Indigo Edo: Japanese Artistry, Symbolism and Pattern Reimagined as Wearable Art
Some collections begin with a product idea. Others begin with a color, a fragment of pattern, an image, or a visual idea that keeps pulling you back.
For me, Indigo Edo began with the patterns.
I was drawn to the extraordinary visual language found throughout Japanese art and textile traditions—the repetition, geometry, florals, contrasts, disciplined use of color, and the seemingly effortless way very different motifs can coexist within the same visual space.
That immediately connected with the way I already design for SingleTree Lane.
My work is built around layering. I enjoy taking elements that might initially appear unrelated, changing their scale, moving them around, placing one pattern against another, and continuing until I find the visual thread that makes everything belong together.
With the Indigo Edo Asian Artistry Collection, that instinct became the collection itself.
Indigo Was the Beginning
Deep indigo became my anchor.
It has an unusual versatility. Indigo can feel calm, aged and almost meditative, yet become extremely graphic when placed against ivory, black or white. Bring crimson red into the composition and the mood shifts again. Add warm tan, muted gold, turquoise and small flashes of brighter color, and suddenly the surface begins to feel collected rather than simply printed.
That was the direction I wanted.
The finished garments bring together numerous Japanese-inspired textile motifs: geometric repeats, narrow stripes, florals, wave-like forms, lattice patterns, ikat-influenced markings, small medallions and decorative borders.
But they aren't arranged as one continuous surface.
They are broken apart.
Repositioned.
Stacked vertically.
Placed into blocks.
Interrupted by another pattern.
Then connected again somewhere else on the garment.
On the Indigo Edo Kabuki Patchwork sweatshirts, for example, the front reads almost like several narrow textile panels assembled together. Crimson sits beside indigo, ivory-and-navy patterning, brown and tan, while darker patterned sleeves frame the composition.
The cropped version takes that same visual language and compresses it into a shorter silhouette without losing the complexity of the artwork.
The result is something I especially love about this collection:
It looks constructed.
Not simply printed.
The Beauty Is in the Patchwork
The patchwork idea becomes even more apparent in the bottoms.
The indigo cargo pieces are built from variations of blue—deep navy, washed indigo, charcoal blue—with carefully placed areas of crimson, tan and contrasting pattern.
From a distance, they may first register as predominantly blue pants.
Then you get closer.
Suddenly you notice that one section is geometric, another recalls a woven textile, another carries small repeating motifs, and another introduces a completely different pattern at the knee, pocket or hem.
That is exactly the kind of discovery I want in my clothing.
I don't want someone to understand the entire garment in three seconds.
I want the eye to keep moving.
The flared pieces take that concept in another direction. They combine indigo and ivory graphic patterns with tan panels, circular motifs, ornamental borders and vivid red floral sections. Because of the width and movement of the silhouette, those individual textile stories have room to reveal themselves.
When the wearer moves, the artwork changes again.
That is one of the reasons I think of fashion as a moving canvas.
Inspired by Edo-Era Art Without Recreating It
The collection draws inspiration from the richness of Japanese visual culture, including Edo-period decorative traditions, historical textile design and Kabuki imagery.
But I never wanted to reproduce a historical garment.
Nor did I want to take one existing artwork, place it on clothing and call the design finished.
For me, inspiration is the raw material.
I take things apart.
I crop them.
I enlarge them.
I change the relationship between elements.
I put a delicate floral next to a rigid geometric pattern. I place a narrow crimson textile panel beside several shades of indigo. I use an ornamental border where someone might expect a seam.
Eventually, all of those individual references become part of a new composition.
That distinction matters to me.
SingleTree Lane is not about costume.
It is about taking inspiration from the enormous visual vocabulary that art, culture and history have given us and translating it through my own contemporary design language.
The final garment still has to feel unmistakably like SingleTree Lane.
Then the Figure Changed Everything
The Kabuki-inspired figure introduced an entirely different kind of storytelling.
In the purely textile-driven pieces, pattern is the subject.
In the figurative pieces, the patterns become the environment.
The warrior imagery sits inside a layered composition surrounded by bands of indigo, crimson, floral patterns and geometric textiles. On the Happiness & Forgiveness sweatshirts, the central artwork becomes almost poster-like—a framed figure surrounded by pattern and strong graphic elements, with the kanji positioned prominently within the composition.
Rather than simply sitting on top of the patchwork, the figure feels embedded within it.
That gave the collection another emotional dimension.
The clothing was no longer only about pattern, color and texture.
There was now a character inside the story.
Happiness & Forgiveness
Two ideas became central to several of these designs:
Happiness.
Forgiveness.
I incorporated Japanese kanji representing those concepts into the artwork.
Visually, the characters are powerful. Their brushlike forms work beautifully against the structured grids, borders and repeating textile patterns surrounding them.
But I didn't choose them simply because they looked beautiful.
The meaning matters.
Happiness and forgiveness are both words we use easily, yet neither is necessarily easy to practice.
Happiness can involve deciding what we allow to occupy our attention.
Forgiveness can involve releasing something even when holding onto it feels justified.
Placed alongside a strong warrior figure, those concepts create a contradiction I find compelling.
Strength and softness.
Power and release.
Discipline and peace.
A warrior does not always have to represent aggression. Strength can also mean knowing what no longer deserves to be carried.
That contrast became one of my favorite aspects of the collection.
One Visual Language, Very Different Garments
Seeing the designs translated onto different silhouettes was another part of the creative process.
The same visual vocabulary behaves differently every time the shape of the garment changes.
On the full-length sweatshirt, long vertical textile panels create a strong architectural effect through the torso.
On the cropped sweatshirt, the proportions become more compact and energetic.
