As we have seen in the previous section, the emergence of Rei Kawakubo and Yohji Yamamoto created a major shock in Paris in the early 1980s. However, in order to understand how this shock was interpreted and evaluated, it is important to consider not only the creativity of the designers themselves, but also the role of the media and critics surrounding them.

In this regard, Pierre Bourdieu points out that the process of cultural production involves not only the creation of material works, but also the “production of value,” or symbolic production. Works do not automatically possess value by themselves; rather, they are recognized as legitimate only when they are evaluated and given meaning by critics, editors, and journalists.

These individuals, whom Bourdieu calls “cultural intermediaries,” stand between producers and consumers and play a key role in assigning value and meaning to works. In the field of fashion, this includes magazine editors, newspaper journalists, and buyers. Their discourse has a significant influence on the position of designers: positive evaluations can move them toward the center, while negative judgments can push them to the margins.

In fact, reactions to Japanese designers were not uniform. Kenzo Takada, who was active in the 1970s, initially surprised French editors as “unconventional,” yet his free and colorful style gained popularity among young people and achieved international recognition. Similarly, Issey Miyake was relatively well received for his designs that combined tradition and technology, and he was understood within the system at an early stage.

However, the arrival of Kawakubo and Yamamoto went far beyond these existing frameworks of acceptance. Their clothes rejected the conventional aesthetics that emphasized the contours of the body, and instead used asymmetry, black, and torn-like forms to question the very definition of “beauty.” As a result, media reactions were sharply divided.

Some critics highly praised them as creators of a new aesthetic, while others reacted with strong rejection. International media described their work as “ugly,” “unfeminine,” and “not enhancing the beauty of the body.” Their predominantly black style was even compared to “funeral” clothing. Furthermore, French newspapers referred to their designs as “ragged” or “bag-lady fashion,” attempting to marginalize them as something outside established taste.

These criticisms were not merely aesthetic judgments; they also functioned to maintain order within the fashion field. Cultural intermediaries tend to welcome innovation as long as it remains within existing rules. However, when a challenge threatens to disrupt the framework itself, they often use negative discourse to preserve the stability of the field.

More importantly, these evaluations were closely tied to cultural identity. Many media outlets linked their work to Japanese traditions such as “Zen” or “wabi-sabi,” and described them using images like “samurai” or “monks,” thereby emphasizing their otherness. While such discourse may appear to acknowledge cultural difference, in reality it positioned them as fundamentally different from the West and kept them at a distance from the center.

In response, Yamamoto stated that he wanted to be seen not as a “Japanese designer,” but simply as a designer working on a global stage. Kawakubo likewise distanced herself from such categorizations. Their aim was not to be understood as representatives of Japanese culture, but as creators of a new universal form of expression.

However, these negative evaluations were not fixed. From the late 1980s into the 1990s, similar expressions were reinterpreted through the concept of “deconstruction,” particularly by designers such as Martin Margiela. Styles that had once been criticized were re-evaluated as having new value. What we see here is not a change in the works themselves, but a shift in the framework through which they were interpreted.

From this, it becomes clear that the challenge of Japanese designers was not only creative, but also strongly shaped by the discourse surrounding them. Value in fashion is formed not only by the hands of designers, but also by the words of cultural intermediaries.

Therefore, the next question to consider is how such “misreadings” and the emphasis on “otherness” were eventually transformed into value. By tracing the changing evaluations of Japanese designers, we can further clarify the mechanisms of value production in fashion.