concerned with is our constant complaining (guilty as charged). And it is true that by historical standards we live in unprecedentedly good times, which many of us don’t appreciate. Our lives are fast and furious, and as shallow as those silly motor films. To remind us to slow down and to be more considerate, Kuwata put on his show at Biblioteca Nazionale Di Firenze, and he called it, ‘I WANT LESS, AND LESS THAN THAT.” He urged us to put down our phones and pick up a book, an advice few will heed. But there is a romanticism in this futility that is alluring (at least to me). 

There is a quiet romanticism in his clothes as well, a softness that is welcome in a world that feels increasingly coarse. It was on display at the SETCHU show later that evening, as models walked slowly down the runway, sometimes in groups of two and three, their heels softly click-clacking on the polished stone floor, the garments twisting around their bodies without contorting them. The starting point of this collection was a square, the most simple of shapes, around which Kuwata built an entire wardrobe. The results were fascinating to look at; blazers so soft that they could be tucked into pants, dress shirts that could be buttoned in a myriad of ways to form a variety of shapes. Some of the most compelling items were the simplest ones, zippered hooded sweatshirts that were transformed into skirts and capes –– it is rare to see something so common given a truly new form and function.

Though the show was good, it was evident that Kuwata was right when he said that the runway is not the right format for his clothes; the sum of its parts did not add up to something greater. But as an experiment it proved that SETCHU is best experienced one on one, in an intimacy that the conversation between the wearer and the garment ultimately requires.