Fujito is the newest line from Japan to come into the No Man Walks Alone family. The clothes are beautifully made, but not precious; classic without being antiquated. The designer behind the company, Go Fujito, draws heavily from his love of the great outdoors, vintage clothing, and the skateboard and music scenes he grew up with in Japan during the ‘80s and ‘90s. Earlier this week, we talked to Go about his personal history and design process. Today we end with a chat about how he ended up collaborating with one of Italy’s most famous bespoke tailoring houses, Liverano & Liverano, as well as some of his favorite things outside of fashion.
You once did a collaboration with Liverano & Liverano, a bespoke tailoring house in Italy. How did that come about?
A few years ago, one of my customers went to Pitti Uomo and wore my jeans. Mr. Liverano saw them and asked where they were from. My customer contacted me and put us in touch.
I was very honored by Mr. Liverano’s interest, so for the next Pitti Uomo, I traveled to Florence to show him a pair of Fujito jeans. He asked if we could change the pattern a bit, as well as switch up some of the stitching. Back at his atelier, he also gave us a copy of a paper pattern hanging on his wall, which he wanted us to use for the hip pocket. Again, I was very honored because I know how unusual it is for Mr. Liverano to share one of his paper patterns.
We ended up making some samples for Mr. Liverano, and I traveled to Florence a few more times to get his approval on the final production. Our factory was very supportive throughout this process. Today, we still make all of Liverano & Liverano’s jeans in Japan.
A lot of clothing today fits very slim and tight. I noticed, however that you often play with proportions. Some of the garments have a bit more ease built in and everything looks very comfortable. Do you generally like clothes to fit a bit fuller? What aspects of the cut are important to you?
I’ve been shifting to making more relaxed cuts in recent seasons. Our “big silhouette shirt” is one of those cases, as are the fuller-fitting trousers. I’ll usually start the process by discussing with our pattern maker how our clothes should fit. It’s really about how each individual piece fits into the broader collection. As it gets tougher to live in today’s world, I want our clothes to feel comfortable and relaxing.
Why is it important to you to manufacture in Japan?
About seventy-percent of every collection is made in Kyushu, which is the southernmost of the four main islands of Japan. Our shirts, for example, mainly come from Karatsu. It’s a beautiful town with a great view of the mountains and ocean. The close distance makes it possible for us to discuss things face-to-face with our partners, which results in better clothes. Even if we start with vintage items, we change the silhouette, color, and texture in order to create something that simultaneously feels new and classic. And I know it’s important to those of us who live and work in Japan that things are made here.
I know you have a shop in Japan. For you, what makes a good retail environment?
I started my career working as part of the sales staff, so I still enjoy talking to people who come into the store. Part of what makes a store special is having that very personal relationship. I also think presentation is important – both in terms of showing the product and the people behind the company. For many of our customers, who they buy from is just as important as what they buy.
You travel a lot for work. What are some things you always bring with you on trips?
A bottle of fragrance from Aquaflor; a scarf from Liverano & Liverano; sneakers from Asics; and a travel wallet from Smythson.
If we were to visit your part of Japan, what should we not miss?
I work in Fukuoka, which is famous in Kyushu – one of the main Japanese islands – for its food. If you visit, I’d strongly recommend trying Tsudoi, which is one of the Japanese noodle bars here. It has a personalized noodle menu, some incredible sake, and a mysterious feeling atmosphere. The place will satisfy any customer.
Finally, what music are you listening to these days?
“Passing Afternoon” by Iron & Wine. When I’m stressed, I find it cools my mind.
Many designers today, even those considered avant-garde, start their design process by delving into vintage archives. It’s just a question of where they take their inspiration. For Japanese designer Go Fujito, the process is as much about drawing from archival designs as it is about staying true to his personal history. As Fujito puts it, “clothes are about living,” which means style should always have some kind of contemporary relevancy.
As a teen growing up in the ‘80s and ‘90s, Fujito was in the thick of Japanese youth subcultures – a breakaway from the past, when youths dared to be a bit more rebellious. Fujito skateboarded and played football; he listened to punk rock and hip-hop. He was also heavily drawn to Harajuku, a district of Tokyo known for pushing rock ‘n roll fashion to young Japanese people disaffected with Ivy style.
