“The trouble with Yohji’s clothes,” said Meredith, “is that you can’t get out of them in a hurry. Do you suppose these girls get any sex at? They’re clothes for puritans, mind clothes, not body clothes. Yohji’s an intellectual, a recluse. He lives in the country somewhere outside Tokyo and washes linen in streams, you know, arts and crafty. Never cracks a smile. . . It won’t last though. The Japanese will be interesting for a couple more seasons but they’ve nowhere to develop, you’ll see. It’s ethnic, after all. It’s old National Geographic school of design. If Saint Laurent goes to Marrakesh for a long holiday you know jolly well there’ll be a few jellabas knocking about in his next collection. If he went to Tokyo instead, he’d produce a stronger Japanese collection than Rei Kawakubo.”
Je savais pas trop où poster ça.
Critique, datée de 1984, sur Yohji Yamamoto de la part d'une nana de WWD. Une autre époque putain.