To be honest, I had never really looked that closely at the uniforms worn by the former Japanese military.
 This is because I had this strange feeling that just hearing the words "Japanese" somehow made me lose interest in something.

Clothing that evokes a sense of the transition between eras, such as Japanese clothing or tonbi coats, is not often seen in today's life, and is considered a distant memory even as everyday wear.
 So perhaps I unconsciously had a preconceived notion that "Japanese things = unfamiliar things."

Having now had the opportunity to work on this former Japanese military jacket, I feel that my impression of it is gradually changing.

In terms of shape, I would say it falls more into the category of clothing, but when you look closely at the fine details of the stitching, you can sense a certain Japanese essence (although this may be a bit wishful thinking ... ).

Incidentally, the Imperial Japanese Army did not have an independent organization called the "Air Force." Instead, the Army and Navy each had their own air corps. The jacket we are looking at today belongs to the Army.

Actually, I wanted to see other Japanese-made flight jackets, so I looked for them, but I couldn't find any. However, this discovery has motivated me to dig deeper into the clothing of the former Japanese military.

Fold all down:

When it comes to the internal specifications, one thing that I'm personally always interested in is whether to use a lock stitch or a flat felled stitch.
 Although this is a part that cannot be seen when worn, it is here that the maker's intentions are surprisingly embodied.

Of course, in reality, the availability of sewing machines at the time - in other words, the constraints of "what could be used?" - were a major factor in the decision.
 But that's not all.
 I can't help but think with a more optimistic perspective that perhaps even on the inside, which can't be seen, there was a desire to make it "beautiful and durable."

Overall, it's really great that they're taking on such a difficult challenge.
 However, in terms of the beauty of the stitching, it cannot be said to be "perfect" - that impression cannot be denied.

A quick word about the sleeve attachment: it is finished with a folded hem and a hem stitch.
 Normally, in the case of folded seams or rolled seams, it is often assumed that this is simply a bulge caused by sewing and the term "isekomi" is not explicitly stated, but in this case I have deliberately written it as "isekomi."
This is because, judging from the appearance, it seemed possible that the design had been intentionally altered (however, it is difficult to judge, as there are cases where the pattern does not have any alterations due to the thickness of the fabric or the sewing habits).

Another thing worth noting is that no sergers are used at all.
 With the exception of some special processes such as buttonholes, it seems safe to say that the entire garment is made entirely with standard stitching.

By the way, there is little clear information on when overlock machines and specialized machines for lap stitching were introduced to Japan, but it is hard to imagine that such specialized equipment was widespread in domestic factories at least during the prewar and wartime periods.

front end:

This time, I would like to focus on the front, especially the details around the neckline.
 There is a lot of information that can be gleaned from just a quick look, but what we want you to pay particular attention to is the "bar fastener" at the joint where it joins the collar.

Its use is, of course, reinforcement - that's all I can say, but it has a slightly different feel to the current latches we're used to seeing.
 I was curious as to what this was, so I went around asking around at various factories that I do business with.

It turns out that there were many different types of sewing machines in the past that are different from those of today, including one called a `` bar tacking machine without a bobbin thread. ' '
 Personally, I thought this was a hand-sewn "real bar tack," but ...
 As the factory staff said, the finished product is quite neat considering it was hand-sewn, and best of all, there are no visible knots .

By the way, this jacket also uses the current machine-sewn bar tacks (which look the same as today's), so the specifications are mixed.

That being said, I find it hard to imagine going to the trouble of using different sewing machines to incorporate these specifications, so my current conclusion is that hand sewing is probably the way to go.

Spec Stamp:

The first thing you'll notice is the spec stamp, which lists the size, year of manufacture, name of the testing center, etc.
 The stamp on this particular watch is a little worn and difficult to read, but it appears to say "Made in 1944, Certified by Oshida." This means that the watch was manufactured in 1944 and the certification center was in Osaka.

The year 1944 was when the war situation began to deteriorate.
Perhaps due to this influence, it is said that a wave of simplification was sweeping over military clothing at the time.

Even just taking the material of the buttons as an example, they have switched from metal to wood, and there is a mix of other specifications such as latches and inward folds, so it is interesting to see details that are typical of a transitional period everywhere.