If Fujito’s version of Americana feels familiar, that’s because he draws from a period many of us lived through. Instead of vintage, archival styles from the early 20th century, Fujito’s collections are inspired by the mid-century designs favored by youths in the ‘80s and ‘90s. There are soft, comfortable fleeces for hiking and camping; thick striped sweaters and shirt jackets for record hunting; and jungle jackets and parkas for everyday use. We sat down with the designer to talk about his history, design process, and work.
How did you become a designer?
Back in the 1990s, when I was in college, I worked at a vintage clothing store. This was when Harajuku was becoming a major center in Tokyo for street fashion. I got the job initially because I was interested in men’s clothing and style, but it wasn’t until I worked there that I discovered how much today’s clothes are based on vintage designs. Those years had a big impact on me, as I learned how to select and sell imported-clothes.
Later, I ended up working for Denime, one of the companies in Japan making jeans. It was there that I learned how clothes were made – from yarn selection to weaving, pattern making to garment washing.
After many years of working for other companies, I decided to make my own clothes. I started with simple screen-printed t-shirts, which my friends and I made in a garage. We moved up from there to jeans, which I’ve always considered the king of men’s casualwear, and have since expanded into a fuller collection of knitwear and cut-and-sewns.
You mentioned Harajuku. Were you involved in any youth subcultures growing up?
Absolutely. I was born in 1975 in a city called Sasebo, which has a big US military base. I actually came to the United States for the first time in 1984. I stayed with my cousins in San Diego and still remember how they showed me their break dancing moves while we were in their kitchen. When I returned to Japan, I brought with me a pair of Nikes that I had bought back when I was in California. It made me something of a celebrity amongst my classmates.
During this time, when I was a teen, I got involved in the local football and skateboarding scenes. Skateboarding actually opened up new cultural avenues for me, particularly in fashion and music. I listened to a lot of punk rock and hip hop, both of which really influenced me. I still count Matt Hensley, a former professional skater and now a musician, as one of my heroes.
Tell us about your design process. What inspires your work?
Fujito is made for everyday purposes. The clothes are meant to be worn roughly and casually, so they naturally have a bit of sportiness to them. Even if the item feels familiar and “normal,” I try to make things with a sophisticated and sporty feel.
Lots of things influence my work, from music to movies to art to friends to skateboarding. Back when I just started by brand, my mother told me that I had look at more art. Since then, I’ve made it a personal rule to always visit art museums when I travel.
Regarding the design process, I’m constantly thinking about my next collection. We have small team here, just three people, so we’re always sharing ideas. I may show my team the direction I have in mind for some rough designs, and then they dig into the details. Sometimes I’ll give them a theme to work around, such as “clothes for an anarchist woodpecker in a modern era.” That makes our choices for textiles and color a bit easier.
Still, the collections stay pretty consistent from season-to-season. The fundamentals are drawn from vintage clothing, either from my own personal collection or others’. We rely on those vintage clothes to learn about small details, then modify them in order to build our own “fashion language.” That can be anything from taking inspiration from the yarn dyeing in knitwear, stitching in a jacket, or some kind of fabric. We then draft up a pattern using toile, which helps us develop a fit. These details eventually all come together to make up the feeling or mood of a collection.
Many of your clothes have an outdoorsy feel to them. Do you go camping much? If so, what kind of equipment do you like?
I don’t always have the time for them, but I love outdoor activities. When I go hiking or camping, I wear boots from Goro, which are made in Sugamo, Tokyo. I like to layer with Montbell down jackets (they were really helpful during my last trip to New York City). I also recently bought a hammock from Eno. We’re now in a tent-less age!
Men have never had more options when it comes to outerwear. Browse any shop and you’ll find dozens of styles taking inspiration from military, workwear, and outdoor traditions. Materials range from heavy wools to bonded cottons to performance fabrics – all designed for different weather conditions.
