THE KIMONO, the traditional garment of Japan, gets a new life under the hands of fashion designer Yumi Christina (she drops her last name, Sakamoto, for work). Of both Japanese and Filipino descent, the designer’s work melds both of her worlds, with the materials coming from the land of her father, and the labor from the land of her mother.
We met Ms. Sakamoto during an event with Moda Interni on Nov. 28, with her work, old kimonos turned into suits and gowns, displayed alongside the flamboyant creations of Italian furniture brand Opera Contemporary. Her clothes are sold under the brand EDYA1929, a tribute to a store her great-grandfather opened in 1929, before the Second World War forced it to close.
On view was an iridescent shot silk dress woven with a pattern of flowers, the skirt hemmed with peacock feathers. A similar dress, this time in cream, was hemmed with what seemed to be albino peacock feathers (Ms. Sakamoto bleached them white). There was a corset in gold brocade, a wrap dress in the same luxurious tint, and a cream blazer with a raised pattern of clouds.
In the showroom, she hung a cream brocade robe, used only for the most formal of occasions, embroidered with golden cranes. This one she doesn’t dare rework: she just keeps it around for inspiration.
She herself wore a blazer of her own creation: trees in blossom are on a black silk background, and a pond of gold snakes around the pattern, looking like water when sunlight hits it at sunset.
Ms. Sakamoto moved from Japan to the Philippines five years ago. “It’s a bit of an embarrassing story but — I got divorced while I was pregnant. I couldn’t do it on my own in Japan anymore. My family’s here,” she told us in an interview.
During her stay, she found an old kimono in, of all places, a Japan Surplus store. “The old kimono I found in Japan Surplus was really messy. A lot of stains. I never had interest in kimono before. I felt like — I was so sad at the time. So when I saw that kimono, I was like, ‘You’re here also. You came all the way from Japan, too.’”
“I knew that there are a lot of kimono discarded in Japan. I wanted to find a home for them. I wanted them to be loved by someone again. It doesn’t have to be in Japan. In the Philippines, it’s perfect,” she said.
“It’s like my healing journey as well. I want to be loved again. But I have to be healed: creating is my healing process.”
She has been in fashion for 18 years, but back in Japan, she worked for more casual American brands, dressing people like skaters. “But I’m a girl. I love wearing a dress. I always design a dress for myself. But I had no idea how to create a dress.”
After coming from casual wear, her new work touches on couture, using pure silk and artisanal techniques like embroidery. We mentioned that the material comes from the land of her father, but the labor comes from the land of her mother: everything she knows now about technique, she learned from artisans in the Philippines.
She started by discussing the difficulties of working with the material: silk shrinks when washed, with the initial washing she does. Kimono fabric, according to her, comes at 12 or 13 inches in width (she gestured with her hands). “So it’s very limited,” and she can’t make larger garments unless she combines them. She receives the kimono now as donations, either from her pop-ups at Japanese department stores or friends from her old life in fashion. “They don’t know what to do with their own kimonos, so they just send it to me.”
Sometimes, the kimono arrives damaged or stained: that’s where the Filipino artisans come in. “Made-to-order and couture in this country is very advanced,” she said, which is surprising when we realize how many famed fashion designers come from Japan (Hanae Mori, or Issey Miyake, or Rei Kawakubo, for example). “There are a lot of artisans [in the Philippines]. Everywhere. Beaders, sewers. They help me hide all the stains by beading, embroidery,” she said.
“I think the Philippines is more flexible, and very open-minded to these kimono dresses. I think I can’t do this if I’m still in Japan. I can do this because I’m here in the Philippines,” she said.
She told us what she loves about working with the old, and why there should still be space for them in this world constantly churning out the new. “The technique, the embroidery, and the hand painting: it’s done by very skillful and talented artisans. They’re old already. It’s sayang (a waste) to throw them away,” she said. “If they’re gone, no one can do this anymore.”
“[Each piece] has its own history and story. Some people tell me a story of their kimono. I fall in love with the story first, so I can make the design for this story,” she said.
“Some people say that old things have bad spirits. Sometimes I feel something weird when I touch the old kimono, but I also feel that I can rebirth them by designing, creating them, into something else.”
Yumi Christina’s work can be found at edya1929.com. — Joseph L. Garcia
