From Tokyo’s underground clubs to the world’s fashion capitals, Atsuko Kudo—a visionary Japanese-born designer based in London—has transformed latex from a niche fetish material into a medium for self-expression and political statement. Known for her exquisite couture, made-to-measure latex creations worn by icons from Beyoncé to Rihanna, Madonna, and Lady Gaga—including Gaga’s iconic red latex gown for meeting the Queen—Atsuko Kudo talks about latex as liberation, dressing for your own pleasure, and why there’s power in being unapologetically sinful—in conversation with Sinner magazine.

Atsuko, thank you for speaking with us! We’d like to start by returning to the beginning of your career. You’ve talked about discovering latex fashion in a small Tokyo fetish shop as a design student—a moment that made you feel like a ‘superwoman’. Can you describe that first experience with latex, and what drew you to this material? What was your path from Tokyo’s underground scene to launching your brand in London?

My first encounter with latex was while studying fashion at the Vantan Design Institute in Tokyo. We had a project where everyone had to visit a designer shop, enquire about the products, and learn something new. I chose a fetish shop, which was quite unusual at the time. That’s where I discovered latex fabric and fell in love with its super-shiny, second-skin quality. When I wore it, I felt like a superwoman. I thought, if I feel like this, perhaps others will too, so I decided to design in latex from that moment.

Fetish has always been an integral part of my life. After graduating in Tokyo, I refined my craft at the London College of Fashion, where I studied corsetry. I was also “educated” in the nightclubs of Tokyo and London, which taught me a lot about how to be a designer(!).

How has working with latex shaped you personally, and what have been the most fulfilling and challenging aspects of your career?

Latex has taught me patience and discipline—you cannot rush when working with this fabric. It has also taught me to think outside the box. There is always a solution. And also it’s so important to celebrate the differences between us—we are all unique people, with different shapes and sizes. The most fulfilling moments are when someone puts on one of our pieces and looks and feels beautiful, feminine, and strong.

And when you’re not working, what brings you pleasure and joy?

I enjoy sleeping (!), watching movies and connecting with nature which is also a huge inspiration. We are lucky to have a small but beautiful garden at home. Simon (Simon Hoare—Atsuko Kudo’s husband and business partner, ed.) and I spend lots of time there. Family and friends are very important to me.

Your latest collection is Dressing for Pleasure. What does ‘pleasure’ mean to you in the context of design and self-expression? What message are you hoping to send through this collection?

For me, pleasure is permission—it’s giving yourself the freedom to feel beautiful, erotic, and powerful. Dressing for Pleasure is about self-expression in general. It’s not just about latex, even though that’s the medium I work in; it’s about choosing yourself, celebrating your own body, and using fashion as a mirror for your inner world. I want people to understand that pleasure isn’t shameful—it’s beautiful and sacred.

The idea of dressing for pleasure also suggests dressing for oneself. Today, when women’s autonomy and self-expression are still sometimes threatened, do you see your work as a form of protest or liberation? And in your opinion, is there a feminist aspect to reclaiming latex and fetishwear on your own terms?

Absolutely. There’s something deeply political in saying: “This is how I choose to be seen.” For so long, latex and fetishwear were filtered through the male gaze. Reclaiming these materials—and crafting them with care, femininity, and elegance—is, for me, an act of resistance. It’s saying that women can define their own sensuality, on their own terms. So yes, dressing for pleasure is a feminist statement because, quite obviously and simply, you are dressing for your own pleasure. This is very powerful—even more so when wearing latex.

From early collections like Restricted Love, inspired by Wong Kar-Wai’s In the Mood for Love, to today’s Dressing for Pleasure, how would you describe the evolution of your aesthetic? Has your style grown more refined, playful, or experimental over time? What inspires you today?

I think my aesthetic has always been introspective—some might say melancholy. In the beginning, it was about recontextualising latex, showing that it could be a couture fabric. I have always been inspired by emotion, memory, and even fragility. I still adore strong silhouettes and high gloss, but I’m equally drawn to softness, to quiet and subtle glamour. I’m always inspired by cinema, music, literature, life, and love—anything that stirs the heart.

Latex is a tricky material—vulnerable to tearing, staining, and time. Yet you’ve pioneered innovations like latex lace and ultra-fine garments. Are there any new techniques or ideas you’re currently exploring?

Thank you! Yes—we’re always innovating, which is part of the joy of working with such a challenging material. Right now, we’re exploring how to make latex lighter, more breathable, size-flexible, and more accepted as a fashion fabric, while still honouring its uniqueness. The techniques we develop aim to make the clothing more desirable, alluring, and sensual. In that sense, it’s like all fashion, but latex has the quality of being like a second skin, which brings an intimacy no other fabric can do.

Your work often evokes strong emotional reactions—confidence, excitement, power, sensuality. What kinds of emotional pleasures do you want your designs to evoke in those who wear them?

Empowerment, absolutely—but also tenderness. There’s a myth that latex is cold or aggressive, but when made with care, it can be the opposite. I want people to feel beautiful, desired, in control, but also held—as if the garment is protecting them like armour. Fashion should make you feel seen, to present yourself, not just something to perform for others.

Latex is often tied to fantasy, roleplay, and transformation. Do you see fantasy and play as essential parts of pleasure? How do you think your work allows people to explore different sides of themselves?

Yes—fantasy is freedom. And latex is a material of transformation. When you wear it, you’re not just dressing—you’re stepping into a different version of yourself. That transformation can be sensual, but it can also be emotional and psychological. We all contain multitudes, and latex fashion gives us the chance to express them.

