let's get some shoes

So what has happened since my last entry? My recent battle with a 24-hour flu that quickly progressed to a lingering cold is the memory that comes to mind the fastest. I took a day off from a job that doesn't pay for sick days, and I got to wear one of those white surgical masks you've likely seen pictures of people in Japan wearing. I really felt like an idiot but Hylton insisted that people would treat me better, and it actually did work. I felt just as sick the day before I started wearing the mask, but when I had that thing on (which gave me an exotified Middle Eastern feeling) people did seem a lot more sympathetic. One of my teachers even bought me some tea and two kairo, which are those packets of chemicals that emit heat when you shake them up.




Yesterday was Thanksgiving in the States. Yesterday was Labor Day in Japan. If you could take a look at the amount of money I spent yesterday, you'd probably believe that yesterday was actually my Christmas. I will defend myself by saying much of it was necessary, as winter is actually already here by the Japanese calender. It just started getting must-procure-winter-apparel cold a few weeks ago, but I came here with as little stuff as possible, which means I am forced to learn to navigate the rough seas here.

The trip's purpose was to hit up the Costco located near Makuhari Messe, Chiba, though I was secretly in it for the promised stop in downtown Chiba. While Hylton bought the special-n-rare guitar he has been pining over the past two months, I rushed through Parco, one of the largest department stores in Chiba. Hylton, and our compatriot Marc from Florida, were in good enough spirits to not only allow but suggest stopping back in Chiba on the way home, so I also got a chance to rush through the other large and Meredith-favored department store, Sogo.

My main points of interest were coats and boots. In the course of my exactly three hours of shopping I finally discovered what I believe to be the root of the female Japanese shuffle. These past months I have been mystified by the awkward shuffle that so many Japanese girls in my age group seem to have. Now, I don't mean the tendency to take small steps (often quickly, which can produce a shuffle-looking glide), because I feel that is just how people walk and there is nothing wrong with that. What I am talking about here is the on-the-brink-of-falling-down stumble that some girls move around in. When I feel myself reaching out to catch gravity's next victim, I have to stop myself. I look at them. They look like normal girls. Perhaps often of the prissier variety, with perfectly coiffed hair and elaborate clothing layering that I, a mere mortal, will never know the secret to. But they don't look inebriated, and their pupils aren't abnormally dialated. Then I notice their shoes. Terrible, pointed, oppresive things, which no doubt already have feminist protesters in other parts of the world. This is one of those things I just don't get. I can't imagine those things being the least bit comfortable, and uhh, I don't think they often look that good either. (Please excuse me.)

But yes, sirs and madams, it's in the shoes. I was using my small time allotment (only so many hours of free parking, you know) to run around and look at all the boots I could. I don't really have the patience to go into an adequately detailed explanation of the Japanese department store configuration, but I'll just say that though there are some shoes stores, it seemed like the majority of shoes were sitting on the floor underneath racks in clothing stores. After rushing to a few of these stores, picking up possible contenders to check for size and price, I was dismayed. Shoe sizing is... small, medium and large? How can three measley sizes possibly hope to adequately outfit an entire population of shoe consuming women? ... and THEN it all fell into place.

Though I should say that, in my dramaticism, I might have obscured the fact that there are shoes with (European) sizing, I routinely see a large gap between a woman's heel and the back of her shoe. I don't know how they do this. Especially if they are a part of the chaotic rush that is the Tokyo subway system. It's like skinny pregnant women. The logistics of these things are beyond me.

To finish up this evening's shoe theme, I'll put in one last anecdote. Once I finally got up the courage to ask to try a pair of boots on (at a chic store called Lowrys Farm... man I love it), I was surprised that they just told me to go for it--- no sitting stool, no peds, nothing. I was further surprised to find that the "Large" sized boot was not quite large enough for my mammoth American clopper. I mean, I wear like a size 8, right? Anyhow, I finally found a few pairs of boots I would have been happy with, all for about 10,000 more yen than I wanted to spend, but that's the price of an actual numerical size, I guess. I ended up purchasing a pair of tall boots in what is apparently my favorite shoe color (light brown) in a size 38... which by my calculations is an American 7.5. I spent about a half hour at the small store, which was regrettably not named in nonsensical English, where the sales girl benevolently put up with my Neanderthal Japanese.

I'm hoping next Saturday isn't rainy, because I would like to debut my well-earned boots at Hylton's gig in Shibuya.