Brand Story #01 Why More People Should Know WASEW
Inside WASEW’s Osaka Showroom and Sewing Room
On 6 August, I visited WASEW to take a look at their upcoming 27SS collection.
I have known the brand for some time, but while looking through the new collection and talking with founder Kawanami-san, our conversation gradually moved away from the clothes hanging in front of us. We started talking about how WASEW began, why he chose to build his own brand, how he approaches vintage clothing, and what he believes his role is in making a garment.
Somewhere during that conversation, I had a simple thought:
More people outside Japan should know about WASEW.
Not because it is a huge brand, or because it produces an endless number of new styles each season. In fact, much of its appeal comes from almost the opposite.
WASEW operates on a human scale.
Garments are developed in a small space in Osaka, surrounded by sewing machines, patterns, rolls of fabric, old reference books and racks of samples. Production happens in small batches, with much of the sewing and finishing carried out close to where the clothes are designed and developed.
There is something warm about seeing clothes made this way. Not “warm” as a marketing phrase, but simply in the sense that you can still feel the people behind them.
Hironori Kawanami, designer of WASEW, inside the brand’s Osaka workspace.
BEFORE WASEW, THERE WAS OEM
Interestingly, starting his own clothing brand was not Kawanami-san’s first plan.
After moving on from FULLCOUNT and going independent, his priority was much more practical: he needed work.
Without an investor or financial backing behind him, he spent his first few years taking on OEM production and building relationships with shops and other clothing companies.
As he explained it, there simply wasn’t much room at the time to think about launching a brand of his own.
He was too busy trying to keep the business moving.
After around three years of concentrating on OEM work, however, the idea of creating something for himself began to take shape.
Around 2015, he started developing an original fabric for a T-shirt.
Not a collection.
Not ten different products.
Just a T-shirt.
He experimented with the fabric for several years before finally reaching a point around 2018 where he felt:
“This is the one.”
That gradual approach still says a lot about WASEW today.
Kawanami-san described himself as someone who is not particularly good at doing “this, that and everything” at the same time. Instead, he developed things one by one.
First the T-shirt.
Then trousers.
Then shirts.
As more shops began carrying the brand, the collection gradually expanded.
WASEW did not begin with a fully formed seasonal line. It was built piece by piece.
WA + SEW
Even the name came after the product had started to take shape.
WASEW combines “WA”, referring to Japan — with “SEW”.
At its simplest, it represents Japanese sewing and the quality of making clothes in Japan.
But there is another, slightly more personal meaning behind it too. The sound of wa can also suggest ideas such as “we”, “ours” or something belonging to one’s own circle.
That combination feels appropriate once you spend some time inside WASEW.
The brand is Japanese, certainly, but its identity does not come from putting obviously Japanese symbols onto every garment.
Instead, the Japanese character appears through how things are made, how closely details are considered, and the relationship between the people involved in making them.
Sample archive and working files, with past garments and references kept close at hand.
Vintage Is a Reference, Not a Rule
Like many people working in this part of Japanese clothing, Kawanami-san has a deep interest in vintage garments.
Old military clothing, workwear and classic American basics can be found throughout the workspace, alongside books covering military uniforms, camouflage, traditional textiles and vintage clothing.
WASEW does not want to become a replica brand.
Vintage garments are studied closely, and there are times when an original construction or detail is reproduced with considerable accuracy. The M-65 he mentioned during our conversation is one example.
But historical accuracy is not automatically the final goal.
A detail from one garment might be taken and used somewhere completely different. A pair of coveralls might inspire a vest. Something that worked seventy years ago might remain untouched, while another part is altered because WASEW believes it can work better today.
Vintage is therefore less of a blueprint and more of a vocabulary.
The important question is not simply:
“How was this made originally?”
but also:
“What can we do with it now?”
Seeing the Parts Other People Might Miss
One part of our conversation stayed with me in particular.
Kawanami-san spoke quite openly about his own role in making clothes.
He does not personally sew every garment. He does not weave the fabric himself or tan the leather himself.
So, he asked himself, what exactly is his job?
His answer, in a way, lies in observation.
He studies old garments and notices details that can easily be overlooked. He works closely with pattern makers and asks them to pick up small characteristics that he believes matter. During sewing, he checks the garments and points out areas that need to be adjusted.
Sometimes an old garment is placed directly beside a new sample so that everyone involved can understand exactly what he is looking at.
Pattern pieces and production tools inside the WASEW sewing room.
This is perhaps where WASEW’s background in OEM becomes especially important.
The brand is not simply designing an idea and sending it somewhere else to be made.
There is a constant conversation between design, pattern, sewing and the finished garment.
And because the scale remains small, those conversations can stay close.
If It Isn't Right, It Doesn't Go Out
When I asked what he was unwilling to compromise on, Kawanami-san thought about it for a while.
Then his answer became surprisingly simple.
If he does not think something is cool, WASEW will not release it.
Even if the sample has already been made.
There have been products that reached the development stage and were eventually dropped because he simply was not satisfied with them.
The attitude of “we already made it, so we may as well sell it” does not really exist.
That may sound obvious, but anyone who works around clothing knows it is not always how business works.
Seasonal schedules exist. Production slots exist. Sales targets exist.
Sometimes the easiest decision is simply to keep moving.
WASEW is small enough — and perhaps stubborn enough — to stop.
For me, that says more about its idea of quality than simply listing expensive fabrics or complicated sewing specifications.
Fabric rolls and leftover materials stored around the WASEW workspace.
From Making Clothes for Himself to Making Clothes for Someone
At the beginning, Kawanami-san said WASEW was largely about making the things he personally wanted to wear.
Even denim came partly from something quite personal.
He likes classic clothing, but he has never felt particularly comfortable in the most famous of all five-pocket jeans, the 501. Rather than accepting that as the standard, he became interested in making denim that felt right for him.
Over time, however, something changed.
Customers appeared.
Retailers appeared.
He began to recognise the people wearing WASEW.
Now, when developing a product, he sometimes finds himself thinking about a particular customer or even the face of a shop owner.
The brand is no longer simply:
“What do I want to wear?”
It has become:
“What should WASEW make for the people who have chosen to wear it?”
I think that is an important evolution.
It doesn't mean following the market blindly. It means that the relationship has become two-way.
A look at WASEW’s upcoming 27SS collection samples inside the Osaka showroom.
Made at a Human Scale
Walking around the WASEW workspace after our conversation, that idea became easier to understand.
Industrial sewing machines sit beside piles of garments waiting for the next process. Rolls of fabric are stored wherever space allows. Shelves are filled with threads, reference materials and years of accumulated samples. Finished T-shirts sit only a few steps away from patterns and sewing tables.
It feels like a place where people actually make clothes.
And maybe that is the best way I can describe what I like about WASEW.
There are plenty of Japanese brands capable of making technically excellent garments.
WASEW has that attention to construction too.
But behind the specifications there is also something less measurable: the sense that the product has passed through a relatively small number of hands, and that somebody was still looking closely enough to say:
“No. This part needs to be better.”
Or occasionally:
“No. We shouldn't release this at all.”
That is the warmth I feel from WASEW.
Not nostalgia.
Not simply “Made in Japan”.
Just clothes still being made at a scale where people, judgement and personality remain visible in the final product.
And that is why we think more people should know the name.
WASEW.
Wrapping up the visit with Kawanami-san at a Chinese restaurant near the WASEW factory in Osaka.