It’s true that some salarymen wear the boring and cheap clothes, and have poor hygiene. Yet some really out-do themselves in self-presentation. I love the super saturated blues of the Goyard bag and pin stripe-suit, the complementary tones of hair, tan, and shoes. Why is his tongue sticking out slightly in the above photo?
Although he looks adorable as a petulant delinquent wearing flag tennis shoes on a white sofa!
Even the Pope would be jealous if he saw these shoes!
I was impressed with these neon platform shoes, with clashing patterned tights and backpack on the platform of the JR Nakano station. Tokyo fashion inspires me to try harder.
I complain a lot about summer heat, and find myself staying indoors during the day as much as possible. Still, summer fashion and exposed skin is something I’ll miss when the weather turns cool. This image combines my fascination with shoes and calves. Nicely rolled cuffs.
It’s easy to make hideous mistakes when you are learning Japanese. Switch a vowel or add an extra syllable and you’re innocent remark has quickly turned unseemly. Here’s two examples.
A few months back, my sister-in-law, who loves shoes, was visiting. The expression on her face made it clear that what I thought was a complement had come out terribly wrong.
「けつはきれいです」 Ketsu wa kirei desu.
What I meant to say was, “I like your shoes.” 「靴はきれいです」Kutsu wa kirei desu. Unfortunately, ketsu means “ass.”
Another time, finishing ceramics class, I cheerfully told my father-in-law, 「お触りました」Osawarimashita.
What I meant to say was, “I am done.” 「終わりました」Owarimashita. Both in-laws and my husband stared at me, and I realized I did it again. Fortunately, father-in-law has a sense of humor, and demonstrated “osawarimashita” (“touch” or “grope,” made strangely formal by the addition of “o”) by pinching my ass.
As I stumble my way learning Japanese, I am fortunate to have such a welcoming (and forgiving) family.