Dress For Daily Life 〜Bringing the joy of wearing dresses into everyday life〜

“muller” is a word that means “woman” in a dialect spoken in the Aragon region of Spain. By adopting this name, we imbue the brand with the conviction that local, niche things always bring with them a sense of novelty and surprise. In our pursuit of the question “What is clothing worn by women?”, we found the answer in the dress—a garment exclusive to women. Taking this as our brand’s symbol, we offer not only dresses but also tops, skirts, and pants, with the desire to provide “a piece of clothing that brings joy and excitement to the wearer, regardless of the era or how much time passes.”

For women, there is no such thing as “clothing that suits you” or “clothing that doesn't”

It is the absolute firm belief of Yoshio Kubo, the designer of muller of yoshiokubo, that for any woman, “there is no distinction between clothing that suits you and clothing that does not.”

The relationship between a person and their clothes might be similar to a certain kind of assumption. Even after growing up and beginning to choose our own clothes, the “routine” of our childhood, when our parents chose and dressed us, remains ingrained in us. This might even be serving as the standard for whether something suits us or not.

It is true that based on the fashion experiences gained over the years, you may have preferences in taste. However, I don't think that is “absolute.” If more opportunities arise to encounter things one has never seen before, there should always be room for those preferences to change.

That is why muller of yoshiokubo is deeply committed to being a presence that can offer such discoveries and encounters—be it a “silhouette not seen anywhere else in the world” or “details never seen before.”

Of course, some might think, “Don't certain colors suit you better based on your hair or skin color?” That thought certainly has some merit.

I would like to share a small philosophy of mine regarding this, dating back to my time tailoring wedding dresses in New York.

In NY, I often had the opportunity to tailor truly pure white wedding dresses, which are rarely seen in Japan. These look absolutely stunning against the brown skin of African American women! Because the color contrast is so effective, both the skin and the dress really stand out.

On the other hand, looking at wedding dresses in Japan, most are ivory-toned whites. The reason is that they blend into the skin. If the flow from the hair to the face, the décolleté to the dress, and down to the hem is ivory, it looks very beautiful.

Such presentation is likely necessary for those special moments in life. However, I believe that is a completely different matter from, for example, saying “Red doesn't suit me.” Rather, my proposal is that the clothes that color our daily lives should use colors, fabrics, and patterns that aren't used elsewhere.

This is a way to ensure that people aren't associated with preconceived notions—such as “purple is a color chosen by someone who has experienced the bitterness and sweetness of life” or “a yellow T-shirt reminds one of something.”

I have heard that humans can only distinguish about 100 different colors. Because of that, some might say it’s impossible to produce subtle differences in shade. However, the way a color appears depends entirely on the material. If you are meticulous about fabrics and processing, it is absolutely possible to create “a color that is not the same as anything else,” and we prove this through the clothing of muller of yoshiokubo.

I strongly hope that you will try our collections based on whether you “like it or dislike it,” and that you find the opportunity to take that challenge exciting.

To remain "new" even when it becomes vintage

The clothes at muller of yoshiokubo are made so that the fabrics, patterns, and everything else appear unique. If you have just one such interesting and unique piece of clothing in your wardrobe, no matter how many years pass, it will surely stimulate your own creativity every day, making you think “what shall I pair with that piece?” and provide a spark that brightens your daily life.

In doing so, the meaning of “wearing clothes” might change for you before you know it. I want muller of yoshiokubo to be that one piece of clothing that lets you feel such excitement.

To create clothes that make you feel that way, we make sure to visit one of the world's largest fabric exhibitions every year, starting our planning by selecting the most eye-catching fabrics of the highest quality for that season.

Because we choose fabrics worthy of clothes that can be worn for a lifetime, even if they sleep in the closet for a while, they remain white and strong, retaining their luster. I believe that kind of fabric is ultimately a sustainable and reasonable choice.

When people hear “clothes that can be worn for a long time,” some may think of vintage clothing. So, what is vintage? If I were to name one difference from “used” clothing, I believe clothes that hold value as vintage are those where “the details and techniques are incredibly interesting,” “the fabric is something I’ve never seen and feels wonderful,” or “the print is innovative.”

A piece you bought because “you can't find this fabric anywhere else” should be something that, even after many years, someone compliments you on saying, “That's stylish,” or if you pass it on, it doesn't become “out of fashion.” And if you happen to find it in a vintage clothing store, it should make your heart skip a beat with the thought, “I’ve never seen anything like this!”

That is the ideal state of clothing that muller of yoshiokubo aims for.

Is it possible to make "cheap clothes" while maintaining the muller of yoshiokubo philosophy?

The price of clothing is roughly one-third each for fabric, sewing, and accessories like buttons. This leads to the idea that if you make the fabric cheaper, the price can be lowered.

In reality, if you mass-produce using affordable fabrics based on designs by top-tier designers, it is possible to achieve overwhelming low prices, even after accounting for design fees.

However, in my view, it is almost impossible to create “clothes that you haven't seen before, that feel new to the next generation, and that can actually be worn” that way. Even so, if you pursue “quality and things that satisfy me” too much, it ends up being difficult for both the maker and the wearer... It is a dilemma that leaves me agonizing every day over how to create our brand's clothing.

Since I covered fabrics in my previous column (“To remain 'new' even when it becomes vintage”), this time I would like to introduce the brand's judgment criteria regarding “sewing,” based slightly on my own experience.