Most of us will need at least a few winter coats. One for days when it’s windy and wet, built with a weatherproof shell and, if we can afford it, taped seams. Another packed with some kind of insulation (or, ideally, a removable liner) for when temperatures drop below 30F. Then something light and casual for when the weather is less brutal. Suede bombers, denim truckers, and quilted sport coats are all great for those days, especially if you favor denim and chinos on weekends like me.
Whether you wear suits often or not, I think everyone also ought to have a proper dress coat. Something sharp and tailored, designed for layering over another jacket or just worn on its own. If you do wear a suit or sport coat, a dress coat (sometimes called an topcoat, or in a heavier form, an overcoat) upholds the elegance of your outfit better than, say, a waxed parka (although those can be good if you want some contrast). But personally, I like them best with jeans and a chunky sweater. It’s the perfect way to wear tailored clothing without having to deal with the “why so dressed up?” comments.
My favorite topcoats tend to come from country or sporting traditions – less grey Chesterfield, more tan Polo or tweed Ulster. Or, better still, the easy fitting Balmacaan, which is named after an estate near Inverness, Scotland. Originally designed for bad weather, the Balmacaan is usually built from a tightly woven gabardine or tweed, then made with a Prussian collar that can be buttoned up to the neck. The raglan sleeves and loosely cut body give a slouchy silhouette, while the fly front helps keep out wind. The longer, traditional length means that the coat will sway beautifully as you walk – lending a bit of drama to whatever else you’re wearing. Like your favorite winter sport coats, it has that casual sense of country style, while also looking smart.
As with anything that requires proper tailoring, a good Balmacaan tends to be on the slightly more expensive side of things. But if you’re going to splurge on anything, splurge on outerwear. The centerpiece of any ensemble tends to be the outermost layer. With a Balmacaan, it just so happens to be a classic style that goes just as well with suits and sport coats as it does with casualwear.
The Cut recently had a great quote from singer-songwriter Father John Misty, patron saint of the not-lost wanderers: “Everyone kind of looks like a graphic designer,” he said. “I just hate that look. It’s predicated on not fucking up, as opposed to the emphasis really being on expression. There’s a lot of prescriptive fashion – ‘Oh, you need the perfect white shirt, and you need the perfect khaki – and it’s just so boring. I would like to see more of a Moroccan-slash-pajama vibe.”
Being that this is the start of spring, we’re bound to see dozens (maybe hundreds?) of lists of seasonal essentials. “Ten Spring Jackets You Must Own.” “Forty-Two Essentials to Spruce Up Your Spring Style.”
The idea of style essentials is awful; it’s just a way to generate clicks and Buzzfeed headlines. Yes, everyone should have a dark suit and the things to go with it (a dark tie, some basic shoes, and yes -- the perfect white shirt). We all have to attend weddings and funerals, after all. Most men could also use a good pair of jeans.
Personal style, however, begins when you branch out and discover things that speak to you.
That doesn’t have to mean Moroccan-slash-pajamas vibes (although it could). You may find yourself playing with American and European workwear, combining indigo chore coats with loose, tapered trousers and funky Tyrolean shoes. Or maybe you like to mix Argentine-inspired clothes with contemporary German-Belgian minimalism. For something dressier, there’s everything from soft shouldered, Italian sport coats to Japanese twists on European and American tailoring (see how good Camoshita’s navy and burgundy seersucker suit looks with a band collar shirt and fringed pocket square). Even the most conservative well-dressed men rely on more than just navy jackets – they have gunclub tweeds, rumpled linens, and softly patterned suits (although even these aren’t a straight ticket to being well dressed).
I know buying things that haven’t earned the “essentials” tag from a menswear magazine can be scary, but with resale sites such as eBay and Grailed, you have some insurance against missteps. On the upside, being a bit more adventurous means developing a true sense of personal style and discovering what you feel most yourself in. Some of the best items in my closet are things I took a chance on and happily found to work out over the years (e.g. a Royal blue mountain parka, which is a lot more cheerful to wear than the drab olive Barbour everyone told me to buy). So never mind what fashion writers tell you are essentials this spring – find your own.