What's also interesting is that some of the manufacturing was done by women in rural areas who sewed at home.
 Looking at the whole picture, although the material of the buttons has certainly changed, the way they are attached is solid, and there are both machine-made and hand-sewn button taps, making it a design that really " tells the story of its times. "

Taking all of this into consideration, I think it's fair to say that this piece is truly a " well-balanced piece that evokes its background. "

Early part:

It is often said that "the stitching on wartime models is not good."
 I think this has become almost common knowledge among vintage enthusiasts.

However, even so , my honest impression was that I never expected it to be this chaotic.
 To be honest, I even found myself thinking, "Maybe I don't really like wartime models that much."

Now, as someone involved in manufacturing, I find it difficult to say that the level of sewing here is " good. "
 However, as someone who loves vintage items, this " disorder " is an element that allows me to vividly imagine the situation at the time, and in a way it is very moving.

When you actually hold the item in your hands and look at it, you can see that the stitching is not uniform at all and is quite rough overall.
 Was it sewn in a hurry? Or was there a shortage of staff and someone with poor sewing skills was in charge?
Perhaps the environment was not conducive to working in a calm and relaxed manner.

In fact, it is often said that skilled seamstresses were mobilized to manufacture military goods at that time.
 However, I still wonder if things would really get this chaotic ...

Even if that were the case, factories at the time were probably being asked to "mass produce beyond their capabilities,"
Above all, it makes me think that there must have been a special situation there during wartime, something that we cannot even imagine today.

Left side sword holder:

The left side features a beaded edge that extends all the way to the bottom.
 It may look like a pocket, but if you look at its structure, you can immediately see that it is not a pocket.

This hole is actually a slit for passing through the strap that hangs the sword.
 Rather than inserting the sword directly into the belt, the belt is passed through this hole to secure the sword firmly to the body.
 This way, the sword is less likely to swing around and get in the way when you move.
What's more, the design allows you to draw your sword even while wearing the jacket.

However , I wondered, "Was this really necessary for a flight jacket?" so I did a little research.
 There are several theories, for example :
・The design was originally for officers, but was reused in the field.
 - It was necessary to carry a military sword in situations other than flying missions.
 - This design was retained as a form of ceremonial attire.

There seem to be various theories, such as:

And this specification is quite interesting from a sewing perspective as well.
Behind the welt, that is, behind the hole, there is a piece of outer fabric and two pieces of leather in addition to the opening fabric.
One of the pieces of leather is processed first by overlapping it with the outer material, and then the inside of the opening (center side) is hammered in place to secure it in place.
Then, another piece of leather is placed on top and hammered in only the sides, resulting in a "gaping hole in the center" - a very careful and unique design.

pocket:

There are two large pockets, one on each side of the chest. At first glance they look simple, but they have a slightly unusual design.

The first thing that catches your eye is the location of the opening. Because the pocket opening is in the center (closer to the zipper), you access the left pocket with your right hand and the right pocket with your left hand.
 It may seem a little unnatural, but this is designed to make it easier to wear while wearing equipment. It is a surprisingly common feature in military wear.

But while the functionality is interesting, what really bothers me are the finer details of the specifications.
This pocket has a zipper that has been pasted on top to hide it, but when you flip open the pocket flap, you can catch a glimpse of the edge of the zipper.

What struck me here was that the end of the zipper was tightly wrapped in the outer fabric.
 The ends of zippers are not the type of place that will generally come undone, so there's no need to wrap them.
 But it's wrapped up. What is that?

This is just a guess, but "it was common practice at the time not to show the end of the zipper" - this value may have been the underlying reason, or it may simply have been an expression of the aesthetic sense of the product.
In an age where simplification is said to be on the rise, one cannot help but feel that this kind of " care " is deliberate.

What's more, there is no wasted stitching on the pockets. There are no visible seams, and they are sewn in a single, clean U-shape.
 This may seem beautiful now, but at the time it may have been an efficient way to sew on a sewing machine without a thread trimming function.

I believe that these details that allow you to sense the background are one of the great joys of vintage clothing.

Core material:

Having a stiffener in the collar - if you're involved in clothing production, you might not think that this is anything special.
 However, what I want to focus on this time is not the fact that there is a core , but what kind of core is inside.

