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Happening in Harajuku

Venturing into ground zero for street fashion in Tokyo, I stroll through layers of Lolita shops and punky boutiques stocked with skull rings and striped black thigh highs. Tokyo’s Harajuku makes an impression.

Eminem blasts from one gaudy store front, while Orange Range competes with Hendrix just across the cobblestone way. The stores are stacked on top of each other, accessed by narrow straight-up staircases or grungy creaky elevators that surprisingly don’t reek of piss. The small boutiques on Takeshita Street provide intro and warm-up for the big brand stores on Omotesando. This is the training ground for the teens so that when they finally have some serious cash they'll be ready for the big time. Christmas is coming. There’s a giant tree in front of the famous Laforet department store, dripping in wind blown strands of shiny blue tinsel boas.

I can’t say that the shops here are all that different than the ones in Osaka’s Americamura. It’s basically the same fare - girly clothes, punky cloths, gothic clothes, head shops and cheap accessory shops. The only viable difference is the sheer density of these shops along a couple narrow roads. In Americamura, if one gothic Lolita shop doesn’t have exactly the hot pink corset of your dreams, you may have to walk a couple blocks to check out the inventory at the next store. Not so here – simply climb up or down a flight of stairs, or – heaven forbid – cross the street.

I guess the shoppers are different too. These kids know they are being watched. They dress in layers of cool. One ripped vest and a short skirt trimmed in fur just won’t cut it. That’s canned fashion. To stand out here you’ve got to reach a little farther – OK, a LOT farther. You must add chunky black boots with teal lacings, checkered knee high socks, two dangling gold lame purses, and a glitter scarf. Throw a jacket with bad English embroidered on the back over one shoulder and stack purple and blue eye shadow in thick wide stripes above your eyes. Sprinkle gold glitter on your cheeks and drape yourself in bulbous necklaces. Pile your hair high and twist it into a Munich replica, secured with Hello Kitty clips. Now simply add 10 more accessories and an angry scowl and baby, you’re stylin!

Pure madness.

I break with the crowds for a short while. I eat lunch with my friend at a hip black and red Yakiniku restaurant at the Jingu intersection. This place provides us with a view and a soundtrack of Coltrane played at just the right volume. We’re four floors up – high enough that the brown autumn leave ride the winds just below our plate class window, but low enough that I can still witness the drama below. On the corner opposite, the fashion magazine photographers cajole posed shots from the more beguiling street walkers. My friend and I try to guess who they will single out of the colorful hoards next. We fail each time. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to their selections.

In a moment, we’ll plunge back in – back into the cold and the crowds and the scene the whole world is watching. Youth culture ground zero – happening right now

posted by Scribbler @ Wednesday, December 07, 2005