Good day, world. I just woke up here on the other end of the universe and am ready for another fantastic day.
As many of you know, I like to buy a thing or two when the work is done (even when the work is happening) and I am free to scout a city for some choice retail opps. As many of you also know, Japan is a place filled with a petitaphilia that can feel a little jarring to a more than bite sized human. Especially when you are looking for a gift for husbands and every elegant button down, every cool new silhouette, every handcrafted sock is made for much smaller men. Let's not even get started on myself. I'm not sure they've ever seen a woman with as much going on up front as I have, but needless to say, the whispered silhouettes and aforementioned elegance are probably not going to work. There's also this small thing of language barrier that has me wondering what they're saying as I pick up this or that. It's clear they're just trying to show me something, but they have a bit of an odd way of doing so. There is a pervasive submissiveness here- and I don't mean that in a disrespectful way. It's just that when you pick up an item like a handbag, what is probably happening is the sales girl is telling you to open it up and explore its features, but what's intriguing is she won't show it to you herself. K.
But small sizes and submissive sales techniques aside, you'll be happy to know there's a big winner in these proceedings, and that's my Khan man. At 10 pounds and with neither breasts nor expansive height, he will now enjoy a stellar new wardrobe, thanks to a hyper brand of dog mania that sweeps this town. I bought him a kimono (I know), some sort of Samurai sweatshirt, a watch plaid nylon raincoat, and a striped Saint James type of sweater/sweatshirt onesie in red and blue that is just so I can't handle it right now. (I'm sorry, David. I truly am. I won't expect you to ever walk him in any of the above). But as I figure out how to make some version of the insanely delicate and gorgeous food here, Khan's going to need an outfit when we invite friends over for cold udon or miso ramen or tofu done a million ways, all great. It is unfortunate that he's the only family member that benefits from the smaller lens you must use to navigate Japanese style. And by smaller, I mean only in size not scope.
I was treated to an awesome tour yesterday of two neighborhoods that reminded me of Brentwood and Amsterdam all at once. Daikanyama is about a 15 minute lovely walk from my hotel in Shibuya and feels in style (wood, glass, modern) like Southern California but is loaded with stylish shops with chic French designers. It's also home to NY's Saturdays surf shop- a super trendy thing here is that American sensibility dappled in optimism- more on that later.Naturally every store is lovely and filled with Kitsune tee shirts, midcentury furniture, and elegant dresses in my favorite neutral colors. It really is a great area- if you are ever here you will instantly fall in love with its upscale shopping but also its laid back vibe.
Next came Nakameguro, whose canal location instantly took me back to Amsterdam and warm nights of mischief on the Prinsengracht. Nakameguro is a beautiful sakura lined area (pics above- ps its not cherry blossom time but found these photos to provide the best of context) which also coincidentally had more small pups walking around than I've seen my whole time here. There were little fluffy guys all over the place, once again, a great town for a wee one like Khan to pop around and see the sights. But back to the shopping- this area has loads of little boutiques with independent designers- I saw beautiful cashmere coats with built in scarves, mens shirts made of a fabric that were somehow both thin and crisp at the same time, and oodles of amazing canvas totes and simple flat heeled boots that could take you just about anywhere. This area feels a lot like Europe to me, and I found it impossible not to go straight to Fantasy land and imagine what it would be like to live in such a beautiful place. We hung out a bit at a bar that had a Hawaiian theme and drank ice cold Kirin, then met up with the rest of our peeps for dinner at a jewel box of a resto that had delicious cold tofu and some sort of fried rice mixed with lovely raw egg. After a good amount of excellent sake, we ended up in search of a nightcap and came to a spot called The Thunderbird, a bar upstairs from a 7-11 (they are everywhere in Tokyo) that you'd miss if not for the lovely server at our resto didn't tell us about it. She also chased me for a block because I forgot my phone on the table. This really is a lovely country...oh and the light in this area in the evening is just transcendent- the stores and shops and restaurants are all somehow back lit from the street- making them whisper instead of shout. If you want shouting, there's plenty of neon to be found in Japan, but this neighborhood is more for us shhhhhhh types.
But back to the Thunderbird. One thing you must get used to if you are a gaijin from America is the fact that although smoking outside is restricted, smoking indoors at bars is very much encouraged. As we walked into this one, the smoke was thick but the vibe was so good. Think awesome rock and roll bar with Japanese people dressed sort of East Village but without the annoying hipster thing. There's a big thing happening here where men are rocking long hair and looks suited for being in a band. I love it. The find of a rock and roll bar in Tokyo is not lost on me, and though the smoke got in our eyes (in a bad way) and all of us squinted and shimmied our way over to the exit (there's about half an inch of room to move in most cool bars in Japan- bulls in china shop types be warned), I had a feeling I could most likely never emulate that amount of coolness ever again. But what I love more than anything is that even though the news of the world is beyond disturbing (terrifying really), we do, as a country still have something very special, and you see it when you come to places like this. Our pop culture is still our premium export. Almost every cool spot I've been to in Japan has been playing a combination of Motown, American rock and roll, or 50s era Kerouac channeling jazz. As I stood in smoky bars, very conscious of my otherness and outsider status, I somehow felt comfortable because there's a respect for where I come from, and it's the same stuff I respect about where I come from. The young Japanese are obsessed by American sportswear (for the boys) and are having a full on frontier moment. It's striking to me that even though we all know that very same moment is so very Brooklyn laced, it's more telling about our currency as Americans- trading in memories of a time when the road was wide open, the beer was cheap, and the possibilities endless. I'm going with that vibe for a while- and I feel grateful to Tokyo for reminding me how cool we can be as a country. But for now, I'm still fantasizing about living here. I suppose I'll have to bring a lot of clothes- because even though the clothes won't fit, the lifestyle seems just about right.
Cause that's what's up this I may not fit in the clothes but I love the style kind of Thursday in Tokyo. At least Khan fits into the couture here, that lucky bastard. Feeling very blessed to enjoy all of this and share it with all of you. Respect. XO