By Kaori Shoji International Herald Tribune
Tuesday, January 4, 2005
Snobbishly vintage in a Tokyo hot spot
TOKYO In a city where it doesn't seem possible to be hip and laid back at the same time, a neighborhood called Nakameguro has managed to do exactly that without even trying. It's hard to say exactly when this particular chunk of Tokyo became the mythologized epicenter for Relaxed Chic. From one day to the next, it seems, it got on the map and quietly refused to budge.
Unlike places like the Omotesando strip in Aoyama (teeming with foreign luxury brands), where Hollywood celebrity sightings are on par with Rodeo Drive, Nakameguro is full of the obscure and the snobbishly vintage. Fashion acquires an entirely new definition in the face of a pair of torn out, worn-through, stained Levis (vintage 1978), which the shop manager sleuthed out of someone's attic in South Central Los Angeles.
And when you start congratulating yourself for combining a threadbare sweatshirt (kids' size) with the logo "Pittsburgh Steelers," and a 1986 Comme des Garçons skirt purchased in Nakameguro's "Jumpin' Jap Flash" or "Pina Colada," you're past help. You're stuck, and there's no escape.
Nakameguro, between Ebisu (home to posh foreign residences and the Taillevent restaurant) and Daikanyama (home to the president of Nissan, Carlos Ghosn, and the stomping grounds of Sofia Coppola) is at first glance remarkable only in its ordinariness.
There are no landmark buildings or gaudy billboards, and the shop signs are deliberately faded, small and obscure. The main street is typically Tokyo: noisy with cars and crowded with local housewives towing babies on bicycles. To the back of this street is where the Nakameguro addicts head. The Megurogawa waterway splits the strip right down the middle, and the street is hemmed in from both sides by stately old cherry trees.
There, you wander in and out of charming button and ribbon stores like Stars and Stripes, go over to finger the Parisian vintage wear at N'est-ce Pas?, inspect the cheesecake on display at Johann or flip through the CDs at APC's surplus shop. You'll also pass by a good number of small factories, for Nakameguro used to be a working-class area, and has retained its city center whiff of rust and metal.
This means you'll sit down to a plate of shiitake mushroom pasta and chardonnay at La Luna Rossa. At the next table, workers just out of their welder masks will be debating whether to have dessert.
The convivial atmosphere is relatively recent: during Japan's economic boom (from the mid-1960s to late 1980s) the Megurogawa waterway was polluted from factory waste and infested with mosquitos. Then in the 1990s the municipal government stepped in to clean up the river and build sizable apartments for young families, and many factories relocated to make way for boutique owners seeking low rents. Few people care to recall how filthy the waterway once was: Megurogawa is now one of Tokyo's best-loved spots for strolling and for viewing cherry blossoms. Nakameguro itself has become a coveted locale, with land prices rising by 35 percent in the last decade.
Once you get the Nakameguro geography down and start identifying which little gem-like shop is found where, you see how this district is that Tokyo rarity - built almost entirely by enterprising individuals instead of big-time contractors. It has also managed to avoid getting spoiled by Tokyo business logistics.
Kotaro Minami, who works at the Opatoca café, says that shopowners in Nakameguro "are defined by their independence and relaxed attitude."
"They generally don't open before 11 a.m. and close up when they pretty much feel like it," Minami said. "They don't care for long lines and don't see the point in selling things by bulk. None of us here are much interested in trends or brand names. We dance to our own music."
Minami had been an avid Nakameguro wanderer, coming here to "chill" whenever he could get a day off from working the bar counter at a Shibuya café just a few kilometers away. "But one day I couldn't stand Shibuya anymore - the small cafés were all being bought out by larger franchise operations and the place I worked for was no exception," he says. "As soon as that happened, the company sent over a team of businessmen to educate us on service procedure and marketing strategies. It was time to leave."
Minami headed straight over to Opatoca, his favorite hangout, situated on the second floor of what used to be a rickety, antiquated wooden apartment. "I told the owner that if he couldn't take on new staff I'd be willing to work just for my meals. He said he'd think about it, and three hours later, he called and said I was officially hired."
If Nakameguro has a landmark, it's probably Cow Books, owned and run by the book critic Yataro Matsuura. Matsuura has long led Tokyo's young literary scene, and he's also famed for being a perceptive and discerning book collector. His quest for the rare, the forgotten and the unsung-but-beautiful leads him on overseas book-hunting trips several times a year. It is to see the results of these trips that book fans turn up at Cow. They browse and then sit down (Cow Books also serves coffee) at the shop's long wooden bench to sip, read and immerse themselves in the atmosphere. It was Cow Books that launched such fads as Richard Brautigan, Françoise Sagan and the haiku of Jack Kerouac.
One Cow regular, a D.J. who goes by the name of Nobu, says, "The great thing about Nakameguro is that it's pressure-free.
"You have all this great culture, and cool clothes, and the people walking around are like, so chic. But at the same time it's completely O.K. just to be yourself. Nothing and no one will ever judge you. I just hope this town stays like this always."
