For now though, the sloped pockets floating randomly atop ivory shirtdresses and the braided cords running down the inside of a jacket presented themselves as unsolvable clues. More readable was the designer’s handwritten signature, which he threaded lengthwise into various looks (he sheepishly conceded that this was “commercial”). As with the other Japanese fashion masters, you find yourself asking of Yamamoto, “Do I want to wear something I cannot explain?” Most of the time, in his case, the answer is yes.
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