Not made in Japan -- Part II -- Oversized in the Orient

Oversized in the Orient -- (or I'll take pearls any day!)

Based on my own experience I feel it would be true to say that most Western women would have a tough time shopping for clothes in Japan.

Even though I am only 5'8" tall with a curvaceous medium-frame, by Japanese standards I am large -- and I might even say oversized. Okay, let's be honest ... I felt like a giant next to my diminutive Japanese sisters. I tried not to think about it too much, but it was a challenge not to go there when everywhere I went, particularly in Tokyo, I felt like a colossal Western slob!

And never mind thinking I could go clothes shopping to alleviate my angst. I have curves, baby! Where are you going to buy clothes for a body like mine in Japan?

I am reminded of a time, many years ago, when my youthful measurements were a tidy 34-24-37 and I was engaged to be married to a Chinese man. We were living in England at the time, and to satisfy both Western and Eastern cultures we had decided to have a white wedding in a church and then a reception in a fancy Chinese restaurant in London's Soho district. For the reception it was decided I would wear a Chinese red silk dress.

Well, my mother and I went shopping downtown and naturally we had to visit shops that specialized in Chinese garments so that I could get something authentic. The problem was that authentic didn't fit! I don't recall just how many stores we went to but I can tell you that not a single dress I tried on would fit around my curves. Even with my frame as lean as it was at the time my body was just too curvy. This distressed me very much, but in the end it didn't matter. I ended up fleeing for Canada on our wedding day. Call me the runaway bride, I guess, but the red dress actually turned out to be a symbolic way of telling me that my fiance and I just didn't fit! (And we really didn't, but that's another story.)

So, back to present day Japan and my travel wardrobe frustrations.

I didn't even bother looking for clothes to remedy my pathetic packing job. Normally while I'm on vacation I'll at least pick through a rack or two to see if I can find a little something (I enjoyed much success in Argentina). But this time there was just no point. I would just have to live in my black jeans, paddock boots and sundry tops for two sultry, sweaty weeks. So as we walked through the bustling Ginza district with its Western-inspired boutiques and department stores, I averted my eyes and focused on the purchase of something I knew I could wear quite comfortably, thank you very much, -- pearls!

Yes, we went pearl shopping in the Ginza -- window-shopped at the outrageously expensive Mikimoto and made a purchase at the more reasonable but no less fabulous, Tasaki. The girls and I, accompanied by our wary husbands, browsed the display cases with their array of shiny pearls and glittering diamonds and daydreamed about what we might actually end up taking home with us. It was pretty clear from the outset, for Jo and I at least, that we wanted a single black pearl, and we deliberated a long time over which of the four or five choices we just couldn't live without.

Jo selected a single black pearl on a gold chain; I went for something a little more elaborate -- a black pearl at the end of a gold stem with a diamond at the top, also hooked on a gold chain. Both pieces were exquisite. (Jo wore hers every evening at dinner for the rest of the trip. I won't see mine until my birthday in December.)

Our friend Sarah ruminated over a selection of gold-coloured pearls, and since her husband was at a business meeting and missing out on all the fun we took a photo of her wearing her pearls of choice so she could show him later while pleading her case (she ended up buying the pearls a week later.)

The girls and I had a lovely time shopping for our pieces of Japanese treasure -- our special momentos of a trip to the Orient. And I rather think the men enjoyed the experience too. (Their eyes were lit up the entire time, however, that could have been because of the price tag on those precious ocean gems.) Regardless, I'm pretty sure that in the end they saw the long-term value of investing in such exquisite pieces of jewelry ... especially since there would be no money spent on clothes!

Next time ... Not Made in Japan -- Part 3 -- My Kingdom for a Horse

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Not Made in Japan -- Part I

If there is such a thing as reincarnation I can say with absolute certainty that I did not, at any time, spend another life in Japan.

Now, don’t get me wrong -- my recent two-week excursion to the beautiful land of cherry blossoms and shabu shabu was most enjoyable and creatively inspiring. It coloured my thoughts and fed my imagination plenty. But I can honestly say I had no sense of belonging the entire time I was there. And there are good reasons ... funny reasons ... but you'll need to read on to find out. ;-)

In the next few blogs I’ll share a personal journey (from September 25 to October 10, 2010) that took my partner Lloyd and I to Tokyo, Hakone (Mt. Fuji), Hiroshima and Kyoto. It won’t be a travelog, but more like summary stories of occasions and experiences that left an indelible impression and tickled my funny bone during those two amazing weeks.

So, let’s get started ...

First, why a trip to Japan?

Lloyd participates in an international study group which meets twice a year in different parts of the world represented by the members of the group. Since 2008, when Lloyd started attending these meetings, we have visted the Czech Republic, Bosnia-Herzogovina, Argentina, Italy and Germany. Regrettably I haven’t written about those trips (yet), but needless to say my experiences in each of these unique destinations have left lasting impressions, provided wonderful memories and have, in their own special way, changed my life. And naturally, like most travellers, I felt more comfortable in some than in others.

Since the meetings are far from our home in Southern Ontario we usually extend the trips to include some vacation time. This way we can experience the social and cultural flavours of the area together before and after the actual business portion of the trip. Then, while Lloyd is sequestered with his study group in a hotel or office meeting room somewhere, I get to swan off with the partner program on fun day excursions to museums, cathedrals and other local attractions.

And so it was with Japan. On this occasion, however, we made travel plans with our Dutch friends, Bob and Jo (names changed to protect the innocent), whom we had met through the international group. We planned six nights in Tokyo, including the three-day business meeting, two nights in Hakone, two nights in Hiroshima, and four nights in Kyoto -- a very full trip indeed.

Preparations

The build-up to this particular trip was a little unusual for me, however. Usually I would prepare by reading up on a locale to get an idea of what to see, what to buy, where to eat, and the local culture, etc., and start planning my wardrobe/packing based on the planned activities and the forecasted weather.

On this occasion, however, I had been feeling my “woman of a certain age” status quite profoundly, having negotiated for several months a barrage of anxiety attacks courtesy of my new adventures in menopause. This almost caused me to pull the plug on my travels as self-management was posing an annoying challenge. If I couldn’t control this anxiety at home how was I going to in a foreign culture thousands of miles away? The triggers were unpredictable and this was a source of concern, especially as bouts of panic had pounced on me several times in Germany in the spring. The last thing I needed was to relive that hormonal horror and be a source of anxiety and concern for my travel companions.

Fortunately, a week before our departure, a minor miracle unfolded. After a particularly unnerving menopausal moment at the dojo in the middle of Kata class I decided enough was enough and that I had to get help ... and fast!

So the next day, after an equally unsettling moment on my horse, I carted my mess of discombobulated hormones to a local health store, spilled their confusion into the ether and listened with relief as a lovely, knowledgeable health professional calmly reassured me all was not lost. She placed a small package of blue miracle pills in my hand: "Take these, you'll feel better." Could it possibly be that simple? I wondered.

Desperate and with no where else to turn I made my purchase and promptly popped a couple of pills into my mouth. Hallelujah! Within two hours, all my symptoms were gone! In fact, over the ensuing week I couldn’t have dreamt up a panic attack if I tried! Those lovely little pills provided the peace of mind I needed to commit to the trip ... and enjoy it!

Finally comfortable with the idea of traveling, I was besieged by another conundrum ... I had been so pre-occupied with grappling the menopausal beast that I had not given a moment’s serious thought to researching my destination or, perhaps more pressingly, preparing my wardrobe for the trip.

But that's a story for another day ...

Stay tuned for Not Made in Japan -- Part 2 -- Oversized in the Orient