Okay, so I just got back from 2-1/2 weeks in Japan, so I might pull this post after I have had a chance to reread it in a few days, but here goes anyway.
I love Tokyo. This time I was hardly there at all, which to me was a great shame. As always, on my last evening there, I went to Sensoji, threw a coin, asked whoever is out there to send me home safely (and she did) and wiped a tear.
The "dress code" in Tokyo is generally black, navy blue, or grey office attire, except on Sundays. That said, things have become less strict in recent years. One can now see a pair of jeans on any day of the week, and not just on kids. The affection for uniforms endures, but businessmen can now forego ties when the outside temperature hits 80 degrees or so. While conservative, there is a certain amount of dignity also. There is even a sense of casual elegance, as in a country that takes its sartorial cues from Europe rather than the US.
My first day back in New York - I also love it here, for the variety, lacking in Japan (and which would seem sort of out of place there somehow). People of all shapes and sizes, all sorts of individuality on display. I know that people outside NYC think we are not America, and maybe they're right. We reflect the world.
But - or should I say butt - I was not prepared for following an enormous woman up the steps to the subway platform this morning. She was wearing leggings (not jeggings) and a sweater which in no way covered her massive behind swaying above me. I actually had a Japanese reaction for a second and put up my hand to cover my eyes. Oh. My. God.
Lunch time was only improved by the fact that (a) I was not walking up a flight of stairs and (b) some of the women were more attractively dressed, overall, than others. I probably would have ignored this a few weeks ago, but after leaving a country where people take pride in their appearance, it was major culture shock to experience women walking around like they have forgotten an important article of clothing.
My husband thinks it's funny that I remark on the state of women's butts, but honestly, they are literally, sometimes, in my face. If I could see guys' butts as much I would no doubt remark on them, too. In fact, I would pay even more attention. But imagine, for a second, if men dressed like women have done for the past few years. Actually, you don"t need to imagine. All you need to do is look up the old Star Trek episode in which the crew visits a planet where the females of the species rule and the men are the secondary members of their society. The women of the planet wore no-nonsense costumes that emphasized practicality and comfort. The men of the planet were soft-looking, but attractive, dressed in skimpy, billowy tunics and speaking softly. Needless to say, the men of the Enterprise, while trying to follow the Prime Directive, were obviously uncomfortable. In this episode, along with an interesting host of other issues, the idea of clothing and its relationship to who is in power is amply on display.
Throughout history, slaves have often been marked as the people wearing the least clothing. We have contemporary examples, too: in the Harry Potter series, Dobby, a house elf (i.e. slave) wears a sack. He owns nothing, and can only be freed when and if his master were to give him an article of clothing. (He is freed after his master inadvertently gives him one of Harry's socks). J.K. Rowling was obviously following an old trope, of which there are many examples in art (think ancient Egyptian, among others ). The slaves are the naked people you see in the bas-relief.
I know it's fashionable now for women to consider flaunting their sexual charms as if they were some sort of power. This is one of the best fallacies ever perpetuated by the fashion industry, not to mention the backlash against women achieving real power in society. If you don't believe me, put the sky-high heel on the other foot. Men who even remotely emulate some of women's style of dress in this country are laughed at. I'm not saying that laughing is a good idea; after all, in a country that values individualism, presumably we should at least defend everyone's sartorial choices, at least up to a point.
This is not the sour grapes of a middle-aged woman who wishes she could still dress like a 20-year-old. I was there. We pushed the envelope as far as we could. But once we realized, in my little college set, that we wanted to be taken seriously as people, we began to dress differently. And it worked. People are amused by mid 1980's movies in which the women are wearing suits, that, except for the bustline, look like men's attire, but if you wanted to be taken seriously in a professional world, you had to look like a professional. And guess what? It's still true.
Take a look at the all-powerful 1% in this country. Take a look at their clothes. Draw your own conclusions.
No comments:
Post a Comment