It’s a completely new approach to adding strength to materials inspired by the ancient Japanese art of sashiko.

The Japanese tradition of mending clothing with sashiko stitching was a brilliant example of how a sustainable approach to clothing could actually improve the clothes at the same time. Sashiko was used to keep farmers warm, fishermen dry, and make firemen’s coats thicker. So we wanted to explore whether this stitching technique, which creates very strong repairs, could be applied to a whole garment as a way of building in durability from the very start of its lifespan. Our Sashiko Chore Jacket is soft and extremely comfortable to wear, but with 5.5km of meta-aramid fibre stitching, it’s also tough and hard-wearing at the same time.

A long, sharp sashiko needle was sometimes referred to as a ‘magic wand.’ A tool that could not only save a piece of clothing, but make it more beautiful at the same time. Grey or white stitches against an indigo blue background were the classic sashiko combination, sometimes recalling blue mountains covered in snow, or the whitecaps on The Great Wave off Kanagawa. This version swaps the indigo background for khaki, so the stitching now sits against something closer to moss than mountain.

The traditional geometric patterns of sashiko included arrows, lightning and bamboo as popular motifs. Our stitching pattern is based on the Vollebak ‘V’. The engineered embroidery follows the body contours, with the stitching denser towards the hem of the jacket, and sparser at the elbows. This maximises movement and strengthens the areas where it’s needed most.

High strength, flame-retardant aramid fibres are conventionally used to make clothing worn by military personnel, firefighters and industrial workers whose lives depend on protection against fires and electrical arcs. While we’ve used these materials to make some of our other ultra-tough clothing before, we’re pretty sure that we’re the first to reinforce a single piece of clothing with 1 million meta-aramid stitches.

We wanted to build a jacket that was as utilitarian, practical and beautiful as the idea of sashiko itself. So for inspiration we turned to chore jackets, the early workwear jackets first worn by 19th century French labourers. Chore jackets were built to last and came in a simple cut that was easy to wear all day, every day. So we used that same design as a base for our Sashiko Chore Jacket, recreating it with incredible attention to detail.

To create the jacket’s material we worked with a mill that’s been supplying Japan with exceptional materials for more than 120 years. The first chore jackets were typically dyed blue to cover dirt and stains, with the colour becoming so widely used it originated the term ‘blue collar’. So this time we’ve gone khaki, colouring our heavy-duty Japanese cotton with sulphur dye before the jackets are cut and sewn, reinforced with sashiko stitching, then washed down to give them a worn-in look from the first day you put one on.

Sulphur dye starts as a pigment that won’t dissolve in water, so it can’t simply be stirred into a bath and taken up by cotton. It’s chemically reduced first, into a temporary water-soluble form that can travel into and around the fibres. Then oxygen reverses the change, returning the dye to its insoluble state and locking the colour in. Indigo runs the same cycle but only does blue. Sulphur opens up greens, olives, browns and blacks.

Indigo sits around the outside of each cotton fibre rather than inside it, so abrasion and washing lift colour off the surface and blue breaks to white at the seams, folds and pocket edges. Sulphur-dyed khaki, locked deeper into the fibre, does something quieter. The colour shifts tonally instead, getting lighter and softer the longer you wear and wash the jacket. And as the cotton fades around it, the meta-aramid stitching gains contrast, so the sashiko pattern slowly emerges.

The jacket fastens down the middle with five buttons made of buffalo imitation bioresin – a natural, non-toxic and water-based material we’ve produced by combining plant and vegetable waste with a polyester resin used by the aerospace industry. You’ll also find a bioresin button at the end of each sleeve to fasten the cuffs.

Garbage was almost non-existent in the Edo period. They didn’t just recycle and reuse. They understood that everything had a value and that living happily and within their means was a virtue. Repair and reuse businesses were everywhere. Enterprising samurai would turn busted bamboo umbrella frames into kindling, carefully unpicking oiled parasols and turning them into special wrapping paper. ‘Geta no haire,’ or wooden clog repairers, would travel door-to-door. And if your kettle or old pot sprung a leak, an ‘ikake,’ or metal repairer, was never far away.

Clothing was the ultimate non-disposal product. Traditional kimonos were cut straight in equal proportions with no waste, so they were standardised goods – a significant point of difference with Western clothing. If Western clothes were disassembled they would be different sizes and could not be recycled in the way kimonos were – effectively making them single-use items.