A Look Inside a Museum-Worthy Collection of Vintage Japanese Workwear

When most people think of a vintage gem, they’ll probably picture a pair of ’60s redline Levi’s or a ’90s Stussy varsity jacket. The grails that Stephen Szczepanek (pronounced suh-PAN-eck) deals in, however, are significantly older and more esoteric. At Sri, Szczepanek’s Brooklyn showroom, many of the Japanese robes, trousers, accessories, and textiles on display were made a century ago or more, with some dating to the late 1800s.

His collection—which is heavy on boro patchwork, indigo dye, and sashiko embroidery—is the result of a decades-long passion for the everyday garments worn by farmers and laborers in pre-war Japan. Artfully faded and painstakingly mended, Szczepanek’s favorite pieces embody wabi-sabi, the Japanese concept of beauty that comes with age. “It’s a recognition that time has left its trace, and some new form of beauty has evolved from that,” he says.

Szczepanek doesn’t have much interest in fashion, but he’s nonetheless become a go-to for designers from the likes of Ralph Lauren, Visvim, and Calvin Klein in search of vintage inspo. Likewise, he sees the influence of traditional Japanese garments in the collections of some of the world’s most celebrated designers. “If you put some of these garments on, you’ll see that they don’t drape on the shoulders—they might stick out. And what you start thinking is, Oh, that’s Issey Miyake,” he says. “Or the way two subtle fabrics are joined together: Oh, that’s Yohji.” Szczepanek’s collection, which he’s built via a closely-guarded network of veteran pickers on twice-yearly trips to Japan, is always evolving, but he agreed to take us through a few of his current favorites.

19th-Century Cotton Kimono

“This kimono probably dates to the late 19th or early 20th century, and it’s shown inside-out, because that’s usually where you see most of the patching and mending. Cotton was in short supply in Japan, and regular people couldn’t really afford it, so they would buy used pieces or they would buy rags and make clothes out of them. So that’s why you see so much patching going on, because people just had to, and everybody did it all over Japan.”

1930s Boro Jacket

“This is a classic form that was worn for work, but calling it a chore coat makes it sound like you have lots of decisions, like, ‘Maybe I’ll wear this today.’ This was probably their only garment, or one of a few. It was made for work, but work and life were indistinguishable, so it would have been worn all the time.”

Yamagata Boro Vest

“This is from the Shonai region in Yamagata, and it’s totally stitched. The body of it is all stitching in a kind of diamond pattern called a masu, which is a wooden box used as a grain measure. Then that sash across the front is there because this was used by farmers to haul a sledge, and it would provide some sort of extra reinforcement against the strap that they put over their bodies.”

Shiga Jacket

“This jacket is of a type that was made in the Shiga prefecture, I believe. You can see the entire thing is stitched in very, very, very close rows and small stitches, and that was done to reinforce it. You can see that there are areas that have been worn away, and areas of mending where they were attempting to keep within the lines of the original stitching. Whenever something would break down, they would start patching and mending it, or they would take it apart and use those pieces as patches. You see all sorts of recycling done in Old Japan like that.”

Sleeveless Work Jacket

“This one is inside out, and you can see that going through it, there are tons of rows of vertical stitches, probably to reinforce it. This is a sleeveless work garment, but it may not have always been sleeveless, because sleeves and collars were taken on and off if it was hot or they wore out. They would be replaced a lot. All of these patches were put together, I suspect, not for patching holes but to create an area of cloth that could be used as a lining. It’s quite astonishing that they were able to do this in those farmhouses, which were really cold and had very little light.”

Momohiki Trousers

“These trousers are completely sashiko-stitched in layers, so they’re very thick and heavy. They’re called momohiki, which is a traditional kind of wrap-around trousers. People have said—and I’m not quite sure about this, but it would make sense—that the elaborate pattern used to make these would have something to do with zero waste, because these people were not into wasting anything. Otherwise, there’s really not much to it; it would be worn under a jacket, and it has ties in the back that would wrap around. It’s kind of indiscreet, let’s put it that way.”

Sashiko Gloves

“Judging by who I got these from, I would suspect that these were probably from the northern part of Japan, although you can never be sure. They were made in the early 20th century with leftover indigo-dyed cotton, probably hand-spun and hand-woven, with the stitching to reinforce it. What’s interesting is that white cotton thread wasn’t really that available until probably the late 19th century, but once they were able to get it, people became savvy about how to stitch and how to make these traditional patterns, and it just caught on. When you look at examples of white sashiko stitching done in patterns on blue cloth, it’s like one hand did all of it. The skill level is so high, the precision is so perfect, you can’t imagine that an entire country had these kinds of unbelievable hand skills, but they did.”

Sodenashi Vest

“This is rag-woven, and it’s an example of one of the earliest ways cotton was used for workers’ clothing. They would buy cotton as rags, then they would wash it, and then they would cut it to make thin strips that would be turned into yarn and woven into heavy duty cloth. What’s also really good about this is that it’s all indigo-dyed, probably out of hand-spun, hand-woven cotton.”