Chief editor of FRUiTS Shoichi Aoki has been a witness of the streets of Tokyo since the 90s. We spoke to him about the changes in street style from the mid-90s to 2010s to now. In the first part, he mainly covered the years between 1997—when he founded FRUiTS—to 1999. Here, Aoki talks about his impressions from the 2000s to now. 

—(Continued from part one) Once the Urahara hype took over in the mid-90s, you began shooting mostly women for FRUiTS. You then published TUNE in 2004. 

Shoichi Aoki (Aoki): Around 2003, a decade-ish after what we now call Urahara sprouted, a new style for men emerged. In my impression, the boutique CANNABIS was the thing that set it off. The staff there wore strange outfits. I still vividly remember their fashion show on the street in front of the store. I liked the fashion they showcased. It was kind of random. I don’t know how people would perceive it today, though. The style of the audience was interesting too.  

The kids who had the Urahara mindset thought the clothes were uncool and weird. Even most of my staff were like, “I’m not sure about this.” Back then, Rei Shito was one of my staff, and she was close with the staff at CANNABIS, so she backed them up. I thought they were interesting too, so I asked my staff—who had taken photos of girls for FRUiTS—to take pictures of boys who had a CANNABIS-like style. That became TUNE.  

It’s still a mystery how they had polished outfits right from the start. It’s not easy to give off that vibe, but they had a level of perfection that made it seem like they’d been dressing that way for years. A few years until that point, only Urahara fashion existed for boys.  

—It seems like women didn’t buy into the Urahara wave at first.  

Aoki: They didn’t for about three years. The difference between the direction of men’s and women’s styles was big. I feel like it was hard for pairs to be born. When the magazine mini came out in 2000, the girls started dressing in an Urahara way, and their hang-out spot changed from Harajuku to Daikanyama. I didn’t understand the style, so I asked other staff to shoot for FRUiTS.  

—What were you interested in then?  

Aoki: I wasn’t interested in anything (laughs). I was in a slump.  

—How long did that last?  

Aoki: For about five years. Even after my staff began shooting for FRUiTS, we were pretty well as a platform. Looking back, the most stylish people in Harajuku moved towards Daikanyama-esque fashion, so the quality of the styling was high and polished. Imported products became the main thing, and stores like grapevine by k3 and other stores by stylists came out. Fashion in London was being refined then, so maybe that was an influence, too. That was probably around the time I shot Lotta Volkova on the streets of London for STREET. 

—If what you’re describing was a period of transition, I feel like we’re in another one right now, where people are trying to break through the refined nature of fashion.  

Aoki: Right. That’s why I’m excited about what’s to come, and I want to do something too. Some people are still diehard fashion lovers, but the business isn’t full of life, and teenagers no longer know what to wear. The vibe right now is similar to when the DC craze ended. It all depends on the situation after the pandemic. 

A new shift in fashion during the late 2000s  

—Let’s go back in time a bit. Once we entered the 2000s, fashion became refined and relaxed. What happened after that?  

Aoki: When everybody was waiting for Harajuku fashion to return, the boutique, Faline, opened in 2004. Maybe the store staff’s loud style and color usage were the catalysts for change. Until then, Nakao-chan was the only person who didn’t stop wearing loud outfits in Harajuku. It’s possible for just one person or store to change the direction of Harajuku fashion. Around 2010, Kyary Pamyu Pamyu came onto the scene. And Harajuku fashion came back very slowly.   

—I clearly remember when Kyary Pamyu Pamyu first came out. A lot of people I knew were like, “I don’t get it!” 

Aoki: Kids that thought Daikanyama fashion was boring started wearing incohesive outfits. I feel like young people also wanted to revive Harajuku fashion. Ayumi Seto first appeared in FRUiTS around then, and we put her on the cover right away. She still had this innocent look, and the clothing items she wore all had different vibes. At first glance, it seemed like it was a mistake. But then I thought she was doing it on purpose, as a reconstruction of that refined Daikanyama fashion. This might be my individual interpretation, but the role of FRUiTS was to highlight people like her who [wore clothes] their own way. Looking at Seto’s career since then, I believe that was the real her. I’m not sure what she thinks, but she did a great job.  