There are many ways to wear a pocket square, but only one rule – always complement; never match. As with tie knots, card tricks, and pick-up lines, you want to look good without seeming like you put in too much effort. Any hint of contrivance and the magic is gone. For pocket squares, that means looking like you grabbed something at random (n.b.: use caution in applying this logic to pick-up lines) and things just happened to work out perfectly.
The Elysium of nonchalant perfection is bordered by hellscapes of priggish foppery and slovenly carelessness. These borders are poorly defined and to some degree a matter of taste. However, here are some good guiding principles to keep you on the right side of enemy lines:
Color: The trickiest part of wearing a pocket square is knowing how to combine colors. Just as you should never buy matching tie and pocket square sets (let alone wear one), you also never want your tie and square to match too closely. Instead, choose a square that either picks up a secondary color in your tie or complements the main color. For instance, suppose you’re wearing a tie that’s navy with burgundy pencil stripes. You could wear a burgundy square to highlight the burgundy pencil stripes in your tie, or a dark brown square to complement the navy base color.
Pattern: Squares with big patterns often look best with neckties with small patterns, and vice versa. Doing so keeps either accessory from competing with each other. Squares with “motif” patterns - that is, an unrepeated sketch that takes up the entire square - work with any tie pattern.
Material: A clean, sharply folded white linen will look good with almost anything, but day-in-day-out white linen pocket squares can get a bit boring. Consider mixing things up with silks, wools, and cottons. The first is good for year-round wear, while the latter two are a bit seasonal (wool for fall, cotton for spring).
Sheen: Pay attention to how light reflects off the material, and use it to balance the rest of your outfit. A wool square can be a nice seasonal accent to your usual navy sport coat and silk tie combo, whereas a silk square can keep a tweed jacket and wool tie ensemble from looking too fuzzy.
Fold: Don’t over think it – this shouldn’t feel like origami. Neatly fold linen squares and slide them into your breast pocket. For anything else, pick the square up by the center, fold it over so that the center is touching the square’s edge, and then stuff it into your pocket. Points up or down, it’s up to you, although points down will always look more discrete.
Done right, a pocket square can elevate the look a tailored jacket -- decorating the breast pocket, balancing the tie, or adding visual interest when you’re going sans neckwear. It’s arguably the easiest accessory to wear, or at least you should make it look that way.
Making fine leather goods is like parenting a toddler – it’s difficult, dirty work and you don’t know if you’ve succeeded until years later. Even after decades of working with leather, Frank Clegg admits he’s still learning. “You always think you’re doing something well, but it’s not until you see a bag five, ten, fifteen years down the line will you know whether something was done right.” Frank has forty-five years of experience both building and repairing leather bags, which means he’s had a lot of time to refine his process.
Frank’s work started in 1969, when his then-girlfriend (now wife) gave him some leatherworking tools for Christmas. Like most leatherworkers, he started with small, simple objects – basic belts, wallets, and key cases – but it wasn’t long before moved to bags and briefcases. “I found I had a real knack for pattern design and construction, so it quickly turned into a business. Back then, we used to sell at craft shows. I guess they call them pop-ups now, but it’s all the same thing.” His earliest models, going back to the 1970s, included simple, handsome designs that have been pared down to just their essential details. Models like the Captain’s, Birmingham, and English briefs. Frank calls these his “pure state bags.”
In the 1980s, however, men wanted something different. “Every market goes through its trends,” Frank says. “Back then, bags with metal frames were popular, so we made those. The problem was, five years down the line, those bags would come back to us with the frames poking through the leather. So we switched to polypropylene frames, but then those broke.” Meanwhile, Frank noticed that all of his pure state bags from the 1970s were holding up beautifully, so he went back to what he knew worked: simple designs made from quality materials that naturally go together. That means handles made from pure leather, rather than a mixture of leather and cardboard stiffeners, or zip-top briefcases that are reinforced with belting leather, rather than metal strips. “Over the years, I’ve found that the less you put into a bag – not in terms of work, but in terms of unnecessary complications – the better.”
