To receive the Vogue Business newsletter, sign up here.
Junya Watanabe’s first Comme des Garçons Man collection was presented during the summer of 2001, in Paris. Watanabe, who turned 40 that year, had been showing his womenswear in the French capital since 1993, establishing himself as a key voice in that pre-millennial decade’s moody chorus of avant-garde experimental fashion.
The menswear hit different. That initial collection was decorated with words — some of it touching (“you break my heart”), some of it perhaps inadvertently comical (“curry rice”) — that had been written by his studio team. A key element in the collection was a collaboration with Levi’s Japan that saw versions of the US denim brand’s signature 501 cut overprinted with excerpts of these texts. Although we cannot say for certain it was the very first, this moment was at least among the early examples of a runway menswear designer using another company’s product as a canvas for their own creation: it was the beginning of high fashion’s impulse for collaboration.
After the show, Watanabe told the International Herald Tribune: “I wanted to put in the collection something that was the real thing.” This ingredient, “the real thing”, referred both to the sentiments in the words and the authenticity of the Levi’s.
In the seasons since that collection, entitled “Debut”, Watanabe has gone on to vastly expand that process of partnership in his work, regularly incorporating and redesigning template garments from multiple other brands in his collections. It has also become a key practice in fashion more broadly — and almost invariably less creatively — as houses look to fire desire and generate revenues by marketed brand cross-pollination. Via email, Watanabe agreed to discuss his highly influential collaborative practice in menswear, and to answer a few other questions too.
Vogue: What does “the real thing” mean to you? I ask because you discussed your desire to include “the real thing” after your very first menswear show, referring to Levi’s 501. You have gone on to expand that practice in almost every show since, incorporating original pieces designed by others into your own work, allowing us to see them through your prism. Can you tell us a little about how and why this practice first began and how it has developed in your work?
Anyone can make similar models with similar fabric, like Levi’s 501, including us. However, a product made by Levi’s and marked with the Levi’s 501 stamp is the only denim trousers, and that is what I meant by “real”. When I launched my first men’s collection, I wanted to create orthodox clothing, the opposite of the creative and original clothing I do for my women’s collection. I chose collaboration as an idea to add creative value to them.
Vogue: These collaborations — sometimes mosh pit multi-brand collaborations concentrated into single pieces — must mean that you and your team talk with multiple companies to work together. Do they come to you, do you go to them, or is it both?
In most cases, I approach them and design freely.
Vogue: What do you strive to bring to the existing pieces that you work with?
It’s about bringing an unimaginable level of creativity to the original (existing pieces).
Vogue: Does working on collaborative pieces ever alter your perception of the original piece?
Basically, I aim to design with respect for the original product.
Vogue: Can you talk about key design archetypes that you have returned to? And is it fair to say that you sometimes take an essential characteristic of an existing design archetype — say, a denim pocket, or a D-ring — and then look to amplify it?
There is patchwork, where for example, I might design a Levi’s 501 by combining fabrics used in that season. And then there is transformation, using a bigger size of Levi’s 501 for instance, to design a form that has changed from the original.
Vogue: What are some of the companies and pieces that you have grown most personally fond of over the years, and why?
I have affection and respect for every brand.
Vogue: Do you have a large personal archive of pieces designed by both yourself and others?
I don’t have any brand archives. However, I have old workwear and militarywear collected from places like Portobello Market in London’s Notting Hill as resources.
Vogue: You rarely speak around your shows these days. Are you satisfied with the manner in which your work is interpreted?
You are journalists and have the role of conveying the collection to many people, so you might be dissatisfied with my response. I apologise for that. I’m not very interested in how people interpret my collections. Even if there are interpretations I did not intend, if there is no problem from a business point of view, that is fine with me.
Vogue: In your early days, you were often described as a “protégé” of Rei Kawakubo. Do you engage in any form of mentoring? Do you have a protégé?
My relationship with Kawakubo-san is that of a president and an employee. I have learnt many things by working as an employee. I myself currently have many staff, but it’s not a master-apprentice relationship.
Vogue: Do you think the potential for collaboration in menswear design is infinite? Is your system of named collaborations also a form of honesty in a world where it is impossible not to reference?
That’s correct.
Vogue: Can you discuss the impact and influence of music in your work, with some key examples?
Music is important in my work, but I’ll pass on detailed explanations this time.
Vogue: What menswear shows of your own would you like to be able to time travel to in order to sit in the front row and see again?
I don’t want to look back on my past collections. I feel embarrassed.
Vogue: We don’t usually get to speak to you backstage these days, so before tomorrow’s show can you share a few insights about the collection?
I would like to feature tailored jackets in this collection. I am reinterpreting men’s suits with my own ideas.
Comments, questions or feedback? Email us at feedback@voguebusiness.com.
More from this author:
An Olympic-size task: Stéphane Ashpool reveals Paris 2024 uniforms
‘When you partner, you learn’: Gildo Zegna on building an Italian luxury conglomerate
Palace founder Lev Tanju on his new role as creative director of Fila+
