Comment by Mariko Mikuni




When designing knitwear, I often start by considering the technique. For knitting needles, for example, I think about whether it would be multi-color stranded work, Aran, or lace knitting. To me, the knitting needle technique is like Japanese grammar; it feels natural to develop a knitted story with it.



However, this time we started with the plan to “create some garment with crochet.” As someone not particularly versed in crochet pattern work, it felt uncomfortable to begin by thinking about the technique first. Actually, I did try. I attempted to use various elaborate stitches, referencing pattern books. Still, while I could crochet, I found myself caught up in the complexity of the patterns, my heart strangely constricted, unable to soar. Techniques can be amusing when you can put them into use, but being trapped by them too much so that it keeps you from creativity would be putting the cart before the horse. That is why this time, I decided to imagine the garment that I wanted to make using just a few basic stitches that I knew.



When I began working on Cafe Colors in the spring of 2024, I was looking through a book about the Wiener Werkstätte, also known as the Vienna Workshop. The Wiener Werkstätte was a design collective for applied arts that emerged in Vienna in the early 20th century, where (very roughly speaking,) new forms of objects and patterns were born one after another, supported by a prosperous bourgeois class. Their essence lay in how they combined geometric lines with organic forms, as well as in their use of color. The textiles created by the workshop somehow remind us of the characters of theatrical costumes, and the shapes of their tailored clothes were also somewhat comical and humorous. Looking at the frontispiece photographs of these works, I thought, “It’d be great to have something like this, maybe a sweater with this kind of taste.”



But what kind of sweater would that be? After pondering for a while, what came to my mind was an Arlequin (a clown). Let’s make a loose overgarment with an Arlequin-like mood. Create a design in two tones with contrasting colors and strategically placed geometric patterns. Combine trapezoid and heart-shaped knitted pieces to create a puzzle-like structure. If I do it right, it should turn out lovely.



This is how the Arlequin-style cardigan was born, through the collaboration of the form inspired by the Wiener Werkstätte and the simple crochet techniques.



Let me tell you the reason why we named it Cafe Colors, too. It all comes down to the color variations. The black-based one is called Cherry Coke, the gray-based one is Iced Coffee Float, and the emerald green-based one is Melon Soda—each named after slightly nostalgic drinks. When thinking about what to call the collection as a whole, Shibuya from our team suggested, “Wouldn’t Cafe be perfect for this?” I think it’s a great name too.



To return to the technique, the polka dot pattern on the front and back of the body, created by knitting three-dimensional dots into a double crochet base, was not something I found in the pattern book, but rather something that emerged while trying various test knits. Crochet is starting to fascinate me.