Harajuku Heroes and Charisma Men

If you happen to be male, single and seriously cannot get a date because you are boring, unattractive, uninteresting, out of shape ... I have advice to turn your bad fortunes into good. Listen carefully - because I will start charging a fee if I have to repeat this. This will change your life, especially if you have been watching endless reruns of Steven Segal movies every Saturday night on account of being socially inept.

Come to Japan.

Easy as that. I guarantee that within 2 weeks, the feeble, the ugly, the undesirable, the wholly uninteresting will change miraculously to ... Charisma Man.

The Japanese women here LOVE gaijin - foreigners for those not in the know. I have seen the most hideous men walking down the spendy and trendy bits of Japan with the most gorgeous local female on their arm.

The male gaijin constitutes a necessary accessory for any hip chick here. They do, however, come second after Louis Vuitton handbangs.

Some observations - the women here are beautiful (even the unattractive ones make the rest of us look 'passable' on a good hair day). Head to toe - decked out. Very Coco Chanel. As a well-seasoned traveller, I leave the good stuff at home. When travelling, 'good clothing' = 'clean clothing'. How I am regretting that in this city.

The foreign female can but only feel inadequate without perfectly coiffed hair, impeccable makeup and matching D&G handbag and shoes. Today, it was so cold that I had to wrap my scarf around my face and put my hood on. That did not help my already ailing 'look'. I was the image of a very strange ninja.

Traffic stopped.

Actually, I lie. I was at the traffic lights, and there just happened to be a big bus stopped there. But the people did peer out the window to gawk at the ninja-gone wrong.

Today, I explore Harajuku - home of the famous Harajuku Girls. They are my heroes. Kawaii, kooky and outright puzzling visualists of Tokyo who make the Shibuya Girls look like the rest of we commoners. The Harajuku Girls - little Bo-Peeps reincarnated, the post-Punks, the Goths, the Drag Queens, the outrageously bizarre who defy any categorization. They strike their poses - the ubiquitous two-fingered gestures, expressions of faux innocence and at times practised boredom. They are the image of anti-Japanese conservatism, a backlash against strait-laced, by-the-book order and tradition.

While they pose for the cameras today as they have done so hundreds of other times, there is the sense that even if the tourist flow dried up and the cameras were no longer flashing, they would still be here every Sunday. Self-preservation needs no adoring fans.

Just minutes away from this visual spectacle and excess is Meiji Jingu - a park smack bang in the centre of the hub. Here, tradition is in order. Processions of kimono-clad women dressed like porcelain Japanese dolls and their husbands-t0-be filter through the temple, followed by priests, female attendants in their flowing garbs, umbrella attendants and finally the 'Mods' in their suits and conservative contemporary wear pass by. When the obligatory marriage photo is taken, it is a throw-back to the past. Bled of colour, the image would be unrecognisable from one taken 50 years ago. It's beautiful, but so serious and strangely sombre. When one bride is unable to refrain from a smile and giggle, it is a momentary glimpse into the heart that the face must hold back.