When nothing else subsists from the past, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered, the smell and taste of things remain poised for a long time, like souls bearing resiliently, on tiny and almost impalpable drops of their essence, the immense edifice of memory.” Marcel Proust, The Remembrance of Things Past

The scent of tatami transported me unexpectedly to traditional houses in Mexico, where woven straw mats are part of everyday life. Its fresh, clean aroma evoked a familiar connection to the earth and to nature, while at the same time carrying me somewhere far away.

This experience made me think about the way materials hold memory. A material can preserve what we believe has been lost: the land it comes from, the hands that transform it, the technique, the gestures, the sounds, and the collective memory embedded in its making. Through the senses, an object can become more than an object; it can become a vessel for memory.

This curiosity led me to investigate the material and the process behind tatami. I traveled to Kurashiki, where igusa, the grass used to make tatami, is cultivated. There, I was able to learn about the different stages of its transformation, from drying and dyeing the fiber to weaving hanagoza, the woven material later used to make tatami. Experiencing these processes firsthand allowed me to understand the material beyond its final form and to recognize the knowledge, time, and craftsmanship embedded in it.

I wanted to bring home a memory of Japan through the scent and presence of tatami, transforming it into something I could use in my everyday life. Just as tatami provides a place to sit and inhabit the home, I translated that experience into the seat of a chair.

Your Skin Chair combines a solid round-wood structure with a gently concave seat whose form evokes the fine igusafibers woven into traditional tatami mats. The chair becomes a meeting point between two memories and two cultures, carrying the sensory experience of one place into another through material, form, and use.

your skin… smells like Japan

your skin… feels like Japan

sensorial memories…