admin Takahiro Miyashita’s collection for spring was split neatly into three parts: Britishness, bones, and boro (the Japanese word for tattered clothes). Ever the enigma, Miyashita himself didn’t make an appearance at his showroom in Tokyo, but a number of his tight-knit team (some of whom have been with him since the Number (N)ine days) were on hand to give context.
Fortunately, there were plenty of details to delight in. First, that unmissable Union Jack print—something the Anglophile designer has riffed on before—turned out to have been achieved by a rather strange new design method. Miyashita had spent weeks folding bits of construction paper into miniature garments so he could work out where the flag would fall on each jacket or pair of jeans. Tedious work, but a mountain of doll-size origami clothes later, he’d perfected it. Also new was a wider armhole that was achieved by bringing the underarm gusset down a few inches, lending the blazers and photographer vests a rounded silhouette that felt fresh.
The bones on the skeleton trousers and rib cage jackets added some gothic grunge to the mix, but best of all was the boro, which came through in artful rips in black trench coats and tailoring that felt gloriously light to wear. In some cases, the fraying threads were colored burgundy so they appeared almost like bloody wounds in the fabric. That might sound macabre, but in Miyashita’s practiced hands, even would-be gimmicks become deliciously romantic.
Along with the faded monochrome Union Jack, the addition of the black crown hats made you wonder whether Miyashita had been pondering a certain monarch’s passing last year. Funereal or not, it topped off a royal display of the delicate darkness and mystery that this fashion punk has made his realm. God save the Soloist.