However, Harajuku fashion didn’t explode [in popularity] after that. The era of fast fashion arrived. 

—Right.

Aoki: While receiving the impact of fast fashion, store staff became icons in Harajuku fashion. Because of the influence of the Daikanyama-esque era, people had this odd habit of polishing their style. The level of the iconic store staff’s style was so high that kids who wanted to get into fashion felt like they didn’t stand a chance. I mean, it was inevitable.  

—The styling skills of the mainstays improved, and younger people couldn’t keep up. 

Aoki: The bar was set too high for newcomers. 

—I see (laughs). I thought fashion was made of the repetition of mainstream movements and movements that reacted against it. But it seems like it’s layered on top of one another like a mille-feuille. It’s impossible to talk about fashion by cutting each piece apart.   

Aoki: People say that history repeats itself, but the history of Japanese fashion isn’t that long, so it’s still in the first cycle.  

Geniuses that change the zeitgeist  

—I see that you’re the type of person who wants to observe different fashion styles, even if you don’t like them. That’s very journalistic. 

Aoki: The range of styles I like is wide. At times, I don’t distinguish them by categories. Looking back at the staff I worked with, the scope of fashion they could grasp was narrow. 

I like [it when people] coordinate an outfit, so I like all types of looks aside from the ones comprised of only one brand. I’m okay with people wearing Martin Margiela from head to toe. There’s a reason behind that, though. In that sense, I didn’t really like gothic Lolita outfits. It seems like people associate FRUiTS with that because recently, people have been reaching out to me about gothic Lolita photos. In actuality, I only featured a few gothic Lolita photos in the magazine at the beginning. It was an intriguing phenomenon. I should say this just in case; gothic Lolita and Lolita aren’t the same.  

—I assume cosplay-ish styles aren’t your preference because they’re separate from fashion. 

Aoki: Cosplay isn’t fashion; it’s cosplay. It’s separate from everyday life. But some people bring that to Harajuku. Because it’s a city where different styles are allowed, it accepts that. I avoid shooting that because it’s different from shooting street style. If you look at one photo from the peak of Decora style, you’ll see that it was so loud and didn’t look that different from cosplay. But there’s a backstory to how those people got to that point. For them, it was street style. 

—So, you’re still okay with people wearing Off-White from head to toe (laughs)? I apologize for being so persistent.  

Aoki: Well, it’s not cosplay (laughs). Not many people in Japan have the attitude and financial means to wear Off-White from head to toe. I don’t think Virgil (Abloh) himself expected people to wear Off-White all over. Street style, according to him, is about having fun with coordinating outfits. The brand’s role is to [provide] staple products for that. In my view, Chinese people who wear Off-White from head to toe look nice, in terms of both attitude and financial means. It’s much better than office workers who wore Armani all over during the economic bubble era in Japan. 

Also, we shouldn’t forget that Garçons and Martin Margiela were criticized in a similar way by fashion insiders, especially the media and fashion critics, at the beginning of their careers. 

—It’s not rare for people in fashion to have a negative view of monogram culture, as well as Vetements selling a shirt at an outrageous price.  

Aoki: Really? They were witty enough to steal a DHL shirt design and sell it for 100,000 yen. It was like they were raising a question. In the context of contemporary art, they created simulationism. Perhaps it was the antithesis to the price collapse brought on by fast fashion. And the audience answered their question. If you don’t like something, all you got to do is not purchase it. This applies to Virgil too, but they’re geniuses, so I don’t think people should interpret their work carelessly. They’ll regret it later (laughs). Not unlike baseball players who criticized Ohtani for being a two-way player.  

