I was thinking about why 'trad' feels right.

Long time no see, everyone. It's Kai. For the past two years or so, I've been thinking about writing this, but I couldn't quite bring myself to put my thoughts out there. Now that my 'own understanding' and what 'trad' means to me have finally begun to take shape, I decided this was the perfect time. I've lifted my body, which has become physically heavier from desk work, and am now facing my iPad keyboard. (My typing has even gotten faster, I think.) First, I'd like to start by weaving words about what 'trad' means to me.

Both of my parents had experience living in Canada and the United States, and I was fortunate enough to spend my early childhood in the U.S., so 'America' was a very familiar presence to me. As a picky eater, the first things I thought were delicious besides udon and grilled fish were cheeseburgers, and my favorite food is still fried potatoes. But unexpectedly, I remember well that my experience in America actually strengthened my identity as a Japanese person. It would have been rare to find an elementary school student who would spout some nonsensical theory like, 'If you don't watch Kohaku Uta Gassen, you're not Japanese.'

After returning to Japan in the upper grades of elementary school, I attended a regular public school. I remember commuting with the red backpack I used in America because I didn't have a randoseru. It had 'Kai' written in big letters on the back. It seemed like a waste to buy a randoseru for just two years or so, and more than that, I didn't have any desire to carry one, so I finished my elementary school life without one. Thinking back, the experience of not doubting for a second the 'me as someone raised in America' that the red American backpack symbolized had a huge influence on my sense of trad. It was a great play by my teachers and parents. In addition, because of my mother's taste, almost all our tableware was Fire-King, and I often wore hand-me-downs from my father like J.Crew, Ralph, and L.L.Bean, so a life where I could faintly feel America flowed at the foundation.

When I became a university student, took off my uniform, and started to realize that 'deciding what to wear every day might be interesting,' the style I naturally became interested in was American style—in other words, American Traditional. It was so natural that I didn't even realize I liked it. I was happy to suddenly be able to understand the things around me, like learning that the wrinkled J.Crew shirt I got from my father was called a popover seersucker, or that the snowflake sweater I didn't like because it was itchy was classified as a Nordic pattern. Using those as a starting point, I deepened my knowledge.

I learned that the coat I wore in high school was called a duffel coat, and that blazers were apparently American, too. At the time, I thought I was digging into the history of clothes and deepening my learning, but looking back, I think it was just interesting that the clothes close to me were connected to 'America,' which is another one of my identities. When I ask myself, 'Why do I like this?', I can be satisfied with, 'Ah, it's because this is American.' In other words, I didn't choose trad because I liked it; rather, trad was there after I was drawn to it. This isn't anything special; it's just that as a result of pursuing my own way of being, in my case, it happened to be something named 'trad.' I think this is a feeling that everyone has.

That is why, for me, everything I was dressed in, everything I chose, and everything I have chosen so far is 'trad.' The stars and stripes sweater I was dressed in as a child, the tie from my high school uniform, the alpaca scarf from a relative's souvenir from Italy, and the sweatshirt I bought on a business trip to America. Before I knew it, they had become a small history that had quietly accumulated within me. I think that the accumulation of such small histories is my way of being—in other words, 'trad.' Trad as a way of thinking, not just a genre of style. Whether you find your way of being in 'trad' just like I do, or have layered your own identity in a completely different style, I hope that through this 'Talk about Trad,' I can provide an opportunity for you to touch upon what 'feels right' for you.

I will now begin to put into words, little by little, what 'trad' means to me—someone who is incredibly pedantic yet somehow intuitive. If you felt even the slightest something from this story, which serves as a re-introduction, let's continue to sail the sea of trad together from here on out.

Kai Hayano