mane

Random men in Shibuya

In keeping with the moe theme of this blog, I would like to end this year with a completely shamelessly, inappropriate and vulgar medley of random Shibuya men. With 10 minutes to spare for a business meeting at Hachiko, I turned my new Canon S90 on the crowd.

The photo above is perhaps the best: the central subject fetishized, the public zipping by, and one woman in the background smiling knowingly towards the lens.

If you asked me what is my favorite Japanese uniform, I would say the mask: ubiquitous, a sign of danger inbound or outbound, of dubious functionality, and quintessentially Japanese. Above this boy rocks his mask with ipod, shaggy orange perm, and the skinny pants tucked inside some girlish boots. I am slayed.

Continue seeing and reading more after the jump.

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RIP, Farrah Fawcett

RIP, Farrah Fawcett

One of the 1970s’ brightest lights is no longer with us. This image on a small throw pillow is one of the clearest memories I have of my adolescent bedroom. The husband had the same image on a poster on his wall in Tokyo. The globe was momentarily united by this one piece bathing suit, the amazing mane which still seems to inspire Japanese men’s hair, and that blinding smile. Her death is another reminder of the importance of the HPV vaccine.