I originally studied textiles at the Fashion Design department of Philadelphia University’s School of Textiles & Science, then moved to New York by a stroke of fate, where I gained experience in haute couture as an assistant designer under a designer named Robert Denese.

In Robert Denese’s workshop, there was a large cutting table surrounded by about 10 seamstresses. Surrounded by these international, cheerful women from countries like Russia, Poland, China, and Thailand, I was in charge of quality control. I would say things like, “Everyone, please look at this. Please cut it like this.” It was only in the final short period that I worked as an assistant that I was actually allowed to do design work. Until then, I focused thoroughly on production management, and at times, did the cutting myself.

In my memories of that time, one moment I can still recall vividly is the act of “cutting fabric that cost about 70,000 yen per meter.” I was so nervous that I could hardly bring myself to use the scissors for fear that something might go wrong.

Perhaps it is because I made clothes under such tension. Although I no longer cut fabric that costs 70,000 yen per meter, I can reflect on the nature of working under nerve-wracking tension from time to time.

Whether it is the tension of cutting or quality control in sewing, both have become an important “core” of muller of yoshiokubo's current identity.

That is why I cannot give the okay to a 5mm deviation, which is generally considered within the “acceptable range.” I feel that if I were to allow this, it would no longer be muller of yoshiokubo clothing. Because of that feeling, I realize I really cannot easily make “cheap clothes.”

Bringing dresses for daily use into everyday life

As the designer of muller of yoshiokubo, I have written about my thoughts on the brand's “fabric selection” and “sewing.”

Here, I would like to write about my thoughts on the brand's origin: the “philosophy of dresses that can be used for daily wear” and “wearing clothes.”

Looking at the history of world fashion, things that are now thought of as “fashion only for women” were sometimes unexpectedly men’s fashion or unisex items. For example, high-heeled shoes were Louis XIV’s favorite footwear, and in Scotland, skirts are still worn as traditional clothing for men today.

However, looking back through long history, the dress is the only garment that has always been “clothing worn by women.”

By the way, “one-piece” (the Japanese term for dress) is a Japanese coining. Since it implies a jumpsuit or overalls, our brand has kept the rule since its founding to “not use” the word one-piece.

The haute couture dresses I kept making during my New York days were garments that could be used for occasions, designed to make the person look extremely slender and beautiful by following their body. However, muller of yoshiokubo dresses are not haute couture. Yet, they are different from what is known as a “one-piece.” I aim for them to be an existence somewhere between the two.

muller of yoshiokubo was established in 2006 when the dresses we had been presenting in the men’s line, yoshiokubo, were split off into a new women’s line.

Focusing on the idea of “women (what they wear),” when I was searching for words to express that, I encountered “muller,” a word meaning “woman” in the Aragon region of Spain, and decided to use it as the brand name. Sometimes I am asked, “Why did you choose a dialect from a region of Spain?” It was because I had a conviction that “local and minor things become stylish.”

And because I watched the figures of women in NYC living actively (lively) while pursuing their own ideals, all while enjoying the pleasure of wearing dresses for daily life (dress for daily life), I also imagined, “I wish there were more women in Japan living like that.”

With the passage of time and the current situation where it is difficult to go out freely, I feel it has become harder to imagine such scenes. In such cases, I imagine it becomes harder to feel like “I want to wear this today!” and one ends up choosing clothes with the mindset of “I’ll just wear this for now.”

While that might happen sometimes, I think it is not good if a state continues where one can only choose clothes where the fabric is bad and the sewing is beyond subpar. To put it extremely, I worry that this could end up meaning one is “wearing Japan’s ‘shame.’”

It’s not about pride or vanity, but if we don't wear brands or clothes that have had attention paid to them in various aspects, I fear we might one day truly become a “country that is abnormally boring and has a low level of consciousness regarding clothing.” The clothes one is wearing have no identity... While there is the difficulty that “we cannot spend that much money on clothes,” I still feel that wearing such things is “incredibly bland.”

That is why muller of yoshiokubo pursues clothes that you will continue to think, “I want to wear this!” and offers them to as many people as possible, even if it is just one piece.

And I want you to wear them thinking, “I want to wear this!” That is what I am thinking.

■ Biography Yoshio Kubo
Raised in a creative household where his father was a calligrapher and his mother was a seamstress. Enthusiastic about expressing his own creative world since childhood, he was so devoted that he even used the wall of his home bathroom as a canvas. After graduating from high school, he moved to the United States. He was planning to attend a film school, but could not give up his long-held dream of being a fashion designer. He seized a miraculous opportunity to enroll in the Fashion Design department of Philadelphia University’s School of Textiles & Science. At this time, he purchased fabric scissors for about 5,000 yen (at the time), and resolved to establish himself as a designer, thinking, “Since I’ve bought something this expensive, I must.” He graduated in 2000. Blessed with another miraculous connection, he obtained a position as an assistant designer under Robert Denese in New York. He gained experience in haute couture design and returned to Japan in 2004. He established the men’s brand “yoshiokubo,” which packed in his own philosophy and identity: “Something that is not a follower of someone else, something never seen before.” The collection, which sublimated every element—fabric, sewing, and design—by reinterpreting couture with everything he cultivated in his NY days, became a hot topic for its novelty, to the point of being perceived as a “new genre called yoshiokubo.” “muller of yoshiokubo” was born three years later, in 2006. It started when he presented dresses as part of the yoshiokubo collection. It began as an interpretation of “What is clothing worn by women?” through yoshiokubo.