Tuesday, January 4, 2005
Snobbishly vintage in a Tokyo hot spot
TOKYO In a city where it doesn't seem possible to be hip and laid back at the same time, a neighborhood called Nakameguro has managed to do exactly that without even trying. It's hard to say exactly when this particular chunk of Tokyo became the mythologized epicenter for Relaxed Chic. From one day to the next, it seems, it got on the map and quietly refused to budge.
Unlike places like the Omotesando strip in Aoyama (teeming with foreign luxury brands), where Hollywood celebrity sightings are on par with Rodeo Drive, Nakameguro is full of the obscure and the snobbishly vintage. Fashion acquires an entirely new definition in the face of a pair of torn out, worn-through, stained Levis (vintage 1978), which the shop manager sleuthed out of someone's attic in South Central Los Angeles.
And when you start congratulating yourself for combining a threadbare sweatshirt (kids' size) with the logo "Pittsburgh Steelers," and a 1986 Comme des Garçons skirt purchased in Nakameguro's "Jumpin' Jap Flash" or "Pina Colada," you're past help. You're stuck, and there's no escape.
Nakameguro, between Ebisu (home to posh foreign residences and the Taillevent restaurant) and Daikanyama (home to the president of Nissan, Carlos Ghosn, and the stomping grounds of Sofia Coppola) is at first glance remarkable only in its ordinariness.
There are no landmark buildings or gaudy billboards, and the shop signs are deliberately faded, small and obscure. The main street is typically Tokyo: noisy with cars and crowded with local housewives towing babies on bicycles. To the back of this street is where the Nakameguro addicts head. The Megurogawa waterway splits the strip right down the middle, and the street is hemmed in from both sides by stately old cherry trees.
There, you wander in and out of charming button and ribbon stores like Stars and Stripes, go over to finger the Parisian vintage wear at N'est-ce Pas?, inspect the cheesecake on display at Johann or flip through the CDs at APC's surplus shop. You'll also pass by a good number of small factories, for Nakameguro used to be a working-class area, and has retained its city center whiff of rust and metal.
This means you'll sit down to a plate of shiitake mushroom pasta and chardonnay at La Luna Rossa. At the next table, workers just out of their welder masks will be debating whether to have dessert.
The convivial atmosphere is relatively recent: during Japan's economic boom (from the mid-1960s to late 1980s) the Megurogawa waterway was polluted from factory waste and infested with mosquitos. Then in the 1990s the municipal government stepped in to clean up the river and build sizable apartments for young families, and many factories relocated to make way for boutique owners seeking low rents. Few people care to recall how filthy the waterway once was: Megurogawa is now one of Tokyo's best-loved spots for strolling and for viewing cherry blossoms. Nakameguro itself has become a coveted locale, with land prices rising by 35 percent in the last decade.
Once you get the Nakameguro geography down and start identifying which little gem-like shop is found where, you see how this district is that Tokyo rarity - built almost entirely by enterprising individuals instead of big-time contractors. It has also managed to avoid getting spoiled by Tokyo business logistics.
Kotaro Minami, who works at the Opatoca café, says that shopowners in Nakameguro "are defined by their independence and relaxed attitude."
"They generally don't open before 11 a.m. and close up when they pretty much feel like it," Minami said. "They don't care for long lines and don't see the point in selling things by bulk. None of us here are much interested in trends or brand names. We dance to our own music."
Minami had been an avid Nakameguro wanderer, coming here to "chill" whenever he could get a day off from working the bar counter at a Shibuya café just a few kilometers away. "But one day I couldn't stand Shibuya anymore - the small cafés were all being bought out by larger franchise operations and the place I worked for was no exception," he says. "As soon as that happened, the company sent over a team of businessmen to educate us on service procedure and marketing strategies. It was time to leave."
Minami headed straight over to Opatoca, his favorite hangout, situated on the second floor of what used to be a rickety, antiquated wooden apartment. "I told the owner that if he couldn't take on new staff I'd be willing to work just for my meals. He said he'd think about it, and three hours later, he called and said I was officially hired."
If Nakameguro has a landmark, it's probably Cow Books, owned and run by the book critic Yataro Matsuura. Matsuura has long led Tokyo's young literary scene, and he's also famed for being a perceptive and discerning book collector. His quest for the rare, the forgotten and the unsung-but-beautiful leads him on overseas book-hunting trips several times a year. It is to see the results of these trips that book fans turn up at Cow. They browse and then sit down (Cow Books also serves coffee) at the shop's long wooden bench to sip, read and immerse themselves in the atmosphere. It was Cow Books that launched such fads as Richard Brautigan, Françoise Sagan and the haiku of Jack Kerouac.
One Cow regular, a D.J. who goes by the name of Nobu, says, "The great thing about Nakameguro is that it's pressure-free.
"You have all this great culture, and cool clothes, and the people walking around are like, so chic. But at the same time it's completely O.K. just to be yourself. Nothing and no one will ever judge you. I just hope this town stays like this always."
very informative. you should contact 
) , you get to see all the small shops and restaurants that make this place really special. People there are really laid-back, its a huge community of photographers, painters, musicians, film and tv stars alike. Theyve also built the area up quite a bit, its right on the foot of daikanyama so its also got a new and clean aspect to it as well. it would be nice to live there, but the rents are highway robbery since everyone wants to beat you to it.... >_>
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