Dear Shaded Viewers,
Koji Tatsuno’s legacy in 1990s fashion—marked by avant-garde minimalism and sculptural experimentation—has resurfaced in a poignant new context: a curated donation of his work by his daughter, Lila Tatsuno, at Paris’ Fondation Azzedine Alaïa. For those who witnessed his groundbreaking collections firsthand, this exhibition offers both nostalgia and fresh insight into a designer who defied conventions through his fusion of traditional craftsmanship and radical innovation.
Lila Tatsuno’s role in curating her father’s work bridges personal history with archival rigor. The donation, running from January 27 to February 16, 2025, features ten pivotal pieces that encapsulate Koji’s ethos. Lila, a freelance stylist and Koji’s daughter, approached the selection with an intimate understanding of his creative process. “This donation isn’t just about preserving garments—it’s about contextualizing his philosophy,” she explains. The pieces highlight his mastery of materials, from hand-sculpted nylon net dresses to origami-inspired tailoring, which redefined minimalist aesthetics in the 1990s.
Tatsuno’s work, often overshadowed by contemporaries like Yohji Yamamoto and Rei Kawakubo, was foundational in blending Japanese artisanship with European avant-garde sensibilities. His London studio became a crucible for experimentation, where he employed unconventional materials (seaweed, latex, antique kimono fabrics) and mentored a young Alexander McQueen. The exhibition underscores his role as a precursor to today’s sustainable fashion movement, repurposing textiles long before “upcycling” entered the lexicon.
Azzedine Alaïa, a fellow iconoclast, amassed one of the largest private fashion archives, making his foundation a fitting home for Tatsuno’s work. “Azzedine admired Koji’s fearlessness in challenging norms,” notes curator Sylvie Grumbach. The donation aligns with the foundation’s mission to celebrate designers who merge technical precision with artistic rebellion. Notably, the exhibition includes a copper-brown nylon net dress worn by Naomi Campbell, a testament to Tatsuno’s cult following among 1990s supermodels.
For Lila, the process involved reconciling her father’s private nature with his public impact. “He was shy yet uncompromising—his clothes spoke louder than words,” she reflects. The display avoids chronological order, instead grouping works by texture and form to emphasize his tactile approach. Highlights include a 1993 felted coat that appears weightless and a 1990s “cloud dress” of layered organza, both illustrating his obsession with three-dimensional fabrics.
The exhibition also features never-before-seen sketches and pattern drafts, revealing Tatsuno’s meticulous process. “He treated each garment as a prototype,” Lila notes, underscoring his rejection of mass production. This ethos resonates today, as designers increasingly prioritize craftsmanship over scalability.
For those who assisted in Tatsuno’s 1990s ateliers, this donation is a full-circle moment. It not only revives his contributions but also positions Lila as a custodian of fashion’s intangible heritage. As she puts it: “Fashion isn’t just about clothes—it’s about the stories they carry.” In an era hungry for authenticity, Koji Tatsuno’s work feels more vital than ever.
The exhibition “Number 2 / Koji Tatsuno: An Exhibited Donation” runs at Fondation Azzedine Alaïa (Paris) until February 16, 2025.
Best,
Diane