A one-piece dress made from fabric that feels wonderful against bare skin. The story of azumadaki, a one-of-a-kind fabric.

Do you know where and how the clothes you're wearing right now were made?

When we choose clothes, the deciding factor tends to be appearance—design, silhouette, and so on. But what if we thought about the "fabric" instead?

Fabric that has meaning because it's made in a particular place, fabric imbued with someone's passion, and above all, fabric that simply feels good to wear. This time, we bring you the story of "azumadaki," a fabric that sought new value in the world of clothing textiles.

Full of flaws by standard measures, yet full of charm. What is azumadaki?

Touch this fabric and, oddly enough, your heart feels lighter. It's plump with trapped air, soft yet with enough body to hold a silhouette. Once you wear something that wraps around your body and skin so gently, you're hooked.

That fabric is called azumadaki.

Azumadaki is created by dyeing plain, undyed fabric called kibata using an old-fashioned method that takes considerable time and effort. The result often has plenty of wrinkles and the occasional unevenness in color. These are traits that major brands, with their insistence on standardized products, would consider flaws—but within them lies a charm that mass-produced goods simply cannot match.

Wanting to learn more about azumadaki, we spoke with the people who planned and developed this fabric.

In search of fabric unlike anything found today. Visiting the azumadaki workshop

Azumadaki fabric has two parents. This time, we visited both of them—one in Higashi-Nihonbashi, Tokyo, and one in Mukojima. We spoke with them at a dye works near the Sumida River.

The people we spoke with

Mr. Otsuka: The planner behind azumadaki fabric. As a fabric wholesaler who has seen and handled countless textiles, he set out to develop his own company's fabric in pursuit of an ideal unlike anything else on the market.

Mr. Kawai: The developer of azumadaki fabric. He runs a dye works in Mukojima and has also worked on fabrics for well-known brands.

Wanting to introduce fabric unlike anything else out there, we decided not just to introduce other companies' fabrics, but to create our own from scratch. Fabric made from natural materials—soft, with a good hand feel, that would become comfortable, wearable clothing.

We visited dye works all across the country asking for cooperation, but it was hard to find anyone willing to try something new together with us. In the end, the last place we arrived at was Mr. Kawai's dye works.

I think it was partly being moved by Mr. Otsuka's passion, and partly feeling that as a dye works, we couldn't keep going on the way we were.

Major brands in particular won't handle fabric unless it meets certain standards—fabric with no unevenness in color, no neps, everything perfectly uniform. But that kind of fabric can now be made anywhere in the world, not just in Japan. Everything that comes out looks the same, all neatly uniform. I'd started to feel that if that's all we were doing, there was no point in doing it here in Japan.

I wanted to create with freedom—free ideas, free craftsmanship. Right around that time, Mr. Otsuka came to me and said he wanted to make this kind of fabric. It was a challenge, but I felt that if I kept resting on what we'd always done, that would be a problem. So I decided to take it on.

I had an image of "fabric that's soft, has good texture, and is easy to wear." But I hadn't thought through the method of how to actually create that, so I left that part to Mr. Kawai.

It ended up taking about a year. The very first batch we dyed came out looking like it had just been pulled out of the washing machine, all wrinkled up. From there, it was a repeated process—I'd visit the workshop, request corrections to whatever came up, and have them try again.

As a product line, we started with just 6 item numbers. Six years later, with variations in color and thickness, it's grown to as many as 100 item numbers.

The fabric is tumbled against itself in a small kettle, becoming soft and developing texture. That's azumadaki.

If these old-fashioned machines were to break down, apparently it would be very difficult to make the same equipment today.

I named it "azumadaki," meaning "taki-komi (simmered dyeing) done in Azuma (the East, i.e. Tokyo)." I've always wanted to find things that can only be made in a particular place, things where the making itself has meaning—and to seek out that kind of value.

江戸時代に生地を染める手法で、当時一番大きな釜であった五右衛門風呂で染めていたようです。釜に生地と染料を入れて棒でかき回して染めていたんですよ。 This is a dyeing method from the Edo period, and it seems the fabric was dyed in a goemonburo (a large iron bathtub), which was the biggest vat available at the time. The fabric and dye were placed together in the vat and stirred with a stick to dye it.

These days, production efficiency comes first, so dyeing is done in large vats. What was once considered the biggest vat available now looks incredibly small by comparison. Of course, we don't actually dye fabric in a goemonburo anymore, but we do use a fairly small vat to dye the fabric. Large manufacturers wouldn't use a vat this size. A small vat means there's naturally a limit to how much fabric can be dyed at once. While this isn't suited to mass production, I like to think of it positively—it means we can respond to detailed requests instead.

There's a unique goodness that comes precisely from dyeing in a small vat. As the pieces of fabric rub against each other and collide with the walls of the vat, the core stiffness of the fabric is released, creating an extremely soft, relaxed texture. It's no exaggeration to say that this takigomi process is what truly defines Azuma-daki. By relaxing the fabric with natural materials like lime before dyeing, the takigomi process brings out its distinctive "texture."

