It struck me as I carefully (and disapprovingly) examined the40th Goth French Maid "dress" I had seen on the wacky and dizzyingTakeshita Street in Tokyo.
I was no longer on the Burberry-clad, Lacoste-laden,conservative streets of Boston -- I was in a completely newuniverse, fashion-wise.
The clothes here, like most everything else Tokyo excels at, arein their own category of Extreme, separate from anything else inthe world. You could sashay down a subway platform in a magentatrash bag artfully draped over your body, with tin foil wrappedaround your boots, and no one would bat an eye.
In my opinion, New Yorkers are no longer the most jaded peopleon earth -- Tokyoites are.
Although I will openly admit to having a severe obsession withall things fashion-related, I consider myself a classicist when itcomes to what I wear on a daily basis. Hand me a polo shirt, jeans,sandals, and I'm set for life.
After one week of such dress in Tokyo, however, I began to feellike a Madison Avenue mom, and for the first time in my life, myfriends told me that I needed a good old shot in the armoire.
This brings us back to Takeshita Street -- the one place I wasconfident I could find something absolutely mind-blowing.
Takeshita Street is a narrow, supremely crowded and dense lanethat is jam-packed with clothing store after clothing store. Thereare no big names here, not even quirky labels like Dolce andGabbana or Betsey Johnson. It's all one-of-a-kind, Takeshita Streetunique.
I wasn't necessarily looking for new clothes -- I just had theurge to find a concentration of young people who could provide mehours of amusement with their wardrobes.
As the neon-striped tights and iridescent, silver bag dressesbegan to walk by, I gave myself a pat on the back and situatedmyself next to one of the stores, preparing myself for what couldpossibly be the best/worst urban runway show of my life.
Like American teenagers of the '90s, young Japanese men andwomen are smitten with the Goth look. All one needs to do to be asuccessful fashion retailer in Tokyo at the moment is find a FrenchMaid Halloween costume, rip it up in a few select places, glue onsome metal spikes, and add a racing stripe of red velour down thesides. Pair this with bright, flower-print tights andrhinestone-studded Wicked Witch of the West boots, and declareyourself a fashion icon. Or, more realistically, declare yourself"normal."
Not to be misleading -- by no means does Tokyo resemble a massof chic Marilyn Mason wannabes -- but it's a safe conclusion thatyoung Japanese people eagerly embrace this trend.
My friend Haruko, an enthusiastic proponent of everything Gothand punk, told me that, not surprisingly, this is a fashion trendthat originated from America.
Or perhaps she meant to say Canada, as the most commonly citedfashion icon for the Japanese girls I spoke with is currently AvrilLavigne.
And what about the typical young Japanese man? While the Gothand punk look has an equally devout following among the men here,it's the hip-hop look that tends to dominate. I haven't seen somany oversized American NBA jerseys since middle school.
Bandanas worn underneath trucker hats, large Ghetto Goldnecklaces, velour name brand zip-up jackets -- it's pure homage toAmerican hip-hop artists and rappers in the form of delicateimitation.
"I just love Nelly so much, you know?" said my friend Satoshi,whose neon-orange Phat Farm T-shirt and giant gold-and-pink peacesign necklace (we can't all be perfect) temporarily blinded me."All my friends, we wanna be American rapper. I want to be likeNelly, Eminem and R. Kelly," Satoshi said. "I like these clothesbecause they're so cool. Don't wanna be like regular Japanese manin the business suits."
Satoshi's concern about being thrust into the realm of drabday-to-day business suit attire is a valid one. By the timeJapanese men and women are in their 30s, it's goodbye funky, helloboring.
Though there's a similar sentiment in America that career menand women shouldn't be strutting about town in crazy outfits liketeenagers, it's much more of a shocking transition here as such amajority of the young people dress with unparalleled flair andunrivalled creativity.
A friend and I recently spent an entire afternoon in anotherpart of Tokyo, counting the number of Louis Vuitton signaturehandbags and totes spotted on the shoulders of Japanese women intheir late 20s and older.
I think the final result was that out of every 10 women whowalked past us, four would have a Louis bag. Stylish? Certainly.Exciting? Not in the slightest.
Not to be left out, however, is my personal (and everyEnglish-speaking person's) favorite fashion item: the attemptedEnglish shirt.
As previously noted, the Japanese absolutely adore anything thatappears to be "Western." Therefore, by simply adding some Englishwords to a blank T-shirt, it may quickly become the hottest item onthe sales rack.
The process in which these English words are chosen remains acomplete enigma to me. Nothing ever makes sense. Ever.
One of my American friends recently purchased a T-shirt withthis gem on it: "Don't assume what you assume because when youassume you don't assume and assume is bad."
Another friend of mine has a rainbow colored shirt adorned withsmiling faces and a cheery message of "I hate my life and it's sosorrowful to be living!"
I've asked some Japanese friends if Japanese people actuallyknow that these shirts are incorrect on so many levels, and theresounding reply has been "No."
Nevertheless, there comes a point where it's best to just sitback and enjoy the Technicolor show without analyzing and drawingconclusions from what you see.
Because, as we know, assume is bad.
