As a child, I designed small couture pieces for cartoon characters, each given a poetic name. It was my first glimpse of how clothing could carry a dream.
Later, fashion opened a wider world to me. I studied runway shows, explored brands, and tried on different styles, searching for a language of my own.
Minimalism then shifted my perspective on fashion. Stripping away the unnecessary made things clearer. I began to ask what truly suits me, and what is worth keeping.
With that in mind, I moved to Paris. Living there, I spent my days exploring local boutiques, trying on garments, feeling fabrics and cuts, speaking with people in stores, and observing how people dressed in daily life.
My goal was to build a capsule wardrobe of my own. Through that search, I came to understand myself more deeply.
Over time, traveling alone across Europe clarified the need to move light. That principle later defined how I lived in Tokyo, in an empty apartment with fewer, better-chosen things and a uniform way of dressing that required knowing exactly what was right.
When I began searching for that one piece, I realized how difficult simplicity is. The closer something came to ideal, the more it fell short somewhere else. Materials of uncertain origin, processes without transparency, and details that caused discomfort where there should be none.
I could not find what I was looking for.
I stepped away for a while. Walking through forests, sitting by rivers, watching ducks drift without destination, listening to waves meeting the shore. In that quiet, something settled.
That was the beginning of AURETEMPHE.