Back on Track

Dream Cloud Dragon

as a child i saw dragons in the mountain greens, moving clouds and restless ocean.
i saw the imperial dragon chase the pearl of wisdom, not knowing that it would lead me to my destiny.
to discover that jewel. to be that child again.

— Amos Kotomori

In the 1980s, Amos Kotomori emerged as one of Hawaii’s avant-garde designers, inspired by Issey Miyake, and eager to push boundaries at a time when Asian-American artists, writers and visionaries were beginning to find their voice.

His work took him to Paris, where a bundle of his batik furoshiki won him contracts with Cardin, Dior and Ted Lapidus.

And then, called home for family reasons, his fashion work stopped and he disappeared into the invisible world of behind-the-scenes styling and multimedia production for films, commercials, print advertising, live events and interior design.

Few understood this sort of career assemblage. To be honest, 30 years ago, the scaffolding of styling, art direction, event planning and production, and visual merchandising was still being built outside of fashion’s capitals, and he was learning it one level at a time. One of his first major jobs locally was to help with a wedding-themed photograph for Halekulani. "They hired me and called me a stylist, and that was the first time I heard the word," Kotomori said.

Before that, he said, "I would tell people I was a designer and they would hear it as, ‘Oh, you’re unemployed.’ You could see it in their faces. In Hawaii, there was no place for that."

As a sensitive soul, it bothered him on many levels, so he went back to school and earned his master’s degree in education, teaching when opportunities came up to have something respectable to tell people, while continuing to pursue his creative work.

And, unexpectedly, teaching a senior production class in Honolulu Community College’s fashion technology program brought him back to his first love.

"You wonder, as a teacher, who’s truly teaching who," he said. "The students are so inspiring. They have the energy, they’re creative, inquisitive and hungry to learn."

Getting caught up in their enthusiasm reawakened the dormant designer spirit within him, and new technologies allowed Kotomori to explore new methods of art-making on textiles. Now, he’s set to launch a collection of giclee-print men’s shirts at Neiman Marcus in two events Sept. 18 and 24.

His art designs were designed to circle the body, and the shirts, priced at about $285, are made with fine silk-Swiss cotton blends.

"Men have to try it on because it’s a different kind of luxury; it’s like sleeping on 800-count sheets. They’re finished with French seams, a couture technique you don’t usually see in menswear. You see it more in womenswear because they understand and appreciate it."

Because of the clean finish, he said, "I’ve seen someone put the shirt on inside out and loved it."

Beyond physical comfort, there is a spiritual quality to Kotomori’s work, inspired by Tibetan prayer flags, meditations on his life’s journey and questions about wisdom, destiny and change.

At the heart of creating the collection was his intent to send prayers and good wishes into the universe, using the Dalai Lama’s words, "My religion is kindness," as a guide.

"It’s about using kind words, kind gestures, having kind thoughts. As a teacher, I wondered, ‘How do you teach kindness to your students?’ When you look at the reality shows, they feed on negativity for commercialism, but that’s not the way to live."

The launch comes at a pivotal moment in Kotomori’s life. In June, he learned he had cancer and has been undergoing chemotherapy ever since.

He said it’s ironic that he started work on his prayer-flag designs long before hearing the news, and now finds himself on the receiving end of others’ thoughts, prayers and healing messages.

Instead of feeling sorry for himself, he said, "it was time to heal on so many levels. Maybe that’s what cancer is about. I think it says, ‘Change,’ and it was time for me to think about what I was put on Earth to do."

As a result, he said, "I’m learning so much."

What he’s learned from a career that’s zigged and zagged and come full circle, can be reassuring for those trying to navigate through life in a world that looks very different from one’s parents’ world.

He had an early lesson in adapting to "Plan B" when he went to Japan as a college student with the desire to apprentice for a batik master.

"You go there and realize how American you are when there are generations of batik masters in families and lineage is important," he said. "I realized it would be two generations before I got out of the back room mixing water."

So he returned home to forge his own destiny. "Whenever I saw an opportunity, I’d jump and see where I land."

It’s an idea foreign to many of the students he meets. He said the drive to succeed is so strong now and the competition so intense and pervasive, that it’s a struggle for young designers to stay true to their passion.

"They’re so concerned about failure, worried about how to succeed, and how to get their money back" that it can stifle creativity, said Kotomori, who became a designer by default when he was the only one bold enough to cut the fabric he designed.

He intended his graphics to be broken up and juxtaposed in odd angles and lines "to create more tension visually."

Instead, people wanted to keep the graphics intact. "They would use them as hangings, frame them, so I started getting scissors and cutting it and draping on my own."

His success showed him that it’s OK and necessary to take risks.

"Straight lines don’t work," he said. "People are going to have to think about success in another way, about what’s going to make them happy. I think that’s every parent’s wish for their child.

"I was given the middle name Sadamu, meaning ‘never failing.’ That doesn’t mean I’m not going to fail, but it means always picking yourself up, learning from your mistakes and going forward."

Kotomori’s last name, which translates as the "finest of musical instruments," reminds him to listen to the music in life. On working with textiles again, he says: "It’s like eating good ice cream with lots of fat and lots of sugar and eggs. It’s amazing."