The Umbrella

I have discovered two entirely new fashion accessories - the umbrella and washcloth/towel. I spent hours in three different department stores (more on this later) investigating the various kinds and in the process embarrassed myself and my entire culture.

Woman of all ages carry umbrellas to shield themselves from the sun as everyone, men and women alike, have an aversion to wearing sunglasses. This sun, coupled with the humidity, makes you sweat - a lot - hence the need for small washcloths or towels. After having spent several days walking around in the sun and humidity, the need for these items became evident.

I ventured into Ginza, the major shopping area and where the famous scene from "Lost in Translation" was filmed, to investigate the infamous Tokyo department stores and find myself a sun umbrella. While this area of Tokyo has many department stores to choose from, I concentrated on the three "M"s - Matsuya, Matsuzakaya and Mitsukoshi. All three are seven or eight stories high and filled with more stuff than you can imagine in the most random way. Children's clothes next to golf gear next to Kimonos. Each store has an entire area devoted to aprons, something I have never seen in the US.

The basement level is one big food market. There are little booths set up with every kind of food imaginable; all kinds of fish, grilled food, various kinds of desserts - I even saw one that sold bagels. The most amusing display though was usually on one of the top floors. This was where the food basket displays were. In Tokyo department stores, you can send your friends and family all kinds of gift baskets; from meat, fish and desserts to beer and juice. They actually had baskets filled with a dozen cans of ordinary beer and bottles of juice you could find in any grocery store. I stood there trying to imagine any circumstance where I would find this a good idea, as opposed to going to a grocery store and buying a six pack. Perhaps it is due to the Japanese skill in wrapping and presentation. Instead of pulling a six pack out of a paper bag, you can present it skillfully arranged in a basket with a bow.

But I digress - let's get back to the umbrellas and little towels. Each store also has an Umbrella section, usually on the first floor next to the little towel section. There you will find all kinds of umbrellas from all the major designers, some costing over $100. They coordinate with the little towels, also by designers - who knew Ralph Lauren and Lulu Guinness could do little towels and umbrellas? I realized immediately that I would be overwhelmed trying to decide on both an umbrella and a little towel in one day, so I stuck to the umbrella purchase.

Since there was a sale on, there were swarms of Japanese women huddled around the display, opening and closing each umbrella with a skill that must have taken years to develop. This is exactly the opposite of the U.S., where people open and close their umbrellas without a thought, the material being squished into whatever shape it takes as we wrap the thin strip of material around as fast as we can until the snaps meet. This is completely unacceptable in Japan. Closing the umbrella is an art, one that takes time as each woman gently folds her umbrella, taking care to return each fold of fabric back to its original shape. The large umbrellas are easy - it was the folding umbrellas that proved impossible, even as I observed both customers and saleswomen expertly folding theirs. I was getting disapproving looks(very polite disapproving looks) as I tried and failed miserably, my folded umbrella looking abused and very un-Japanese like. Perhaps in addition to the language lessons I will be taking soon, there is a class in umbrella folding I can take as well. I did buy an umbrella, which the salesperson took time to refold appropriately. When I returned to the apartment, I again made the attempt to fold my umbrella properly, but alas, my lovely little umbrella sits in a squished up pile on the table.
How sad.