I've never learned to sew wetsuits, and sewing is my own style. I went to a wetsuit shop and thought about it myself. So when I ordered the dough from Sed Science, it came about a month later, so I put it in the store. Then I bought two sewing machines at once, even though I didn't sew them myself. A friend of Yokosuka said that he could sew jean bread, so when he called the store to say, "If you can sew a sewing machine, let's work together," he stares at the sewing machine and doesn't move all day long. I don't even run the sewing machine motor. It's been a day and a week, but I'm just staring at it ... I can't sew it, it's a liar.

There are two types of sewing machines for wet suits, one is a rake sewing machine that can be sewn so that the seams are stretched. The fabrics are glued together and sewn together with this sewing machine to reinforce the strength of this mating surface. It's called blind stitch in English, but I sew it so that there are no seams on the back. It seems that this wetsuit sewing machine was originally a sewing machine for sewing carpets. Therefore, sewing machines for wet suits have now been developed and put on the market. The Zero Wetsuit uses a sewing machine from an industrial sewing machine shop called Nara Sewing Machine Industry. Juki also manufactures industrial sewing machines in the same way. A sewing machine exclusively for scooping. Even if you buy a sewing machine at first, you can't sew it unless you modify it for a wet suit. The manufacturer ships it as it is, so the sewing machine shop that sells the sewing machine will remodel it. So, first I searched for a sewing machine shop that would remodel it, and ordered and bought the sewing machine there.

It was terrible at first, how did the wetsuit work? The paper pattern is also self-styled from the beginning. I don't learn from anyone, maybe I don't like to learn. Normally, I use a mannequin of a human model to raise a pattern, but I think about it all night in my head. It's sadistically fun again. But then, a three-dimensional figure emerges in my head. Besides, you can't read the movement of surfing with an upright immovable mannequin stuck in a stick. You can't make a real thing unless you actually wear a wetsuit and move around in the sea. So, at first, somebody muttered, "I can sew jean bread," so I started making wet suits. I invested 2 million yen in fabrics and sewing machines, started the rush in 1977, and started the zero wetsuit in 1988. (to be continued)