You can’t do anything about monogram culture. Those people have that desire. As someone who experienced wearing Lacoste’s crocodile-embroidered clothes, I’m not in a position to say anything. I’m sure I’m not making sense right now (laughs). It’s appealing. It’s a big challenge for designers to deal with this matter. Perhaps the DHL shirt embodied that.  

—I didn’t know brands and their audience have a complicit relationship.  

Aoki: When Vetements first showed their collection in Paris, they had a loyal following from the start. By their next season, many people wore their clothes. As an audience, the reaction was like, “Finally!” At the same time, (John) Galliano had been appointed as the creative director of Martin Margiela and presented a collection as Maison Margiela. It was drastically different from the brand until that point, so many fans were against it. After Martin quit and before Galliano was appointed, Demna (Gvasalia) was the designer of [womenswear], and he started a new brand. He inherited the oversized silhouettes of Margiela, which in my interpretation, is the narrative that made people support the brand. 

—When FRUiTS ceased publication in 2017, you said the reason behind that was because “stylish people no longer hung out in Harajuku.” I got the impression that Japanese fashion itself was dying from your statement. Do you have a feeling that it’ll revive? 

Aoki: I’m sure everyone’s forgotten this by now. Back then, fashion was in a bad place because of fast fashion. Many people asked me in interviews if fashion was ending. I thought it was going to be over. But I had faith in the styling skills of Harajuku girls, so I thought it would work out. We’re at the crossroads of whether or not fashion will die again due to covid. I still believe in the styling skills and desire of Harajuku girls, though. 

Just so there are no misunderstandings: UNIQLO isn’t part of my definition of fast fashion. That’s a separate entity. 

—Do you think that time’s coming soon? 

Aoki: It’s in the air. I think people are frustrated, fashion-wise, because of covid. One or several game-changing geniuses have historically changed fashion drastically. The DC craze was [defeated by] Rei Kawakubo and Yohji Yamamoto, and Urahara was [started by] Hiroshi Fujiwara and others. Demna and Virgil might’ve been the ones who [helped us] escape two or three fast fashion companies. I guess I’m waiting for the genius of Harajuku to arrive. 

—What’s next in store for you? 

Aoki: The role of FRUiTS is to stay up-to-date with small movements that no one notices, so I’m doing fieldwork in Harajuku every day. Even though the publication of FRUiTS ended, I still sometimes take pictures of girls I like with my smartphone. I want to give it some form and bring FRUiTS back.

Shoichi Aoki 
Photographer and chief editor. CEO of Lens Co., Ltd. Born in 1955 in Tokyo. After having a career in programming, Shoichi Aoki published STREET in 1985. He published FRUiTS, a collection of authentic portraits of the streets of Harajuku, in 1997 and attracted a global audience. After that, he put out the men’s version of FRUiTS called TUNE and .RUBY.  

Twitter：@FruitsMag
Instagram：＠fruitsmag
Instagram：@fruits_magazine_archives
Instagram：@streetmag

Photography Kazuo Yoshida

The post Will Harajuku fashion make a comeback?—An interview with Shoichi Aoki, the founder of STREET, FRUiTS, and TUNE (part II) appeared first on TOKION - Cutting edge culture and fashion information.

When you hear the term street style, what image comes to mind? It might differ according to the era, but it’s safe to say many people think of brands that represent Ura-Harajuku. “Urahara” street culture has reached big-name fashion houses like Louis Vuitton and Dior, thanks to Virgil Abloh and Kim Jones.  

In contrast to the Urahara hype of the mid-90s to early 2000s, a distinctly Japanese take on styling became popular, such as both domestic and international brands combining techno elements and traditional Japanese aesthetics. Shoichi Aoki, the chief editor of FRUiTS, launched in 1997, latched onto the phenomenon early on. In 1985, Aoki began publishing STREET, a magazine featuring street style in places like London and Paris, and has continued to witness street style around the globe since then. He says that the street style of Tokyo in the mid-90s had an appeal precisely because it was from Japan.  