You’ve worked across cultures—from Japan to the UK and globally. How do different cultures respond to fetish fashion? How have attitudes shifted toward latex and kink-inspired design across regions or generations?

Cultural context is everything. In Japan, there’s a long history of subcultures blending art, fashion, and eroticism—often in very poetic ways. I very much love many types of shunga, for example. In the UK, there’s also a deep history of fashion and subcultures—huge changes such as punk and club culture are so strong here. I’ve seen younger generations embrace latex not just as fetishwear but as fashion, gender-fluid, expressive, and freer. That shift of progress is very exciting.

We’re speaking to you from Ukraine, where many are living through the harsh realities of war. Right now, society feels very divided: some people are embracing life more intensely than ever, mixing pleasure with adrenaline, while others find it hard to give themselves permission to enjoy anything at all—they question whether pleasure has any place in a time like this. From your perspective, how does war or crisis reshape our relationship with pleasure? Do you consider bodily self-expression to be a form of cultural resistance and a way of preserving life?

Yes—we would absolutely say that bodily self-expression is a form of cultural resistance and a way of preserving life. It says, “I am still here. I still feel. I still deserve joy.” In times of crisis, pleasure becomes more profound—even defiant. Choosing beauty, expression, and sensuality in the face of destruction is not indulgent; it’s survival. Our hearts are absolutely with all of those in Ukraine. Your resilience, bravery, and creativity are incredibly moving, powerful, and inspiring.

And at the centre of it all is the fact that the war in Ukraine is one of values—of freedom. The freedom to express a different sexuality and artistry is hugely repressed in Russia, and that is one of the many freedoms Putin is trying to extinguish when he threatens and invades other countries. The fight in Ukraine is a fight for freedom from repression of all kinds. We are acutely aware of that, and we wish that the West would do more to help than is already happening.

During World War II, here in the UK, Churchill often mentioned the arts as a huge reason to inspire the fight for freedom. After the war, the UK experienced a cultural explosion and became a less conservative and much more liberal country. We hope the same will happen in Ukraine.

Japan has lived through World War II, the atomic bombings, and repeated natural disasters. How do you think these experiences have shaped Japanese counterculture and its relationship to art, fashion, and pleasure?

Yes—in Japan, we are used to this sense of danger, especially with earthquakes and tsunamis being so common. It shapes the whole culture. And as the only country to have suffered from the horror and destruction caused by nuclear weapons, we are highly sensitised to the dangers of conflict. Sometimes things are too big for individuals to change easily, but we must not give up—we must live and appreciate more. More beauty, more pleasure. That’s why Japanese counterculture is so complex. We are deeply influenced by it. Therefore, of course, my work is deeply influenced by this—the balance between what is revealed and what is hidden.

How has the historical memory of Japan’s 20th-century traumas influenced your creative work?

I’m not sure how direct it is, but I know there’s a quiet melancholy that often runs through my designs—a longing, a sense of memory. I think that comes from growing up with stories of survival and loss. Even in our most glamorous pieces, there’s always an undertone of vulnerability. That contrast is something I carry with me. It’s cultural, but it’s also personal.

You’ve created unforgettable looks—Lady Gaga’s red latex dress when meeting the Queen, Beyoncé’s stage costumes, and more. Was there a specific moment where you thought, “We’ve made it—latex couture is accepted”? How did it feel to see your work acknowledged by institutions like the V&A Museum?

Those moments are very special and quite often surreal. Seeing Lady Gaga wearing AK latex to meet the Queen—that was symbolic. It felt like a beautiful collision of tradition and subversion. And the V&A was deeply meaningful too. To have our latex designs recognised not just as costume, but as fashion and art was very emotional. In both cases, it felt like the material had transcended the stigma, and what it represents for me, the freedom to dress for pleasure, also transcended the moment.

How has your own understanding of pleasure changed over time—in your work, relationships, or daily life? What kinds of pleasure do you find in beauty, in solitude, in connection?

Pleasure used to be more external—about appearance, performance, and perfection. Now it’s about presence. I find pleasure in quietness, intimacy, in the grace of ageing. There’s beauty in softness, in imperfection, in slowing down. My designs reflect that—they’re still bold, but more personal now.

Your work often celebrates female empowerment, but how do men relate to latex and the idea of dressing for pleasure? Do you see differences in how men and women experience your designs, and can latex, by blurring traditional gender roles, allow men to explore vulnerability or challenge the social constraints around male sensuality?

Definitely. Latex can strip away conventional boundaries—gender, identity, expectation. For men, wearing latex can be liberating in a different way. It allows them to embrace sensuality, vulnerability, and even softness—things society often denies them. Again, it’s transformative, and I love seeing that evolution in our male clients.

What’s next for you and the Atsuko Kudo brand? Are there any dream collaborations or projects on the horizon, perhaps beyond fashion? What do you think of the future of latex couture?

We’re always dreaming, and yes, there are new collaborations coming soon, both within and beyond fashion. We’ve recently developed a personal lubricant called Dressing for Pleasure for lovers of latex and eroticism. We intend to expand the concept of Dressing for Pleasure as much as we can. 

As for the future of latex couture, I think the genie is out of the bottle! So we look forward to hopefully making some more magic happen!

What advice would you give to someone discovering unconventional materials or exploring subversive aesthetics?

Perseverance is everything. You have to remember there is a lot of truth in the quote that says success is achieved by one per cent inspiration and 99 per cent perspiration – attributed to Thomas Edison, who invented the light bulb. Unfortunately, it’s quite true – but if you believe in what you are doing, you have to find a way and never give up. This is important for everything in life.

Words my Amina Axmed