On cargo joggers, patches, pockets and construction seams divide the indigo artwork into additional sections.
On the straight cargo pants, the restrained blue patchwork gives way to carefully placed bursts of red, tan and contrasting pattern.
On the flared bottoms, long vertical panels exaggerate the movement of the legs while ornate florals, geometric motifs and circular patterns become increasingly prominent as the silhouette opens toward the floor.
Every garment gives the artwork a slightly different personality.
When Collections Begin Talking to Each Other
One of my favorite styling combinations actually reaches outside the Indigo Edo collection.
The Kabuki in Golden Seascape rash guard belongs to my Beyond Time: The Surreal Dreamscape Collection inspired by Salvador Dalí.
That collection explores surrealism through dreamlike landscapes, unexpected imagery, symbolism and richly layered wearable art. But Golden Seascape occupies a particularly interesting place within that world.
Its Kabuki-inspired figure and Asian visual themes give the piece a natural relationship with Indigo Edo, even though the two collections began from completely different artistic inspirations.
Paired with the Indigo Edo flared pants, the relationship isn't based on an exact matching print.
Instead, the garments connect through indigo tones, Japanese-inspired imagery, layered pattern work and the same love of visual abundance.
I love that kind of crossover.
My collections aren't necessarily meant to live inside separate boxes.
Sometimes a piece inspired by one artistic world unexpectedly finds a companion in another because the colors, motifs or underlying visual language speak to one another.
That is much more interesting to me than designing everything to match perfectly.
Coordination does not have to mean duplication.
I Design Coordinates, Not Uniforms
One of the things I enjoy most about creating a collection is seeing the relationships between the pieces.
You can wear the cropped Kabuki Patchwork sweatshirt with denim and make the top the entire statement.
You can take the indigo cargo pants and pair them with something completely simple.
You can combine the patchwork sweatshirt with coordinating flared pants and allow the repeated reds, indigos and neutrals to connect the two pieces.
Or you can bring in something such as Golden Seascape from another collection and create a combination that isn't technically a matching set at all—but still feels as though it belongs together.
That is very much how I like to dress and how I like to design.
I want the wearer to participate.
You decide how much pattern you want.
One piece.
Two.
Or head-to-toe artwork.
I am, of course, completely supportive of head-to-toe artwork.
Maximalism Still Needs Discipline
People sometimes think maximalism simply means adding more.
More color.
More print.
More pattern.
More everything.
But successful maximalism still requires editing.
Something has to hold the composition together.
With Indigo Edo, that structure comes primarily from color.
Indigo repeats throughout the collection. Crimson appears again and again as an accent. Ivory creates contrast. Tan and gold introduce warmth. Turquoise and muted blues bridge some of the more elaborate compositions.
Pattern scale matters too.
A dense small repeat may sit beside a large graphic panel. A narrow stripe creates a visual pause between more complicated motifs. A border establishes a stopping point before the next print begins.
I can spend a tremendous amount of time moving a single element.
A little higher.
A little narrower.
A slightly different scale.
Because when there are this many patterns involved, small changes matter.
There is a point when the composition suddenly becomes balanced.
Finding that point is part of the art for me.
Clothing for People Who Notice Things
I have never been very interested in designing clothing that disappears.
SingleTree Lane exists because I believe clothing can communicate something before we say a word.
Color changes the energy of an outfit.
Pattern creates curiosity.
Artwork invites people to look closer.
And what we wear can absolutely bring joy.
The person I imagine wearing Indigo Edo is someone who notices things.
Someone who realizes that the pattern at the bottom of a pant leg is different from the pattern at the knee.
Someone who notices that the crimson panel on a sweatshirt isn't necessarily repeated symmetrically on the opposite side.
Someone who sees the tiny geometric motifs inside what initially looked like a field of blue.
Someone who sees how a piece from an entirely different SingleTree Lane collection can suddenly belong because the colors, imagery and artistic references speak to one another.
Someone who understands that the back of a garment deserves attention too.
And probably someone who doesn't mind being stopped and asked:
“Where did you get that?”
That is my person.
A Collection That Rewards a Closer Look
Perhaps my favorite thing about Indigo Edo is that it reveals itself in stages.
Across a room, you see silhouette and color.
Come closer and you see patchwork.
Closer still and the individual textile motifs begin to separate.
Then you find the florals.
The geometry.
The waves.
The tiny repeating patterns.
The kanji.
The figure.
The borders.
The unexpected flash of crimson at a pocket or hem.
There is always something else to discover.
And that may be the most accurate description of the way I create in the first place.
I love layers.
I love color.
I love discovering relationships between things that weren't necessarily meant to be together.
Indigo Edo is my interpretation of Japanese-inspired artistry filtered through the colorful, pattern-loving world of SingleTree Lane.
A little history.
A little symbolism.
A great deal of pattern.
And clothing designed so that once someone puts it on, the artwork doesn't stay still.
Wear a piece. Build a coordinate. Become the gallery.
Explore More Culturally Inspired Wearable Art
Indigo Edo is only one expression of the global art, textiles, pattern and cultural storytelling that inspire my work at SingleTree Lane.
Continue exploring with the Asian Art Collection, where traditional and contemporary Asian-inspired imagery is transformed through color, pattern and wearable design.
Discover the Threads of India Collection, inspired by the extraordinary color, ornamentation, pattern and textile traditions associated with India.
Or explore the Africa-Inspired Wearable Art Collection, where bold pattern, expressive color and African-inspired visual storytelling become statement clothing made to be seen.
Each collection has its own story, but they share the same SingleTree Lane philosophy:
Art does not have to stay on the wall.