Aoki spoke to us about the transformation of street style throughout the mid-90s to 2010s to today. In part one, he shares his views of the years between 1997 to 1999.  

——In 2019, before covid, you posted “A Declaration of Discord” on your personal Facebook page. Simply put, your post aimed to summarize post-Vetements movements from a street-style perspective. You also talked about the function of Harajuku as a city. I followed your project with enthusiasm because of your novel point of view. Things have changed drastically since then.  

Shoichi Aoki (Aoki): I know (laughs)! People might’ve forgotten this already; in the early 2010s, fashion was in a dark place because of the rise of fast fashion. It seemed to me that brands like Off-White were trying to bounce back from that. Until then, there was no direction. Because the price of clothes had generally gone down, smaller designers and shops, with hopes of growing, were backed into a corner. Even big commercial corporations were struggling. Just when people were wondering what would happen in the future, Demna Gvasalia of Vetements (the creative director of Balenciaga) and Virgil Abloh of Off-White (the artistic director of Louis Vuitton Men’s) suddenly came on the scene and changed the landscape vastly. Before they appeared out of the blue, I couldn’t imagine what was to come. Before covid, tourists from China and such would walk around Harajuku dressed in only Off-White. Usually, when people wear the same brand from head to toe, they look like they’re wearing a circus costume. But with Off-White and Vetements, even fashion beginners could look cool wearing the same brand from head to toe. I felt like it was a revolution in fashion. In the 1980s, some people wore only Comme des Garçons, but it didn’t look good when a beginner did it. 

——Because you take photos of people who put outfits together using their unique taste, I assumed you didn’t like outfits like that. I’m surprised by your positive outlook. 

Aoki: Yes, I [have a] perfectly positive [outlook on it]. 

——But do you genuinely find such outfits interesting? I’m personally only half-convinced. It seems crude to don too many logos. 

Aoki: Really? The big silhouettes complemented the times. I thought the best part was how the fast fashion price tags didn’t sway them. When Martin Margiela first started, I was surprised to see that their price range was the same as Comme des Garçons. The clothes were grungy and made by a newcomer, yet the prices were the same as high fashion brands. I’m sure Demna referenced Martin’s philosophy in that regard. Demna started Vetements off with big silhouettes that looked like the extension of Maison Martin Margiela, right when he worked there as the designer (of womenswear). In other negative words, he copied the brand. But fashion enthusiasts that know a lot about the field praised and welcomed that. In the context of contemporary art, you could say it was simulationism, not copying. I think it would’ve been uncool if the prices were reasonable. Moreover, [Demna] moved fast, as seen in how the historic fashion house Balenciaga recognized him. I used to observe him with fascination.  

The possibilities of post-fast fashion seen in tourists  

——From 1985, when you founded STREET, to when you posted your declaration of discord, was how strong the fashion was the one criterion you had? 

Aoki: Yes. Virgil and Demna’s clothes have good designs, product value, and concepts. I feel like people could wear their brands from head to toe and make it work. On the other hand, you can easily pair the clothes with secondhand ones, as they’re made with that purpose. Also, I think Comme des Garçons was the first brand to put its logo on clothes. 

——You might be right. 

Aoki: Other big-name high fashion brands of the time don’t come to mind. In the 1986 STREET feature taken at Paris fashion week venues, several people are pictured with the Comme des Garçons logo on the back of their coats. It was cool. I thought it was the staff uniform, but apparently, it was their staple product. I learned about it for the first time at their store the other day. That’s why I don’t look down on clothes with logos on them. 

——But Martin Margiela, who you’ve made special STREET editions with, has the opposite stance; the brand has no logo.  

Aoki: Yes. When I made the editions with Martin, he said, “I don’t mind what the logo is as long as it’s in a Helvetica-ish font,” and that surprised me (laughs). But the thread used to sew in the tag acts as the logo. It’s the predecessor of this quality that Demna and Virgil create, where it’s like a game.  

