#marukyu

[lexiepaprika]

Get your hands on the latest items in the mail-order magazine "P! Shop"

Popteen 1999 December Issue with special edition

[thecandicrafts]

an accessory shop in shibuya 109 ☆〜

[inf-ini-tea]

[lexiepaprika]

Happy 109 day! ☆

Located across the street from Shibuya station, Shibuya 109 (or Marukyu) is the kitschy cylindrical landmark of Dogenzaka. As I emerge from the metro exit, I see it right away. It’s hard to miss. Its metallic silver panels sparkle in the morning sun. Even on a Wednesday, it’s crowded. I push through clusters of meandering tourists, gawking at the city through the lenses of iPhone cameras. Salarymen hurry across the junction in their navy suits. It’s early, but there’s a cacophony of noise: the bird-like trill of crosswalks, rumbling black taxis, J-pop coming from God knows where, and advertisements for some new Netflix anime blaring from giant monitors. 

I duck under the shade of Marukyu's entryway, passing fashionable young women wearing crimson eyeshadow and ink-black twin tails. They’re carrying shopping bags from Rojita and Ma*rs, two Marukyu-housed labels catering to Jirai Kei, a darker version of Girly Kei with subcultural roots in the edgy teens of Kabukicho. Opposite, people rush in and out of smaller alleyways, leading to more shops, cafes, and izakayas. These streets are the district’s arteries, and 109 is the heart.

Such department stores are located everywhere, but Marukyu is more than a shopping destination; it's a cultural icon. In fact, its visionary architect, Minoru Takeyama, aimed to create a “fashion community” that stood out among its contemporaries. It did not take off immediately. That’s not to say it wasn't profitable, but it didn't become the cultural touchstone it is today until the gyaru boom of the 1990s. 

This is where my own love story with Marukyu begins.

☆ read the rest here ☆

[lexiepaprika]

Yoko Morimoto during her time at Egoist.

Though she started as a kogyaru, over time, Morimoto took pride in being a "professional salesperson." Clothes sold because she wore them, so she dressed in gyaru fashion while working in the store. She wore a wig to play the part of a gyaru, but when work ended, she'd remove the wig and remove her platform boots before heading home discreetly. "I was a 'business gyaru,' I guess."