Ah, even if I had come here 20 years ago, I wouldn't have surfed...

Even though I know there's no "what if" in the past, why didn't I surf? If I had, I'd be surfing at a completely different level by now.──I returned to LA to investigate such thoughts.

I used to live in Venice Beach, California. While Abbot Kinney Boulevard is bustling now, back then it was a battleground for Black and Mexican gangs, with helicopters flying overhead every night and the sound of machine guns (not single shots) echoing. It was so intense, you could mistake it for Vietnam. Palm trees. Apocalypse Now.

There were also situations that were "post-Apocalypse Now" in a grim way, with many deranged homeless Vietnam veterans. Honestly, I felt that hasn't changed much even now.

As I'll discuss later, the surf scene is now an alternative, artistic culture. However, stepping into a typical, old-fashioned surf shop felt like entering a sports store, with merchandise for competitive surfing displayed, featuring hard, sci-fi-like logos.

Clearly, even if I had come here 20 years ago, I wouldn't have surfed given that image.
At the time, as a first change, Stüssy began releasing monochrome beachwear, and the typical fluorescent fashion was starting to shift. Yet, my friend Ray still had blond, frizzy hair with short bangs and long hair in a bouffant at the back. Surfing still had that kind of vibe.

Then, to Mollusk Surf in my old neighborhood

Apparel and boards with hand-drawn logos. The shop had a relaxed, ecological, and humorous atmosphere. Above all, it was a store that conveyed respect and history for surfing and its culture.

This shop opened around the same time I started surfing, about 10 years ago. That vibe spread worldwide through surf movies like Thomas Campbell's SEEDLING.

I am currently tailoring suits for MATTSON2, the twin duo who composed the music for SEEDLING and other films, and fitting them is one of the missions for this trip to the US.

MATTSON2

That evening, I attended their live performance. My friend Yusuke Hanai designed the flyer. I had accompanied them to local shows a few times and seen them perform in Tokyo, but in a sense, this venue and this crowd were like home (not geographically or by age, but a gathering of kindred spirits who lived in the same era and felt the same atmosphere). And these kindred spirits were a diverse group of unique and cool individuals.

It was a wonderful experience to be able to share their music, which I love so much, with their closest friends in my neighborhood, 20 years later.

During the day, I surfed with the twins in Cardiff, near their parents' home. Their music is often perceived as a type of surf music, but their surfing is more of a casual hobby. In contrast, their music is on a much higher level, and it's impossible to simply categorize it as surf music, given its content and potential.

And their collaborator, Laverb, who has never surfed, might rival Jimi Hendrix in creating music most loved by surfers. Above all, their love for music, which they approach so openly, is beautiful.

Jared, the guitarist, often wears a Bruce Springsteen badge on his chest. He says he learned from Haruki Murakami's novel that Springsteen is an excellent composer capable of writing sad songs in major keys.

They also respect Haruomi Hosono, or "Harry Hosono," and I'm imagining a tropical, dandy suit inspired by him. Their father, who surfs every day, pleaded with me to encourage his sons to take surfing more seriously, so I ended up pulling them to the beach.

The twins live in an environment where surfing is commonplace, while I surf as a somewhat frantic activity in Japan. Perhaps this was a good opportunity for them to appreciate living in a dream location? Just as I, in my past, failed to notice the important things around me.

However, surfing can also be something more intense than a club activity. The twins' approach to surfing can be described as relaxed, 'herbivorous,' and non-competitive, much like the new generation that gathers at Mollusk.

I also surfed at San Onofre, a historic surf camp. Adam, who runs a tour of San Diego's microbreweries in a large, zebra-patterned Swiss Army Jeep, joined us. He brought a variety of beers.

Most people there surf while camping, eating, drinking, and napping in tents. The average age seemed to be in their early sixties, with a few younger individuals.

At the very end of the point, there was a very mellow break called "OLD MEN POINT," aptly named. Here, 70-year-olds were paddleboarding. It's a place with many dolphins, but also near a nuclear power plant, making it as complex as life itself.

After 20 years, I realized it wasn't the world that had changed, but myself.

This meant noticing things I hadn't before, particularly the colors of buildings and the personalities of plants.

The colors of California weren't the vibrant hues or blues I imagined, but muted tones like grayish blues and yellowish, dull browns. These pale, muted colors had been there all along, even before the streets were stained with the neon colors of the '80s.

I feel that many of the boards sold at Mollusk also have such colors. Perhaps people instinctively feel colors that blend with nature, but plain white might be the most natural, and I see many people around me arriving at that conclusion.

An Indian medicine man once told me, "White people don't see the buffalo." Similarly, I believe I was looking at everything with my eyes but not with my heart. Hints for a fading era might surprisingly be found in what was once the most youthful.

To summarize my feelings about the current surf scene and West Coast youth culture,

no more macho

The dazzling neon colors and competitive surfing flourished as part of the strong American culture of the '80s under Reagan. However, around the year 2000, a sensitive, 'herbivorous,' and natural style emerged, perhaps out of a weariness with that. Especially recently, the issue of genetically modified crops seems to be a strong topic that reflects this in young people.

After 9/11, things seemed to be going wrong. American liberals and young people began to realize, 'Could America's strength be a cancer on the planet?'

And so, my journey continued to Kaifu in Tokushima, Shikoku.

I visited Kohei Chiba of 303surf for a surf camp with my surfing friends.

Kohei Chiba and my surfing friends

Mr. Chiba shaped my surfboard. As a tailor, I was influenced by the work of surfboard shapers.

Creating a three-dimensional object according to a customer's request.──I believe that a tailor, like a shaper observing someone's surfing, observes their style, self-image, and physique. By ordering a board from Mr. Chiba, I experienced the feelings and expectations of being on the customer's side, rather than the order-taker's.

Just as some people have extreme ideas about sizing or excessive self-consciousness when ordering clothes, I think I had a misconception about my own surfing ability. I requested a board that was too thin based on Mr. Chiba's suggestion, but he found a good compromise and guided me to a suitable solution. Next time, I plan to order something more appropriate for my skill level.

I believe that custom-made items, whether boards or clothes, improve not on the first try but from the second, as the first is more of a collaborative session. The finished board from Mr. Chiba was superb, and I was deeply impressed by its lightness and propulsion. Everything has its core essence, and I reflected on that. The core essence of clothing, for me, is the comfort of the shoulders, and I want to pursue that further.

Now it's my turn to tailor a suit for Mr. Chiba. I'm cutting the fabric, thinking of a design that is anonymous, beautiful, and perfectly fits a surfer's posture.

And so, the topic jumps from California to Shikoku, and now it has circled back to making clothes. Perhaps next time I'll write about my actual profession? I'll stop here, hinting at that, though the topic might jump again.