—Come to think of it, FRUiTS started as one documentation of how the streets of Harajuku blossomed due to the influence of STREET. Similarly, with “A Declaration of Discord,” you tried to track how other Asian countries affected and changed shape in Japan.  

Aoki: Yes. I felt like the tourists’ outfits excited people. After fast fashion became trendy in Harajuku, the number of “normal people” became too high, and it became hard for people to dress in their own way. Just then, more Chinese tourists visited Japan all of a sudden. They wore outfits that Japanese people would hesitate to wear. It made people realize like, “Oh! It’s okay to dress that extreme!” They realized that people wouldn’t talk about them behind their backs. You know how Japanese people are a bit reserved? That quality also played a role in the stagnation of fashion, but [the tourists] set the standard, and the city started looking different overall. 

—So you had an inkling that exciting fashion was going to come back to life. 

Aoki: I felt it strong. I was pumped, which is why I posted that declaration. If magazines, as a medium, had the momentum they used to have, then the declaration might’ve seemed premature, but I don’t [work at] that pace now. I wanted to mark something.  

The rise of mixing different garments in the mid-90s 

——I’d like to look back and firstly ask about 1997, which is when you returned to Japan and founded FRUiTS. Could you describe the era? 

Aoki: During the 80s, Comme des Garçons and Yohji Yamamoto reigned supreme, but I still hadn’t taken street style photos in Tokyo for STREET. Back then, everyone in Japan was following the same trends; [a brand called] DC Brand was trendy, and that was it. The industry calculated that so they could make a lot of profit. I, too, wore Comme des Garçons and Yohji Yamamoto, but I didn’t want to take street style photos. Once the DC craze died down, it burned everything down with it—nothing was left. A friend of mine who’s a stylist told me it was hell then. After about a five-year gap, brands like Vivienne Westwood and Christopher Nemeth finally started becoming popular. I mean, fashion lovers existed before then, but thanks to DC waning, they stood out more. That was from 1994 to 1995. I started featuring Tokyo in STREET, and well, it’s not that interesting to look at now, but the fashion back then had a different spirit from that DC craze. People gradually began mixing brands in their outfits. Brands like 20471120 and beauty:beast came out, and Margiela opened their shops here.  

——There was a change in the air.  

Aoki: It changed abruptly around 1996. There were no trends. People mixed brands, reconstructed garments on their own, styled Japanese clothes, and so forth. Each individual had a different style. In Osaka, Takuya Angel was trending a lot. Brands that did well are Vivienne Westwood, Christopher Nemeth, Milkboy, and so on.  

——The primary influence was from London, yes? 

Aoki: Yes, yes. It all started from the influence of the streets of London. Secondhand clothes weren’t seen as fashionable in Japan, but the culture of young people buying and styling secondhand clothes in London’s Portobello and Camden markets arrived here. There was a definite moment when that type of fashion rose in popularity. But I don’t think anyone noticed this quick evolution of Harajuku’s unique fashion until FRUiTS came out. If I try hard enough, I can tell you the year and month of the turning point; that’s how apparent it was. 

——Were there any fashion icons? 

Aoki: I feel like these five-ish students from Nippon Beauty Academy, Vantan Design Institute, and Bunka Fashion College changed the landscape. The era went from kids wearing Vivienne Westwood from head to toe to mixing brand products as the key ingredient. There were a couple of kids who were geniuses at putting together outfits. Those kids hung around in Harajuku, so people would look at and observe authentic Harajuku fashion instead of magazines and the media. They would go home and incorporate what they saw. Fashion progressed through that cycle. 

——And that catalyzed for you to start FRUiTS?

Aoki: Yes. I still remember this clearly; when I was taking street style photos in Tokyo for STREET, I was struck by this pair’s style, whom I shot next to La Foret. You might not be too surprised when you see it now, but it was an outrageous outfit during then, right after the DC craze. This is the same with Margiela; those clothes are normalized now, but it was shocking when they first came out. I knew that fashion was moving tangibly, so I decided to begin FRUiTS. The following Sunday, I timidly went to the car-free zone to shoot, and the first person I spotted and approached was Aki Kobayashi-chan, who’s on the cover of the pilot issue of FRUiTS. She had such a presence about her.  