Before dyeing, the fabric is 150 meters wide, but by the time it's finished as Azuma-daki fabric, it has shrunk to 115 meters. This is how much the fabric is worked and shrunk—resulting in that distinctive texture, a relaxed drape, yet with a certain crispness to its softness.

I'd say it's the character it has. It has soft wrinkles, but they're never uniform, and I feel this creates a particularly wonderful expression once it's made into clothing. Since this fabric is made with such care and effort specifically to become clothing, I want to properly convey both its strengths and weaknesses, and entrust it to those who will put the same care and effort into making and selling the clothes.

The wrinkles that are characteristic of Azuma-daki fabric aren't bothersome at all once you see them as part of its character. That's probably because they're soft wrinkles, not stiff ones. They form as fine creases while the fabric holds a gentle amount of air, so much so that they feel like a necessary element for giving the fabric its three-dimensional quality and sense of movement. Looked at another way, these wrinkles hide the new creases that inevitably form from everyday movements like sitting and standing throughout the day. So compared to fabric that's crisply ironed with not a single wrinkle, this is the kind of happy wrinkle that lets you wear it comfortably all day without worrying too much.

ZUTTO Original Dress Made with Azuma-daki Fabric

At ZUTTO, we made a dress using Azuma-daki fabric.

We generously cut the bodice and used plenty of fabric so you can fully enjoy the comfortable feel of Azuma-daki.

[Azuma-daki Herringbone Linen Shirt Dress]

The Azuma-daki Herringbone Linen Shirt Dress is a front-opening linen shirt dress that can be worn across three seasons—spring, summer, and fall. The silhouette features a generously cut bodice with roomy sleeves, and the large pocket at the chest serves as an accent.

The slim cord at the waist is a key feature—cinch it to define your waist and create a flattering silhouette when worn alone. It also looks lovely worn open like a light jacket over the straight silhouette. Even those who aren't tall can try this long dress with confidence, since you can adjust the length with the waist cord. The length runs long, and while it's fine to wear on its own, it also pairs nicely with leggings or slim-fitting bottoms underneath.

[Linen × Jersey Dress]

This piece mixes different materials—Azuma-daki for the front body and stretchy cut-and-sew fabric for the back. It has a V-neck that keeps the neckline looking clean, and sleeves that come to about elbow length.

There are deep slits on both sides of the hem, so please wear it with leggings or pants. Even paired with wide-leg pants, a peek through the slits creates a stylish silhouette.

The dress comes in two colors: BLACK and MUSTARD. For MUSTARD, the back is made of khaki-colored cut-and-sew fabric, adding a playful touch of color contrast. For BLACK, both the front and back are black, giving you a color you can pair with confidence without second-guessing your outfit, while still enjoying the subtle nuance created by the difference in fabrics.

[Camisole Dress]

This is a maxi-length camisole-style dress overflowing with a relaxed feel. The seam is placed higher up to make the most of the soft, airy material.

For everyday wear around town, layer a T-shirt or tank top underneath, and when you're at a resort while traveling, feel free to enjoy it boldly on its own.

The straps have five buttonholes, making it easy to adjust the length according to your height. Since the length you'll want also depends on whether you're wearing something underneath or not, you can decide on the position based on your outfit for the day.

*This dress has no zipper or buttons for putting it on or taking it off—it's a pullover style. The chest area is not elasticized, so it may feel a bit snug when putting it on or taking it off.

Trying on the Higashi-daki dress.

It just feels so comfortable! Against bare skin it's wonderfully soft, and I love that slightly crisp texture typical of linen.

Every one of the dresses uses what's considered the standard weight of Higashi-daki (a traditional Tokyo fabric-dyeing technique) fabric, and I really appreciate that it's "not see-through, yet not too warm." You want the peace of mind of fabric that isn't see-through, but if the fabric is thick enough for that, it tends to lose its seasonal lightness and feel heavy. In that respect, this fabric strikes just the right balance, making it a piece you'll reach for again and again in summer.

Staff Interview Notes

What struck me while touring the Higashi-daki factory was the makers' deep desire to cherish and make the most of the qualities of fabric produced right here in Tokyo.

Apparently, even if you took the exact same fabric and had it dyed elsewhere in the very same way, the result would come out with a different texture and softness. It really is a one-of-a-kind fabric, shaped so heavily by the experience and instinct of the craftspeople who work in Higashi-daki, as well as by the climate of the region itself. Of course, wonderful fabrics are produced all over Japan and the world, and this isn't a matter of ranking one against another—but I came away truly feeling that the appeal of Higashi-daki is something only Higashi-daki can offer. That realization, along with the joy of being able to create a ZUTTO original dress using fabric so carefully valued by its makers, was the great takeaway from this visit. 

▼Find the ZUTTO Higashi-daki dresses here