Wide-leg pants can suddenly look sloppy if you get them even slightly wrong.

They have width.
They also have presence.

But that alone is not enough.

Good evening. This is Matsushima from cantáte.

 

There is a pair of trousers we have been looking forward to this season more than almost anything else.

<cantáte>

"Proper Tailored Trousers"

COL : NOIR , GREIGE

¥148,500 TAX IN

 

A decidedly wide pair made with High-Density Merino Gabardine.

The first thing I want you to look at is neither the fabric nor the sewing.

The center crease.

This single line determines almost the entire character of these pants.

The crease has not been added at the end.

Ordinary trousers have their center crease pressed in after the garment is finished.

But this time, we have not done that.

We shape the fabric before cutting, and cut it only after setting in the crease at that stage.

From there, we move on to sewing.

In other words, this is not a line added after completion to tidy up the appearance; it is a line built into the pants from the very beginning.

That is why they return to it after walking, sitting, or moving.

It is not merely folded; it feels as though the pants themselves remember that position.

 

They should be so thin and flat that you would not notice unless someone pointed it out.

 

And in fact, it is difficult to make slacks so that they can be folded neatly and thinly.

Without bulging or twisting in odd places, they settle smoothly and flat simply by aligning the front and back creases.

Slacks that fold neatly and easily into a flat, clean shape are good slacks.

This is not simply a matter of being skilled with the final ironing.

Before cutting, we carefully shape the fabric so that it settles where it is meant to.

Slacks with insufficient shaping can develop excess room toward the hem, making them look almost flared despite being wide-leg pants.

But if you are making wide-leg pants, they need to look properly wide; otherwise, there is no point.

If you ordered gyudon and oyakodon arrived instead, you would not be happy, right?

If you order a cola and oolong tea arrives, it is a problem.

The same is true of clothing.

If they are wide, they should drape cleanly as wide-leg pants.

To make that obvious quality work, the fabric needs to be shaped properly.

They are three-dimensional when worn, yet become flat when removed and folded.

At first glance, it seems obvious, but it is difficult to achieve properly.

This center crease is an extension of that idea.

We are not trying to leave only a strong line.

As a result of properly shaping the pants as a whole, the crease naturally returns to that position.

You can really understand this difference when wearing them.

Wide-leg pants contain a great deal of fabric, so their movement is also more pronounced.

That is precisely why the way it looks changes so much when a single, clear line remains within it.

Wide, yet not indistinct.

Relaxed, yet looking refined.

That balance is what we wanted this time.

Of course, a silhouette cannot stand on lines alone.

We began with the fabric in order to create this silhouette.

A 2/1 gabardine made with carefully selected merino wool for both the warp and weft.

It is woven at high density on low-speed looms.

When people hear gabardine, some may picture something sharp and slightly rigid.

But what we wanted this time was not stiffness,

Having a moderate amount of body while still draping properly.

 

There is a little spring when you touch it by hand, yet when worn, it falls downward without resisting gravity.

We are aiming for that boundary.

These pants are quite wide, so if the fabric is too soft, they simply look as though they are spreading out.

Conversely, if it is too stiff, the silhouette stands too rigidly and feels heavy.

We adjusted the pick density again and again.

It has the density needed to make this fullness look beautiful.

It would not work if it were merely heavy, nor if it were too soft.

It is an ambitious fabric that insists on both body and drape, refusing to compromise on either.

The reason for piece-dyeing it after weaving was to bring out greater depth when tailored.

Rather than laying color onto the surface, it feels as though depth has been given to the fabric itself.

The construction on the inside is also highly classical.

The extra-wide waistband stay and box pleats are secured by hand, creating a gentle, comfortable fit.

The curtain is hand-sewn.

Hand sewing does not tighten with an upper and lower thread like a machine; it is sewn with a single thread, so the seam does not become rigid and finishes softly.

We want the curtain to be finished as thinly as possible.

That is why the seam allowances are not layered; they are finished clean-cut.

 

Turned-back belt loops, tack stitching, and scissor finishing.

Once you understand the difference and the meaning behind it, you have officially joined the ranks of the true obsessives.

 

The base of the pleat is cut on a diagonal so that fingers cannot reach all the way inside.

These may seem like small details, but the shadows created in the pleats are completely different.

 

The buffalo-horn buttons are hand-sewn. The bar tacks are also secured by hand.

The split at the center back has a purpose.

And with hand-worked bar tacks, alterations are less likely to leave visible marks.

These details are designed not only for appearance, but also with long-term wear and alteration in mind.

 

A custom extra-wide waistband stay. The curtain is hand felled.

Hand pick stitching on the fly front. The belt loops are sewn with a turned-back seam.

From the outside, you can hardly see any of this.

But these details contribute to how neatly they sit when worn and how resistant they are to losing their shape, even after repeated wear.

I am not particularly interested in clothes that are impressive only where they can be seen.

More than anything, it is about how much reasoning exists in the unseen parts.

I think that is where you can see how much thought has gone into making the garment something you will wear for as long as possible.

These trousers are the same.

Nothing about the details is flashy.

But everything has a purpose.

When making these trousers, I was thinking about how to make a wide silhouette look beautiful.

"they look good because they are wide."

but rather,

Not "they are wide, yet somehow refined,"

That is where I wanted to take them.

For that purpose, we gave the fabric body, retained its drape, properly supported the shape from the inside, and finally ran a single line through it.

No, it was not the final step.

In fact, the line was there from the very beginning.

That is how central the center crease is to these trousers.

A T-shirt works as well.

They work with knitwear too.

They work with a shirt tucked in and leather shoes.

No matter how much you relax the styling, a slight sense of tension remains on the trouser side.

That is why the whole outfit does not become sloppy.

Now, I like clothes like this.

In the past, when I saw wide trousers, I would simply think, "They're wide," and leave it at that.

There was a time when being simply good-looking was enough.

But as you spend more time making clothes, you gradually start to wonder what lies beyond that.

Why does this fullness look so good?

Why is it that, even among wide-leg trousers, some have refinement and others do not?

Perhaps there is no single answer.

The fabric, the pattern, and the construction are all necessary.

But when it comes to these trousers in particular, I believe that line is the center crease.

There is a single line within the fullness.

They become three-dimensional when worn, yet settle neatly and flat when folded.

There are very few trousers left that, like these, have their inherent tendencies thoroughly eased before cutting, have the creases formed, and are then sewn with that shape as the premise.

The double-welt pockets are also made by hand.

That is why the welt does not develop stair-step ridges, and the opening does not gape even without a button.

Because they are tailored by hand, properly easing out the fabric's inherent tendencies, everything settles naturally where it should.

 

Put simply, they're an endangered species.

It takes effort, and it takes time.
What's more, most of it cannot be seen.

And yet, we do it anyway.

If you're going to make trousers that look genuinely good when worn, I don't think you can cut corners there.

If they're wide, they should look properly wide.

Folded, they settle neatly and flat.

it's about doing those ordinary things properly, as a matter of course.

I don't think trousers like that are "good trousers" simply because they are made that way;

Only then, at last, do I consider them trousers.

 

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