<p-initials>a<p-initials>nd i have a good feeling i’m the only one that can claim this to this day. </p-initials></p-initials>8 months since i stunted down the aisle in an all nylon set up. the wife didn’t have much ground for protest since she chose to don an off-white halston jumpsuit. (our mothers opted for matching bespoke hanboks in a stand of solidarity as traditionalists). but eunice and i decided we’d just do us til death do us part.

i have no regrets. and it’s fitting, as teatora is a brand born of that “do me” attitude. label founder daisuke kamide goes on record in an interview with norse store (note: excerpt below is re-translated from the original japanese text as the english version felt like it took some liberties):

Q: What’s most important when creating a new product. What do the customers want?

A: I don’t think about making what the customer wants. Teatora’s products are born from the stress I personally feel, the concept that I envision, design, plan and verify — I will first do on my own, processes typically delegated to a team. This is how a Teatora product is born.

I don’t consider any input from external parties during this process. Teatora’s strength is that all product development aligns on a singular concept. There are an infinite number of paths a design can go down as the idea takes shape. From a business perspective, incorporating external feedback and broadening the target audience is probably the right thing to do.

I don’t do that at Teatora. To be blunt, Teatora isn’t for anyone else. These are products made to be self-serving, driven by my obsession to be more comfortable than anyone. I do things in this way because I personally gravitate towards products that are born of a singular obsession over those run-of-the-mill products made by committee based on business decisions.

‍he says all the right things and i ain’t mad that he’s G about it. it all tracks. while i’m a fan of the concept and have kept a device jacket and a pair of office wallet pants in heavy rotation, i got some nits to pick about a number of design details. but my opinion is obsolete, this stuff wasn’t made for me. with a brand like teatora you’re not buying a product, you’re buying into one man’s obsession. you’re signing up for a ride along. make sure you don't touch nothing, just sit in the car.‍

“To be blunt, Teatora isn’t for anyone else.”

in teatora’s 7 years in existence they’ve produced 17 distinct recurring styles made in 9 separate lines differentiated by textiles of varying functional properties. but really you can boil down their collection into three basic categories: pants, jackets and coats — everything else is a variation thereof. season after season, teatora releases products that are virtually indistinguishable from one another, save for some minor tweaks. new products are rare to come by.

this focus and consistency is key to why i’m into this brand. i’m all for doing one thing and doing it well. and the japanese are the best at being the best at one thing. that’s probably why i’ve been an engineered garments loyalist. similarly, EG’s core collection is anchored between seasons and the designs are iterative, only varying in fabrics and minor tweaks. i have an aversion to damage and loss in life and living, and the fact that i have the option to replace an article of clothing gives me peace of mind.

or maybe it’s less an aversion as it is an unhealthy obsession. this explains the trunk full of alden cordovan cap-toe commando-sole boots sitting on ice. it’s my security blanket. i need to know they’re there because i know i’m bound to fuck up the pair out on rotation. and as a completionist, i especially fear wearing-out a pair of andover pants, orphaning the matching andover jacket. salt in my wounds. i sleep better knowing that EG will put out the same, if not the same a similar pair of pants that’ll make the set whole again.

teatora goes one step further and completely eliminates any fear of loss from wear and tear. one of the small joys in life is whipping the wrinkles out a garment fresh out the wash, hanging it to dry and admiring how it looks NWOT. crispy. i guess i’ve been traumatized by years of dealing with blown out crotches from chaffing. and pieces that bleed out color in the wash, taking the rest of the load with it as collateral damage.

from my experience, teatora’s garments are indestructible. i’ve battle-tested their packable series out on business trips. from hustling between back to back to back meetings, to drawn out client dinners, and the drop-in at the club that got turnt up into a rager — as long as the suit made it into the wash and i mustered enough energy to hang it to dry i was money the next day, or whenever i happened to wake up.

kamide purports to put form over function in his designs. i’d push back on the notion for a few pieces where the greed for pockets and pouches get in the way of a flattering silhouette. but what’s important is that you’ll pass the dress code in teatora. you’ll at least look like you belong. and more power to you because your pants have drawstrings. no worries, it’s also got belt loops in case you were ambitious enough to throw on a belt.‍

from my experience, teatora’s garments are indestructible.

there are racks on racks of technical brands out there, and the one issue i have with most of them is context. while i’m a fan of the utilitarian functionality of technical gear, i’m not scaling K2, nor am i headed out to a riot everyday (at least not next year, hopefully). for the most part we’re docile creatures of the city.

to categorize this teatora as “technical” would be misleading. we should actually re-evaluate what “technical” clothing even means. does it need to be adorned with cobra buckles and ballistic nylon straps? or draw inspiration from the great outdoors and it’s fetish for excessive pockets? (actually, this on might be a requisite.)

i don’t think so. we got it all wrong. and what kamide is getting at with his approach to workwear is more suitable for who we are today. is the teatora technical? yes, but only to the extent that it serves a purpose. if kamide really had it his way, you’d be stashing your laptop and tablet in every one of his concealed pockets. but whatever you decide to use those pockets for, you understand his pieces are meant to be worn to work — and meant to be put to work.

wearing nylon to my wedding was a way to put my best foot forward. and i slipped on a pair of alden madison penny in color 8 with an antique edge just to make sure no one thought i was slippin. and like all good things, it just work. it felt just right.

honestly, it wasn’t much different than the get up i’d wear on a week that i felt like dressing my age. and it’s easier to do so, because kamide’s put in the r&d work in how to look like you belong without necessarily feeling like it. once you put it on, it just works. the design melts away, not drawing attention to itself and gives way to the function. and once something works like you expect it to work, you don’t pay it no mind.

all this is to say, once we were done dressed at our loft, and after a round of obligatory staged photos out of the way, we were ready to walk over to the venue a few blocks away. the weather was threatening to break bad (it hailed for a minute before the ceremony), but all was good. we were comfortable in what we wore — and who we were. what more can you ask for?