Besides cameras and cars, there were other things from Germany that captivated me. Specifically, Steiff toys and chenille hand towels.
Just as denim, originally born in America, came to be manufactured in Japan, I wondered if there was a place where could produce these towels, too.
That thought was the kick-off for this project.
In fact, these towels are a bit different from the ordinary kind. They are made using a very rare weaving technique known in Japan as Sai-ori (literally translated into re-weaving).
The technique originated in Europe as chenille weaving; it was introduced to Japan during the Meiji era and evolved uniquely in the Koyaguchi district of Wakayama Prefecture.
A standard towel is finished after a single weaving process. But *Sai-ori is different.
First, a fabric with horizontal stripes, composed solely of colors, is woven. This fabric is then cut into narrow strips to create individual strands of chenille yarn.
Finally, that chenille yarn is used as the weft to weave the pattern itself. In other words, the fabric is woven twice to create the final product.
That is why it is called *Sai-ori (re-weaving). I thought of making use of this technique to denim but it'd be crazy expensive for sure.
Only a few meters of fabric can be woven in a single day with this weaving style.
From the standpoint of efficiency alone, it is an incredibly extravagant production method.
It is precisely this process that creates a texture as soft as velvet. Since the patterns are formed by the colors of the threads themselves, rather than being printed on, the design appears almost identical on the reverse side. It might be more accurate to call them small woven artworks rather than mere towels. Furthermore, because they don't have the loops found in standard pile towels, there is little risk of snagging threads, making them durable and long-lasting.
There is one more reason I was drawn to this type of weaving. When the patterns are woven, they take on an aesthetic reminiscent of pixel art from retro video games.
This isn't a look that is intentionally designed from the start. It happens naturally due to the inherent constraints of the weaving process. I found that slightly unrefined, warm atmosphere utterly charming.
That said, in this day and age, it feels like one could create much finer, more accurate patterns if the digital data were prepared correctly. In fact, that was the very thought that led me to start creating a cat pattern. However, it turned out to be more challenging than I had imagined. Every time a sample arrived, the cats depicted on them often made me wonder, "Who is this cat?"
There were cats that looked sleepy, perplexed with eyes popping out, etc. I encountered so many different cat faces.
Yet, that process of trial and error is precisely what makes this weaving so interesting. It is precisely because the level of detail is reduced that a unique expression emerges.
Perhaps it is somewhat similar to why pixel art remains so beloved today. Of course, you can simply use it as a hand towel to dry your hands. But it offers so much more than that.
You might put it over your favorite Steiff toy at bedtime. Use it to wrap up your Leica camera. Or lay it out on your desk to keep your glasses.
It would bring me great joy if you used it as a cloth to gently wrap the precious things close to you.
