@hiroyo.destroy.matsumoto

ENTERING THE SUKEBAN UNIVERSE

“With the world we live in these days, maybe it's best to drift off into the fictional…” That's how co-founder and creative director Olympia Le-Tan describes the appeal of Sukeban, the Japanese women's wrestling league that exists somewhere between sport, fashion show, anime, and performance art. At its recent New York stop, the ring became a stage for towering characters, elaborate costumes, impossible athleticism, and unapologetic spectacle. Yet the further Sukeban leans into fantasy, the more real the women at its center seem to become: a celebration of women taking up space, expressing emotion, and embodying strength on their own terms. We spoke with Le-Tan, as well as wrestlers Nagisa Tachibana, and Atomic Banshee about world-building, transformation, beauty, freedom, and why Sukeban continues to attract audiences far beyond traditional wrestling culture.

PHOTOGRAPHY CHELSEA PALATUCCI @chelsea.foto
TEXT JESPER GUDBERGSEN @yessirjesper
PRODUCTION LA MODE EN IMAGES USA @lamodeenimages
CREATIVE PRODUCTION & COSTUMES OLYMPIA LE-TAN @olympialetan
WITH SOFT SKIN LATEX @softskinlatex DAWN MOSTOW @dawnamatrix NIKENYC @nikenyc STEPHEN JONES @stephenjonesmillinery 
HAIR DENNIS LANNI @dennisvlanni
MAKEUP RYAN BURKE @ryburk for @patstingz
NAILS NAILS BY MEI @nailsbymei
PR GIA KUAN CONSULTING @giakuanconsulting CULTURAL COUNSEL @culturalcounsel
SPECIAL THANKS ALFONSO BADILLO @vaelleys HUY VU NORA GLYNN @norraaexplora GIA KUAN @giakuanconsulting

“Wrestling has quite a specific audience nowadays but in the past, Japanese women’s professional wrestling - Joshi - had a huge audience of cool younger girls. The fighters were like today's idols. Girls had their posters in their bedrooms. That’s the spirit we want to bring back.” Olympia Le-Tan, Co-Founder and Creative Director of Sukeban

The screaming starts long before the first match.

A group of friends in front of me is waving handmade signs, declaring their dedication to the league. Three guys next to me - die-hard Sukeban fans - nervously whisper about their excitement to finally see their crushes in person tonight. Someone behind me is dressed like they've stepped out of an anime convention. Hammerstein Ballroom is filled to the brim, every seat occupied by fans, from kids that are up way past their bedtime to an admirable amount of New York it-girls - and everything in between.
There’s an immediate sense that - without question - this is the room to be in tonight.

Sukeban arrived in New York last month, carrying its own gravity. Part wrestling event, part live-action drama, part controlled chaos.
The crowd seemed to understand the assignment immediately.

Every wrestler who stepped into the ring later that night felt fully formed before the match had even begun, with fully fleshed rivalries, allegiances, costumes and personas. As the  competition unfolds, the audience were stepping into a world that already existed. A mythology that, according to co-founder Olympia Le-Tan, was always meant to be bigger than wrestling itself.

"When I joined at the beginning," she tells me, "the plan was to create something that stems from wrestling but includes all these other elements and can then bring in a different audience."

A few hours after speaking, as I was sitting ringside, that ambition feels fully realized.

Every wrestler arrives with a mythology already in motion. The audience reacts as though these characters have existed for years.

"What’s great about this project as opposed to any other fashion brand I have worked with, is that you can really go deep into the world building, actually tell the story and watch it unfold."

You can feel that unfolding throughout the night. The matches matter. The stories matter too.
You feel it in the ring, but also in the videos that play before each match. By the time the wrestlers appear, the room is already vibrating with anticipation.

One wrestler enters wearing a corset. Many appear in elaborate layers of latex madness. At one point, Krackin' Kouki launches herself from the ropes and seems suspended in mid-air for a split second before crashing back down into the ring.

Later, Le-Tan tells me that was one of her favorite moments (needless to say - it was mine too)

"I loved watching Krackin' Kouki jump off the ropes in her tutu. It looked like she was flying."

