Screenprinter but filmmaker by trade. I just finished writing The Edge, let’s start raising money for the movie production with a tee

I was stuck, drowning in a sea of nothingness, motivation had packed her bags and left town without so much as a goodbye note. Sitting on the couch one day, my mind wandered to heavy metal logos—the ones so jagged and complex, they’re utterly unreadable, yet strangely mesmerizing. I thought: can I take that aesthetic and make it… cute?

No, Jōhatsu is not ethical. Why? Because being respectful—of people, of the planet—shouldn’t be labeled as “ethical.” It’s not ethical, it’s common sense.
The term “ethical fashion” gets thrown around like a trendy buzzword, but it shouldn’t be a choice. It should be the standard. Are companies seriously choosing between ethics and immorality? Is it acceptable to exploit children or underpay workers? Absolutely not.

I have a love/hate relationship with social media. Jōhatsu is a side-hustle, a one-man brand releasing garments when inspiration strikes or a collaboration comes together. Between my day job and writing a movie, posting daily isn’t feasible—and honestly, I don’t want to.

Jōhatsu is a one-man brand focused on purpose, quality, and sustainability. I use a pre-order and made-to-order model instead of mass production. Everything is made in-house, and with limited space, I can’t store extra products. This approach keeps the process personal and sustainable.

In 2007, I launched Rawtee, a webzine focused on indie brands and hand-screenprinted garments. It grew into a micro label, collaborating with artists like Death in Paris and Alex CL. After a 10-year hiatus, I relaunched Rawtee as Jōhatsu in 2024, starting with a soft launch