That simple design philosophy also runs through Frank’s business model. While many companies – even “heritage brands” – have shipped their production overseas, Frank has kept production in his hometown Fall River, Massachusetts, where he makes bags with the help of his eight-person staff. “We stick to what we know, but it’s always a learning process as you go – even after forty-five years of doing this stuff.”
June is the most popular month for weddings, which means you may have to attend one in the not-so-distant future. Thankfully, as a man, dressing to be a wedding guest is fairly straightforward. Suit, tie, and polished oxfords are standard, but those categories are broad and include some bad ideas. Here are some tips on how to get it right.
The Failsafe. You’ll rarely go wrong with a dark suit, ideally in navy or charcoal (just make sure it fits). Try to stay away from black, however, as it can look too somber. Pair the suit with a white, semi-spread collar shirt, black oxfords, and conservative neckwear. Mid-grey ties in simple check patterns work well (remember, you’re here to celebrate the ties that bind, not ties that blind). Throw a folded, white linen pocket square into your breast pocket and live happily ever after.
Know the Codes. OK, the failsafe isn’t always failsafe. Always follow the instructions on the invite. If it says “black tie,” wear a tuxedo if you can. If it says “black tie optional,” opt for it. “Cocktail attire” or “formal” means dark suits with white shirts. “Informal” means casual suits and, possibly, no ties (although I recommend showing up with one, just in case). “White tie” means you know some fancy people. If you are in any doubt, ask someone involved with the wedding planning.
Daytime Weddings. If the wedding is being held during the daytime, go one shade lighter for the suit – maybe a dark blue instead of navy, or mid-grey instead of charcoal. Keep the polished oxfords and a white shirt, in order to keep things slightly formal. As a general rule, you’re better off being overdressed than underdressed (although you never want to look more formal than the groom).
Beach or Barn Weddings. If the wedding willingly incorporates sand or hay, propriety is no longer a concern. You could wear a khaki suit, a pair of brown suede shoes, and a slightly more causal tie (perhaps in pink or mid-blue). If it’s hot, try a suit made from a tropical wool or linen blend. Pure linen in this case just wrinkles too much, and as Billy Crystal once said, “it’s better to look good than to feel good.” Are there any words that better describe weddings?
Linen and knitwear might seem an awkward match, like a cheese pizza and whipped cream, or Carlos Mencia and comedy. But there’s a reason to have linen knitwear in your wardrobe. It’s not just because they wear cooler and fresher (although, there’s that). It’s also because they’re more in-concert with the season. There’s no easier way to look your best than by switching your favorite staples around every six months using seasonal colors and materials.
The nice thing about linen knitwear is that it wears cool when it’s warm and warm when it’s cool. It’s perfect for those summer evenings that are slightly chilly, or those early spring days that still have a hint of winter.
It’s also a great way to add some refinement to an otherwise plain ensemble. Linen tends to be a little more textured than most cotton fabrics, which means you can use it to add some visual interest. The slightly slubby weave of a linen sweater can be worn over a t-shirt or button-down, and then paired with cotton trousers and leather loafers for a nice off-duty look. You can also layer a linen knit under some lightweight outerwear, such as a hemp field jacket, linen shirt jacket, or stonewashed Harrington. The breathability of the material will allow you to achieve a layered look without overheating.
The best linen sweaters come from Inis Meain – that small knitwear company based on one of the more remote of the three Aran Islands. Theirs are made from specially produced Italian yarns that have been spun from Irish linen. They have a thick, dry hand, and most importantly, a slight spring-back quality. Whereas other linen knits hang limp and lose shape easily, Inis Meain’s behave like your best cashmeres and merinos. These sweaters have some integrity to their silhouette, and their banded hems and cuffs don’t stretch out after a day’s wear. When the weather gets warm, you can push those sleeves up without worrying if they’ll end up looking like the legs on bell-bottom trousers.
Spring is here and summer is coming, but you don’t have to give up on knitwear. Instead of pairing cashmere sweaters with flannel trousers and chunky boots, try linen knits with cotton trousers and lightweight slip-ons. Every season deserves its own knitwear.