@ramkaichow

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“I think pro-wrestling has always provided a platform for women to unleash theiremotions. I hope that people everywhere will realize that Sukeban's wrestling ring is thestage for that expression.” Atomic Banshee

Fashion has long had a complicated relationship with subculture. Entire aesthetics have been borrowed, repackaged, and sold back to us countless times. In my eyes, Sukeban feels less interested in exploiting an image, from the very beginning - this felt real. The wrestlers themselves sit at the center of the project.

"We collaborate with all the wrestlers on their characters and costumes. Most of the ideas originate from elements of their real life personalities." and she adds: "It's really the wrestlers themselves that are powerful, more than the costumes."

That comment stays with me throughout the evening.
Leading up to the event, everything felt larger than life. Loud. Colorful. Almost animated. The reality of the IRL experience was all that - but it was hard to imagine just how physical and real this was going to be.
Le-Tan’s comment stays with me, because for all the attention paid to the visual language of Sukeban, the thing that lands hardest is the physicality of the wrestling. It’s the sound of bodies hitting the mat. The speed, the fearlessness to rough up their bodies with each other, the voracity for more, more, more.

Le-Tan smiles when talking about some of the costumes.

"We use a lot of latex, which has quite a distinct sound and way of moving. It's fascinating to see what the girls are able to do while wearing these costumes. Some of them have corsets and still fight like pros. I bet the men wouldn't be able to do that."

The crowd would probably agree.

“I consider style to be extremely important, and central to my performance as a wrestler and character. There are many ways to express pro-wrestling, and you see differences all around the world. Sukeban places a particular emphasis on visuals. I would even go so far as to say that incredible visuals are the very identity of Sukeban.”

- Atomic Banshee

The word sukeban is often translated as "delinquent girl." It emerged in Japan during the 1960s and 70s, when groups of young women formed street gangs and carved out space for themselves in a culture that often expected obedience, politeness, and passivity. Part rebellion, part solidarity, the movement rejected conventional ideas of how young women were supposed to behave.

When I ask about the modern day league's name, Le-Tan speaks about it matter-of-factly:
The wrestlers are tough. They're fighting in front of you. The connection felt natural.
She remembers discussing the concept with commissioner Bull Nakano, who told her she had been actually been a sukeban herself in the 1980s. 

For Le-Tan, that comment felt like confirmation. The women at the center of Sukeban carry the same instinct that gave the word its meaning in the first place. Different generations, different circumstances, the same instinct to take up space on their own terms.

Outside the venue, that history hangs lightly over the project. Inside, the focus remains firmly on the present. The crowd screaming, the wrestlers flying, their characters growing larger every time they step into the ring. Le-Tan has no interest in dialing any of it down.

"I'm never afraid of going too far."

It's one of the reasons this project works. Nobody involved seems interested in playing it safe.

@tachibananagisa_

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“I don't think we ever need to choose between strength and beauty in Sukeban - because I think strength is beautiful. Women who are strong - in every sense - are attractive.” Nagisa Tachibana

At a time when so much culture is experienced through phones, Sukeban feels built around the idea of showing up. No livestream really captures what happens when several hundred people scream at the same moment. Sukeban makes its strongest case in person.

"There is nothing like the live experience," Le-Tan tells me. "It feels so new, fresh and thrilling."

The audience pouring out onto the street afterwards seemed to agree. The venue employees looked on in disbelief, as seemingly hundreds of us gathered outside the steps, too high on the adrenaline of the show, refusing to head to the subway any time soon.

The stories won't stay inside the ring for long. Le-Tan tells me Sukeban is already expanding into manga and anime.

"It's going to be such a fun way to tell the stories."

"If someone struggles to express their emotions, I want to encourage them to be honestwith themselves and find the courage to let those feelings out. Otherwise, I simply hope fans can enjoy themselves and find it inspiring."

- Nagisa Tachibana

In July, the league heads to Anime Expo in Los Angeles. The stories are getting bigger. By then, Krackin' Kouki will still be flying through the air. The crowd will still be screaming. New rivalries will have formed and old ones will have deepened.

Somewhere between the first entrance and the final bell, I stopped feeling like an observer.

In July, I'll be back ringside.

Some worlds are easy to leave.

Sukeban isn't one of them.

@SUKEBAN_WORLD @OLYMPIALETAN