Relay Column: A Liberal Translation of the Modern History of Japanese Fashion and Its Future by Yuri Ridwan

The contemporary history of Japanese fashion can be divided into three periods: the early period (70s-80s), the middle period (90s to mid-00s), and the late period (mid-00s to mid-10s). The early period features the "Gosanke (The Noble Three Houses)," [1]the middle period is characterized by "Ura-hara culture" and "2000s subculture brands,"[2] and the late period focuses on "post-internet designer brands."[3] On a personal note, I believe that Japanese fashion history reached a certain conclusion in 2016.

The Filter Bubble and the End of Street Fashion

For a long time, Japan sustained segmented and unique trends originating from the streets. However, from 2011 to 2016, Instagram as we know it today took shape, shifting the trend transmission from street snaps (in print magazines and web media) to Instagram. While it seemed like trends became more democratic, rooted in the real preferences and popularity of consumers, the trends through Instagram quickly transformed into tools for manipulating consumer behavior via social media marketing.

The diverse and distinctive styles from individuals on the streets became buried in the avalanche of information. Under the pressure of social media marketing and ultra-fast fashion pushing consumption, trends began to shift faster than ever. By re-trending past styles, the necessity to find newness from the streets diminished.

On social media, by liking a post, the algorithm learns your preferences and continuously supplies information you might like. For example, the current broad trend of Y2K and its multiple micro-trends are supplied to cater to individual tastes. People consume the Y2K trend in the most acceptable form for them. Trapped in the filter bubble[4] created by algorithms, styles outside the Y2K trend are excluded from view. This led to the end of grassroots fashion emerging from the streets in 2016.

The Opening of Information and the End of the Galápagos Effect

Fashion led by designers also saw a shift post-2016. These newer brands lack the sense of common consciousness or solidarity seen in previous generations. The early period saw a rise in mass consumer society, the middle period went through the collapse of the bubble economy and various disasters and terrorism, and the late period faced new threats from disasters alongside the spread of smartphones, leading to a fully information-driven society. Fashion in each era stemmed from solidarity, creating styles and trends. However, in a time where we can instantly access global fashion trends online, local solidarity and unique "Galápagos" style development, which flourished in closed environments, have weakened, making it harder to cultivate unique cultures.

The most significant issue is the "decline of players." With the domestic market continually shrinking, Japanese fashion culture must become an export industry to survive. However, Japanese uniqueness, once capable of competing globally, is now nearly extinct due to the opening of information and the end of street fashion. The youth, who should carry this trend forward, find themselves consuming global trends instead. Creating movements and cultures as cohesive groups, as done in the past, is now impractical due to the lack of players with a shared consciousness.

However, looking at Japan's music and art scenes, the term "collective" has become increasingly prominent, especially through the societal disruptions caused by the pandemic. There may lie a hidden potential for Japanese fashion to regain its uniqueness. Recently, young artists organize events intertwining "art, music, and fashion," running galleries, and curating by themselves. Many young fashion enthusiasts gather at such events. They understand it’s not enough to connect with the world solely online—they must also step out physically. Looking back, fashion has always formed a culture along with music and art in every era. This makes me feel hopeful about the resurgence of collectives, and writing this has reminded me that I, too, must do what I can.