Clothses

An interesting thing about fashion in Japan is, as evidenced by the Fruits photographic collection, one can get away with wearing any combination of clothing one likes and no one will give a damn. Even older or conservative types fail to bat an eyelid when a person swans by wearing orange trainers with spotty socks, a pinstriped shirt and a brown cardigan. This is very helpful in situations where one`s laundry is in utter chaos, and all one has clean is something chequered and something striped in uncomplimentary colours. In the Home Office, one wouldn`t dare combine the two, but here, fashion is many things - it can be bling, it can be cute, it can be classic with amazingly good vintage imitations, but above all else, it is one giant and colourful fruit salad.

Whilst trancing, I spotted a young gent wearing skin-tight, stripey rainbow leggings with an orange shirt. I myself combined stripey goth with 20s accessories. I donned my newly acquired Dollflesh beaded arm-cuff - many thanks Miss Pink! - and my white stripey top with pinstripe mini, which was pinned with a vintage style skirt pin with purple-rose-in-cameo detail, my purple stripey socks and my HellCatPunks cat bag. Back in the Home Office, combining pinstripeyness with 20s beadness would have caused me great consternation, yet here, no one raises an expertly-shaved eyebrow.

Future Things

Things I plan to do this week:

• commence my visual documentation of Hiroshima after purchasing a digital camera tonight - I plan to first begin "Bars" (where I will include the Bohemian glam Rasheim`s, the ever-genki Koba and the charming "Seachange"-style FishLab, where Diver Dan would surely visit if he ever popped into town); then "Shops" - where I intend to snap local gothy and lolita shoppes, such as Angelic Pretty, Emily Temple Cute and Kera - if the staff let me, that is!
• visit FishLab to catch a local folk music gig and perhaps play darts among the fishies.
• rendezvous with Miss Kawaii and sneak off to the gimmicky Maid Cafe - a supposedly dubious eatery where the staff are dressed as Victorian maids and the decor is elegantly English; supposedly very popular with anime geeks who love animated babes. Most curious!
• finish my current books, "Japanese Things" (an aforementioned gentleman`s account of travels in Japan, dictionary-style) and "Dirty Words" (an exploration into the smutty lexicon sent to me by naughty Miss R, it lists everything from "derriere", "cupcakes" and the stomach-turning "fartleberries" - a disturbing but interesting read. Thanks Miss R!)

Labyrinthine wonderment

I will never tire of the criss-crossing alleyways and laneways of Hiroshima, neon-lit with never-ending vertical signage that advertises bar-upon-bar-upon-eatery-upon-bar. So many cafes and drinkeries are hidden away on the myriad floors of buildings, with nothing but an oft-incomprehensible sign out the front to denote its existence. It is fun to stray from the map and pick a place lucky-dip-style. On the weekend I visited the Old Retro cafe, tucked away on the 4th floor of Namikidorii and enjoyed its cosy atmos: all mismatched second-hand furniture and cute lamps in orange and wine-bottle green; a very frayed-around-the-edges vibe. I had a "bread setto" lunch for 700 yen which included two chunky sandwiches with four different salads (including a scrambled tofu salad) and a drink. Then to Primal - a hip cafe-bar - for "keki and kohi setto" for 600 yen. I had muddy chocolate cake - yum!

On Saturday I took a turn on the trancefloor at Ultimate. The place was bethronged with androgynous pretty-boy fops donning tight leather jackets and floppy-fringed hair ala His Brettness; fellow gals were few and far between. Most punters spent the evening adjusting their hair and leaning against the wall contemplating a cigarette with a haughty expression. I pranced about with another woman who proclaimed herself "hitori" (alone) and on whom I practised my alcohol-infused Nihon-go, and we were both amused to watch two dancing girls take to the stage, all a-sparkle in sequinned pink bikinis, and gloriously blonde thanks to rapunzelesque wigs, with make-up reminiscent of Kabuki actors. All the swish boys extinguished their fags and immediately clamoured around the scantily-clad dancing girls who shimmied on the stage for a good part of the evening. It was rather diverting to watch boys who looked like girls watching girls who looked like boys who looked like girls. Alack! A certain Blur song is evident here.

I was happy dancing to Astrix wearing the little black jacket that Miss Maz left behind and was seized by memories of Miss M and doofs of long ago ...

After a night of psytrance and girl-boys and vodkas, I hurtled home in the pouring rain through the maze-like night district, dodging drunk pedestrians and drunk cyclists and crawling taxis, and then along the river through parks where my poor little red racer, as well as my purple coat, were bespattered with mud. It is a fun thing to bike it home in the dark, with the river gleaming on one side and the trees all dripping with rain on the other. Joy!

Coffee and TV

Late one night I decided to flick through the multitude of channels offered by the Cable Gods, and in the gloam of 1am-television-weirdness, I stumbled upon the following:

1. A mad Japanese game show where contestants have to run amok in the snow wearing only hot pants, boylegs, knickerbockers, Y-fronts and the like. There was much blotchy skin, shivering, yowling and gnashing of teeth, whilst the hosts - all rugged up in layers of sheepskin, thermals and foil - chuckled and pointed at said blotchsome contestants, laughing at them hysterically.

