When someone is described as a “Japanese designer” in the Paris fashion world, many people immediately think of Issey Miyake, Rei Kawakubo, or Yohji Yamamoto. However, for the designers themselves, this label was not always something they could accept without hesitation. While their collections were praised for innovation and experimentation, they often felt uneasy about being confined within the framework of the “Japanese.” This discomfort is not merely a personal sentiment; it is directly connected to fundamental questions about the nature of cultural identity.

A theoretical framework that helps us examine this issue is the “non-essentialist perspective of cultural identity” proposed by cultural theorist Stuart Hall. Hall questioned the idea that cultural identity is fixed and unchanging. In conventional views, the culture of a nation or ethnic group was often regarded as something that had always existed, with an essence that remained constant. Hall, however, understood cultural identity not as a fixed essence but as something “always in the process of becoming.” He described identity as “a ‘production’ which is never complete, always in process, and always constituted within representation” (Hall 1990). Furthermore, Hall preferred the term “identification” over “identity,” emphasizing that identity is not a stable entity but a positional attachment temporarily constructed within discourse and practice (Hall 1996). In this sense, cultural identity is not a discovered essence but something constructed within historical and discursive relations—always multiple, fragmented, and strategic.

From this perspective, the term “Japanese designer” is not a label that reveals an inherent essence, but rather a discourse socially constructed within a particular historical and cultural context. Since the 1970s, being Japanese in the Paris fashion scene has at times been narrated as a kind of brand value or mark of individuality. Yet this does not mean that the designers’ expressions were intrinsically “Japanese.” Instead, an external framework temporarily fixed and defined their “Japaneseness.”

The discomfort felt by Miyake, Kawakubo, and Yamamoto originates precisely in this structure. Their creative work was absorbed into a fixed identity and reduced to something merely “Japanese,” and they resisted this simplification. Kawakubo’s collections were sometimes described as “Japanese minimalism,” yet she consistently pursued experimental forms that could not be contained within such a label. Miyake and Yamamoto likewise sought to preserve their freedom of expression, resisting confinement by the expectations of the global market and critical discourse.

What matters here is not the denial of Japaneseness. By adopting Hall’s non-essentialist perspective, Japaneseness can be reconsidered as something variable and negotiable. Rather than a fixed image, it can be understood as a multilayered attribute that shifts according to time and context. This allows designers to move beyond dependence on external evaluation and to use their identity strategically.

Indeed, once we acknowledge this fluidity, Japaneseness can be reconstructed as a “resource” or a strategy of differentiation. In one collection, traditional materials or techniques may be foregrounded and reinterpreted in contemporary ways to highlight distinctiveness within an international context. In another case, deliberately avoiding stereotypical symbols of Japanese culture can help preserve creative freedom. Such strategic operations of identity are not merely branding tactics; they are the result of self-recognition and negotiation within the field of cultural representation.

In other words, the discomfort surrounding the label “Japanese designer” reflects the tension between the creator’s own expression and social evaluation. This tension marks the starting point for understanding cultural identity from a non-essentialist perspective. From Hall’s viewpoint, culture is not a fixed category but a site of ongoing negotiation and transformation.

Beyond this understanding lies the possibility for designers to strategically mobilize their identity and to utilize Japaneseness as a cultural resource. This discussion also serves as a bridge to the next installment, which will explore the practice of strategically reconstructing Japaneseness. The creative process that begins by questioning fixed identities offers not only new perspectives on fashion, but also on culture more broadly.

References

Hall, Stuart (1990) 'Cultural Identity and Diaspora', in Rutherford, Jonathan (ed.), Identity: Community, Culture, Difference. London: Lawrence & Wishart.

Hall, Stuart (1996) 'Who needs identity?', in Hall Stuart and du Gay, Paul (eds.) Question of Cultural Identity. London: Sage

Back to Top