Recently in Japanophile Category

At a faraway Japanese candyland lawn party, Pizzicato Five giggles over green tea and pink cake with the girls from Cibo Matto. Cornelius and Mellow, in their best pastel pinstriped suits, play a wicked game of croquet with the always dapper Fantastic Plastic Machine. In the background, sipping too many gin n' lychee juices, is a dude named HALFBY, or Takahiro Takahashi as he's known down the bicycle backstreets of Kyoto. Not content with the summertime tinklings and laid-back oohs and aahs elicited from his chilled out companions, HALFBY decides it's time to kick it up. "It's time to bedazzle this BBQ, fire up the bongoes, sugar the shisito peppers, and get these sake-soaked prawns dancing atop the grill!" HALFBY, you see, never forgets to bring the party.

It was the middle of November. We boarded a quiet yet crowded JAL flight to Tokyo. Too excited to sleep, we watched movie after movie in cramped coach quarters while making friends with the tailored Japanese flight attendants who worked tirelessly in perpetual smile-mode. Upon arrival, we zipped to our hotel in Ginza, dropped our stuff, and then jumped headfirst into the sea of Shibuya a few train stops away. Despite not sleeping, despite a relentless haggle for a new room that wasn't musty or dark, and despite scarfing dry backpack snacks because the hotel restaurant was closed in the middle of the afternoon, we set out excitedly not wanting to miss a single second of the glittery gray wonderland that is Tokyo.

We were soon lost, sag-eyed and incredulous, in the swarm of Shibuya crossing. Then we were fingering through selections of design books at Tower Records whispering to each other, "Why wasn't our Tower Records ever as cool as this?!" Food was found (Belgian pomme frites and beer - sure!), people watching commenced, and before too long we dreamily nodded and dozed all the way back to Ginza begging our bodies to keep us awake just a few minutes longer. We didn't want to miss a thing.

Photos by Touristique.

I want a house full of Truck.

I long for the days
Of misspent Japanese youth
Parallel dreamland

"The Little Star Dweller" by Yoshitomo Nara

Japanese art wizard, Yoshitomo Nara, opened his new show at the Marianne Boesky Gallery this past Saturday night with a colorful cacophony that reverberated from the walls right into crowd (which included the wandering and seemingly undetected artist KAWS - thanks, CBS Sunday Morning). Viewing the artwork itself--a collection of new drawings on envelopes, large-scale paintings, and two massive tannenbaum sculptures that felt like they belonged in a more sophisticated Smurf village--meant that you had to tap and rub numerous shoulders for a glimpse. With vanishing buckets of beer, a trio of toddlers in tutus, and live music provided by DJ OORUTAICHI and the hyperkinetic Japanese girl duo M.A.G.O., the energy in the various rooms exploded with a kooky rainbow fantastic-ness. Here's hoping it's even more magically raucous at his solo exhibition at the Asia Society in 2010.

I've been a fan of Nara's since discovering his artwork on the cover of Shonen Knife's 1998 album Happy Hour. Mr. H and I trekked from Harajuku to Aoyama last year just to have a bite at the A to Z Cafe, a cozy Tokyo eatery Nara designed with graf media. While I've yet to come up with the funds to afford one of his tinier drawings, I ended up receiving something to hold on to for now directly from the man himself...

More from the gallery show:

DJ OORUTAICHI conjuring some digital magic:

A to Z Cafe...ah, deliciousness!

The "home" within a home at A to Z:

Milky green tea:

Cream cake:

Interior of A to Z's "home studio":

A modern girl...
A master chef...
A culture clash...

"Begin by putting tears into your broth."

Ladies and gentlemen, here's my pick for Favorite Movie in 2009 (a prediction): The Ramen Girl starring Brittany Murphy and...ramen noodles. Need I say more?

The only video game I ever really liked:

I used to play this bad boy at the local Shakey's Pizza. There was never a line for BurgerTime like there was for Frogger or Ms. Pac Man. They even had a little step stool for shorties like me, so I could reach the joystick. I still have dreams about stacking my lettuce, cheese, and meat just right and avoiding my enemies, Mr. Hot Dog, Mr. Pickle, and Mr. Egg.

Instead of a reading chair, perhaps this vintage BurgerTime game might be a better addition to my apartment this Christmas. I can read on the couch...or on the floor. Either way, I could use a few of these in my stocking:

I have long been a fan of Milk, France's ultimate children's fashion magazine. They recently extended their publication to Japan, and the results are both inspiring and hysterical...and way better than most adult fashion magazines. Here's a look at my favorite spread. When I have a kid, I want a little Hockney...