——You mean that the fashion you saw couldn’t fit into the borders of STREET.  

Aoki: Yeah. A new kind of fashion was emerging, yet nobody understood how big of a deal it was. I wanted to keep shooting on the down-low until everyone realized [how big of a deal it was]. Until magazines that copied FRUiTS came out a year after I founded it, I had it all to myself (laughs). 

 “I’m only interested in how beautiful an outfit is” 

——From that point onwards, a distinctly Japanese way of dressing was born thanks to the influence of domestic and international styles like those featured on STREET.  

Aoki: The internet didn’t exist then, and there weren’t significant trends, so people had to figure it out by themselves.  

——Hearing you talk, I get the impression that you view the scene with a critical eye by going back and forth between the inside and outside of fashion. Are you interested in looking at society through clothes, or are you interested in the clothes and styling themselves? 

Aoki: I’m only interested in how beautiful an outfit is. I believe street style is an art form, so it’s like I’m collecting artworks. Foreign media often ask me if there were grounds for FRUiTS-inspired fashion to be born, and I always answer, “Not at all. That’s why it’s good.” I assume they expect me to say something about rebelling against society. I feel like not doing so is more artistic.  

——Today, people associate FRUiTS with women’s fashion, but in 1997, you featured many men too. How did fashion trends differ between men and women? 

Aoki: This guy that used to wear Vivienne Westwood started saying, “I dress [in a] Urahara style now,” from around 1999. He was always ahead of the curve, but I was like, “Oh, I see.” If anything, I’m the one who’s being taught things.  

——You weren’t like, “Wow, that’s cool”? 

Aoki: I didn’t understand it at all (laughs). With Urahara fashion, if you don’t know the brand’s backstory, the look itself doesn’t look appealing. The same goes with the Ivy League-inspired looks of the past, but boys love that kind of stuff. To an outsider, they all look the same, and photos don’t convey the appeal. But boys switched to Urahara fashion quickly. The situation changed to one in which others would point and laugh at you if you wore Vivienne Westwood all over. Hiroshi Fujiwara-san started out as someone who wore Vivienne Westwood from head to toe, though.  

——Compared to that brand, he’s modest-looking (laughs).  

Aoki: But his influence is so huge now. He’s even influenced Virgil. I can’t seem to understand how he can be that impressive. Fujiwara-san must be a genius. 

——Did you go to stores like NOWHERE (a shop established by Nigo of A BATHING APE and Jun Takahashi of UNDERCOVER in 1993)? 

Aoki: I got the courage to visit NOWHERE two or three times. You know that they’d look at me weird if I frequented there (laughs). They incorporated the idea that Urahara shop staff were unsociable and scary into their style. It’s like adding bitterness to a dish. It’s one of the things they came up with. It’s like they don’t want people outside of the loop to visit (laughs). Once Urahara became an actual phenomenon, FRUiTS became a magazine for girls. It’s not like that was my intention, though.  

(To be continued) 

Shoichi Aoki 
Photographer and chief editor. CEO of Lens Co., Ltd. Born in 1955 in Tokyo. After having a career in programming, Shoichi Aoki published STREET in 1985. He published FRUiTS, a collection of authentic portraits of the streets of Harajuku, in 1997 and attracted a global audience. After that, he put out the men’s version of FRUiTS called TUNE and .RUBY.  Twitter：@FruitsMag
Instagram：＠fruitsmag
Instagram：@fruits_magazine_archives
Instagram：@streetmag

Photography Kazuo Yoshida

The post The evolution of 90s Tokyo street style according to Shoichi Aoki, the founder of STREET, FRUiTS, and TUNE (part I) appeared first on TOKION - Cutting edge culture and fashion information.