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Beyond being merely “〇〇-like.”

 

Looking at each garment,

“This garment feels very 〇〇-esque.”
“This garment feels very 〇〇-like.”

Are there moments when you feel that way?

 

Hello.

I’m Tomioka from cliché.

 

when we look at clothes, we unconsciously attach some kind of words to them, including their color, shape, and material, or even the people wearing them.

As we compare it with the things we have seen and worn up to that point,

“This is the kind of garment it is.”

I think that is the judgment we make.

Of course, there is nothing inherently good or bad about that.

However, I feel that these preconceptions of something being “〇〇-esque” or “〇〇-like” can sometimes become a stumbling block of our own making.

“It doesn’t feel like me, so I won’t wear it.”

“It isn’t masculine, so I won’t choose it.”

“It’s feminine, so it has nothing to do with me.”

By attaching words first in this way, we distance ourselves from a garment before we can see the appeal that is truly there.

Of course, I am no different.

 

Whenever we look at clothes, words like “〇〇-esque” or “〇〇-like” naturally come to mind.

Those preconceptions are not easily dispelled.

However, there are clothes that cannot be fully captured by the words that first come to mind.

 

This Feather Lace Blouson was one such piece.


<cantáte>

"Feather Lace Blouson"

COL : NAVY

¥242,000 TAX IN

 

The first thing that catches your eye is, naturally, the lace.

The shape of a blouson itself may be familiar, but simply changing the material used can alter its impression this dramatically.

What is used here is 100% cotton chemical lace featuring a feather motif.

Embroidery is applied to cotton cloth, after which the base fabric is dissolved through chemical treatment, leaving only the embroidery to complete the piece.

Today, it is common to use a base woven with water-soluble thread, but conceptually, rather than drawing a pattern onto fabric, it is made by leaving the pattern itself behind as the fabric.

Matsushima-san wrote the following about this lace on Instagram.

“It is precisely because of these raised contours that, despite being lace, it does not become sweet and works properly as menswear.

if this were made with a lustrous yarn like rayon, if the embroidery lacked dimensionality, or worse, if it featured a floral pattern, it would be beyond saving.”

This may be putting it rather strongly, but

Once you see this blouson in person, what I mean immediately falls into place.

The feather embroidery has substantial thickness, with raised contours that make each feather appear to float.

Despite being lace, it does not look delicate.

If anything, the surface even has a certain strength.

I think it is precisely this sense of dimension that allows lace to be used without veering into sweetness, making it naturally read as menswear.

 

With lace, there are areas where the fabric is present and areas where it is not.

Rather than simply looking at the pattern itself, it works as a complete garment that includes what can be seen through the gaps.

With an ordinary blouson, we basically see the surface of the fabric.

But this blouson naturally draws your eyes all the way to what lies beneath.

The color of the clothing worn underneath, the skin, and even the light show through.

Rather than being a garment that stands on its own, this is a garment whose character changes depending on what you place underneath it.


By the way, I like lace.

This is already an undeniable fact.

Even when choosing socks, I often go for lace ones.

At that point, I no longer have much of a sense of “masculine” or “feminine.”

Quite simply, I find the material of lace itself compelling and want to incorporate it into my own wardrobe.

In men's styling, I do not particularly like wearing clothes in a way that leaves a rugged, textured expanse of skin exposed.

But I like having a single layer of fabric over the skin, with just a little skin showing through the gaps.

It is not that I want everything to be visible.

Concealed, yet visible.

That is enough.

I believe there is a sensuality that emerges only when the fabric itself overlaps with the skin beyond it.

Perhaps what I like about lace is not only the pattern itself, but this way of being seen.

It is fabric meant to conceal, yet it has gaps.

It is not clothing intended to reveal the skin, yet the skin becomes visible as a result.

Contradictory things coexist within a single piece of fabric.

Maybe that is why I like lace.

And what makes wearing lace clothing interesting is deciding what to wear underneath.

Because there are gaps, the garment worn underneath is easy to see.

Of course, you could introduce a completely different color and make the feather pattern stand out clearly.

That said, I like layering similar colors.

When you place a color close to that of the blouson underneath, the boundary between the lace and the inner layer becomes slightly blurred.

From a distance, it looks like one color.

But up close, a slightly different navy peeks through the gaps in the lace.

Depth emerges, even without adding more colors.

This time, I would pair it with denim in a color close to that of the pants.

Keep the blouson, inner layer, and pants broadly within the same color family, changing only the materials within it.

The way lace reveals what lies beneath it.

The flat color of the inner layer.

The uneven tones of denim.

Even without adding more colors, the appearance changes when the materials differ.

In fact, I think lace is a material that makes those differences even easier to see.

The character of this garment can be found even in the smallest details.

The choice for the dark navy lace is jet-black buffalo-horn buttons.

A quiet sheen appears only when it catches the light.

It has a collarless neckline.

Precisely because the fabric is so distinctive, nothing unnecessary has been added around the neckline, keeping it clean and simple.

That decisiveness suits this blouson perfectly.

The hem and cuffs are cut raw, making full use of lace’s scalloped edge.

Like selvedge in denim, the edge of the fabric itself is used as a design element.

When you see this kind of construction, you can tell that lace has not been treated as mere decoration, but has been approached properly as a single piece of fabric.

I think the words “〇〇-esque” and “〇〇-like” will continue to follow lace for me as well.

There is no need to force ourselves to eliminate that.

When we see a garment for the first time, we will surely continue to imagine it by applying some kind of label to it.

But there is no need to let it end with those words alone.


See it in person, touch it, and try it on.

Think about what to wear underneath and try pairing it with the clothes you already own.

I think learning that way, one thing at a time, is not only about understanding the clothing; it is also about building up your own experience.

Wear a material you have never worn.
Try something you would never have chosen before.
Because of that accumulation, the way I judge something the next time I see it gradually changes.

The first impressions that come to mind—“〇〇-esque” or “〇〇-like”—may turn out not to matter all that much.

Before I can even ask myself, “Is this clothing truly like me?”

“I like this.”

You could say that.

You could say I've gained one more piece of experience to arrive at that one sentence.

For now, that alone is enough.

 

cliché Tomioka