Instead of using an adhesive interlining that is directly attached to the outer fabric, a different fabric was used, neatly sandwiched between the fabric.
 The material of this interlining is thought to be linen or cotton-linen.

Upon further investigation, we find that the core material has changed little by little over time.
Initially, hemp was used as a strong material, but gradually it was replaced by cotton and linen, as hemp was an important resource at the time and was even used for military supplies such as rope.
 It is thought that due to cost and supply issues, there has been a shift to blending it with cotton, which is cheaper and easier to distribute.

This is a different story from the core, but the cotton tape (smaller photo) sewn in for reinforcement purposes is very interesting.
 It's a plain-weave cotton material, and can be seen on the cuffs and pocket openings. This may have been to prevent the edges from curling or becoming wavy. It's also possible that it was used to reinforce the zipper for easier operation.

There are so many ingenious details hidden in places you can't see, and I think it's the accumulation of these details that makes it so interesting.

sleeve:

This photo was taken with the inner sleeve side facing up.
 If you are familiar with patterns, you might think "huh?" the moment you see it.

This is because the curve is the exact opposite of the commonly known inside of the sleeve , that is, the curve at the base of the arm.
 But I think this is clearly the intended design .

This reverse curve allows for greater range of motion in your arms, preventing the entire jacket from lifting up when you raise your arms.
 It is designed to accommodate the pilot's movements of moving their arms up and down and back and forth while holding the control stick.

In fact, similar specifications can also be seen in MA -style jackets, which will be discussed later.
 To be honest, I was quite excited when I realized this - I never imagined there would be such similarities between the Japanese military's design philosophy and the specifications of the later American military.

Of course, since the patterns themselves are different, one could say that it just happens to look that way, but even so, when comparing the peaks of the mountains - the highest point of the curve and its angle - it seems that the Japanese army was more conscious of moving diagonally forward and upward.

Coincidence or fate? The era and country may have been different, but perhaps a rational form was derived for the purpose.

Sleeve 2 :

I apologize for the slightly unclear photo, but since the parts have already been disassembled, I cannot take a new photo.
The bottom right is the front, the top left is the back, and the sleeves are " up. "

The part we want to focus on is the underside of the sleeve , also known as the kama bottom.
 If you look at the sleeves, you might notice a " tie " that looks like gathering. There is a similar tie at the sleeve cap (top).

Is this really " intended " ? That's the question.

If it were just the crinkling on the sleeve armhole, it could be interpreted to some extent as a design intention, and it is a feature that is often seen in other clothing.
However, this time, there was a similar twist under the sleeves, meaning on the lower side, which made me feel a little uncomfortable.

The armholes are sewn with a " folded seam, " so it's only natural that there will be a discrepancy in the length of the raw edges due to the difference in the curves of the sleeves and body.
 In other words, when matching the different curves of the sleeves and body, depending on how it is sewn, this " distorted " look can occur.

This is particularly noticeable in areas with sharp curves.

The seam allowance is pressed down on the body side, and there is also a stitch there .
Was this " intended " or " just the result " ? This is one of the factors that makes it even more difficult to judge.

However, I think that these variations in detail are what make it interesting to interpret the sewing of this era.

whole:

The conclusion I came to this time was:
 "Vintage Japanese clothing is also very attractive."

The " room for imagination " that can be sensed from the stitching and specifications,
 Accessories and sewing specifications change over time.
I was able to feel much of the same charm that we normally find in European and American vintage clothing.

During my research, I was helped by the knowledge of many people. One of the biggest benefits was learning about the existence of sewing machines, which do not exist today.

Regarding the physique of Japanese people, I once heard someone say, "They were small back then, so their sizes were small too."
 If that's true, it may be difficult to adapt to modern styles.

However──

"I came across it at the back of a dresser while I was cleaning out my grandparents' house."
 It's possible that we won't be able to hear such stories any more in the not-too-distant future.
When I think about it like that, I feel the urge to " dig it up " now, even if it means pushing myself a little.

You never know what you'll find down the road.
 That's why it's interesting now.

『FORMER JAPANE ARMY FLIGHT JACKET』
That's all.