Yohji Yamamoto

He didn’t tailor for the body — he tailored for the soul.

His philosophy reshaped how we think about form. A jacket could drape like a verse. A suit could be haunted. A shirt could grieve.

At Second Sons, we draw from his rebellion. Our cuts may be sharp, but they leave room for movement. For mystery. We don’t seek to perfect every seam — we seek to say something with it. Just like Yohji taught us.

The Tailor Who Dared to Break the Thread

Yamamoto never played by the rules of traditional tailoring. While the West chased symmetry and polish, he pursued rupture — garments that whispered rather than shouted. Where others stitched to fit, he designed to question. Black was not absence but depth. Asymmetry was not flaw, but feeling.

In a time when fashion glorified excess, Yohji leaned into the shadows — exploring silence, space, and the beauty of things left undone. His clothes looked lived-in, sometimes wounded, always intentional. A shoulder dropped just slightly, a hem cut abruptly, a stitch purposefully missing — every imperfection a form of poetry.

He didn’t tailor for the body — he tailored for the soul.

The Sculptor of Shadows. The Poet of Fabric.

In an industry built on spectacle, Yohji Yamamoto found truth in absence.

His philosophy reshaped how we think about form. A jacket could drape like a verse. A suit could be haunted. A shirt could grieve.

At Second Sons, we draw from his rebellion. Our cuts may be sharp, but they leave room for movement. For mystery. We don’t seek to perfect every seam — we seek to say something with it. Just like Yohji taught us.

“I think perfection is ugly. Somewhere in the things humans make, I want to see scars, failure, disorder, distortion.” — Yohji Yamamoto