2. "The Grudge" - chilling remake of Japanese horror movie and set in Japan, not to be watched while living in a Japanese house as everything in the apartment takes on a terrifying aspect: such as the deep bath-tub (where that dour little kiddie drowned), the frosted glass doors (where the evil raven-haired ghostie constantly flashes past as she prowls the corridors; flatmates rushing to the lav can also create the same effect); and that damned sliding door closet in that damned tatami-mat room - the same room that Miss Ember sleeps in every night! One cannot sleep at all properly with one`s pillow right next to *that* closet door, for fear of a blue boy bursting forth with a bloodcurdling cat`s meow, or that evil ghostie woman with the dilapidated neck - glock glock glock! Also, yanking out slimy, Rapunzeline strands of room-mates` hair from the shower-grate sends a shiver down one`s spine!*

3. "The Sexy Cats" - an adventure in Japanese soft porn (not animated), with knickers! The Sexy Cats is a tale of three women who run a cafe and their various sordid adventures with a cast of customers and the local yakuza. The Sexy Cats are:

- the housewife cat - HouseyCat is the conservative type who does all the cooking and cleaning at the cafe. Donning traditional mummsie pinafores and floral aprons that are popular on cooking shows here in Japan, one knows that at some point HouseyCat`s plain sartorial selection will indeed be torn off, somewhat in the style of a ravished librarian.
- the sour, spoilt princess cat - SnootyCat likes to sulk in her room and refuses to help HouseyCat with doing the dishes. She is notorious for strutting around the house nude, even in front of the customers downstairs.
- the schoolgirl cat - SwottyCat is the young, shy, virginal schoolgirl, wearing trad nautical school uniform with knotted red neckerchief. Everyone knows she will be raped at some point, perhaps by a monster sprouting twenty tentacles that is masquerading as an ordinary item of household furniture.

HouseyCat and SnootyCat rendezvous after hours with their customers, which of course leads to naughty SEX. As aforementioned in my previous post, no pubic hair is shown and all scenes are "mimed" sex, with lots of implied activities and the occasional topless scene thrown in for measure.

The saucy scenes are interspersed with hammy martial arts fisticuffs, including SnootyCat assaulting two rude customers in a frenzy of towel-flicking, karate-chopping and knicker-flashing. In the meantime, the local yakuza - led by a femme fatale - are trying to ruin the business of the cafe and kidnap the SwottyCat and deflower her. In their rage, Swotty, Housey and Snooty transform into pvc-clad heroines - The Sexy Cats - and finish off the yakuza in a savage attack of BIFF! ZAP! violence and martial arts prowess (with excessive knicker-flashing).

Most curious indeed!

*Note - only watch Japanese horror movies in your home country. Do not watch them in Japan, otherwise one will develop a nervous twitch whenever confronted by a tatami mat.

Naughty Things

Recently, Sgt M from Ol` Sydney Town telegraphed a titillating question about my Oriental experience so far, that is "Have you discovered the erotic cultural taboo of pubic hair yet?". This question has been unaddressed in my discomboblations thus far, and I will answer it here, and also make a note that when I devise my Japanese dictionary, ala Sir Basil Chamberlain,* I`ll file this post under "P" for "Pubes" (not to be confused with "Pubs").

Pubes in film
The filmic pube is widely spoken of, but never entirely seen, rather like Father Christmas or Peter Greenaway movies. In film - at the cinema or on the television - the pubic hair is covered by a floating dot - many-hued - but traditionally black; others are red, blue and white (as one Young One said to the other, "what is that little white dot?"). The pubic area is oft pixilated, to allow a discreet, somewhat blurry, pubic glimpse. The viewer can see breasts, and can also witness full, well-rounded bottoms, but the pube in Japanese film is a never-nether region, and is censored from view.

Pubes in literature
In the popular manga of Japan, it is difficult to pin down a pube. Most of the male and female genitalia in manga is hairless, however, when it is not, the nether-region of the page is overtly blurred out with various pixilation and hide-the-pube techniques. Pendulous, contorted Devil`s Dumplings, pert bottoms, titanic members and disturbing fluids are abundant, but the humble pube is hidden from view by the censor`s finicky hand (or dot).

Nether-regions in wildlife documentaries
The world of David Attenborough has also been rocked by a peculiar form of censorship. On cable, I watched a lovely story about the red panda. The documentary observed the female of the species, who had a panda-ling in tow, and as Mrs Panda clambered from branch to branch and turned her furry chest to the camera - six distinct pixilations became apparent on Mrs Panda`s chest, which suggested nothing other than censorship of the female`s teats! I very well choked on my udon noodles. To think that the nipples of a red panda could cause such a riot of sexual experimentation is beyond me! Or then again, perhaps they were not nipples, but The Much Maligned Hair That Shall Not Be Named.

So, dear reader, I have espied many a pubic hair in the public baths of Nihon, but none are to be found in the world of print or celluloid. The search continues.


*Japanese Things (1904) - a must read for Nihonphiles