
The Paris-Europe district, home to the Paris Conservatoire (Paris National Supérieur de Musique), is home to many music stores. Among the many music stores is the atelier and boutique of Kenjiro Suzuki, one of France's few Japanese tailors. Late last year, NHK aired the documentary "Professional: Tailor Suzuki Kenjiro: A New Breeze in Paris, Aesthetics in a Single Stitch." Shortly afterward, Yoshimi Hasegawa published "Fulfilling Dreams: Parisian Tailor Suzuki Kenjiro," drawing widespread attention. While Suzuki has spoken about his inner self in various media outlets, including these, he has only spoken about his work as a tailor—a craftsman. What kind of answers would a tailor who doesn't follow trends receive from a fashion perspective? To find out, we visited his atelier and boutique.
--When Tom Ford first founded his own brand, France was a relatively underdeveloped country in men's fashion compared to the UK and Italy, and he even stated that he had no intention of opening a boutique there because French men don't care about their appearance. So why did you choose France as the country to open your atelier and boutique?
After graduating from a vocational school in Japan, I worked as a pattern maker, teaming up with a designer from Parsons in New York who showed his work at the Tokyo Collection. Many of the artists around that designer happened to be influenced by Parisian culture. That's why I thought Paris was the place to create beautiful things. I didn't come to Paris because I wanted to be a tailor. I think most people who aspire to be tailors go to the UK or Italy.
--I'm also a Japanese person living in Paris. I imagine there are many challenges in Paris.
After joining Francesco Smalto (a top Parisian tailor, where Suzuki was the first Japanese to serve as chief cutter), I found it difficult to build relationships with people. While English is the common language in the ready-to-wear industry, French is the primary language for tailors, so language is a major challenge.
The workplace is typically staffed by people with over 40 years of experience, and the world is closed. There's a diverse mix of foreigners, including Italians, Spaniards, and Moroccans, all hoping to become tailors themselves. Naturally, friction arises in this environment. I was even told directly, "Get out!" Even my boss was jealous of me. He would tear up the patterns I'd drawn after completing them. It was a tough environment.
The French are proud, look down on other Europeans, and always believe they're superior. They also believe white people are chic. It's not easy to build good relationships with people who think like that. Also, in France, there's a custom of biting newcomers to the workplace to see if they'll submit. If you ignore them, they'll continue to submit, so you have to bite them back. This happened almost every day, and it was extremely stressful. I continued in that environment for four and a half years.
When I went independent, it was also difficult, especially finding customers. During the Smalto era, cutters would normally meet with customers, take their measurements, and do fittings. However, this carried the risk that cutters would go independent while still retaining their clients. To avoid this, Francesco Smalto had separate staff members take measurements and do fittings, and a system was established where cutters could not meet with customers. For a while after going independent, it was tough taking measurements after customers finished work, working until late at night, making and delivering on weekends, all while developing new clients.
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