Being a woman in Japan is both a pleasure and a struggle.Flickr: thisparticulargreg

What has struck me the most since arriving in Japan has without a doubt been its ‘feminine’ world.  With the famous kawaii ‘cute’ culture, foreigners seem to have a very fixed image of Japanese women, but femininity in Japan often seems both fascinating and somewhat disturbing.  While ‘feminine’ is a subjective term without concrete meaning, it doesn’t quite seem to work like that in Japanese fashion.  While some examples of experimental dressing in younger girls can be seen, and the famous Harajuku district in Tokyo is the home to subcultural street fashions, the widespread dress code is mostly a combination of sophisticated, pretty and elegant. All it takes is to enter a Japanese shopping centre to gain an insight into this world, and further question how commercial culture can be universally damaging for women across the globe. 

Entering a shopping centre in Osaka is an overwhelming experience to say the least.  Buzzing with busy shoppers on a mission in an atmosphere that can only be compared to that of IKEA, the maze-like and windowless design puts you into a kind of light-headed trance, and it is easy to feel disoriented and to lose track of time.  There are countless floors with row after row of wonderful clothes and accessories stores.  Everything seems to run like clockwork: the shoppers know where they are going, and the workers repeatedly shout out greetings and discount information in sing-song tones.  It is as if everything is choreographed, a kind of organised chaos that encourages productive shopping.  As a lazy shopper, this makes the experience both exhausting and exhilarating for me; never before have I known exactly what I wanted to buy and been so determined to go and get it.  That was when the ‘femininity’ issue struck me.

In British shopping centres, every floor contains a variety of stores: clothing for both men and women, book shops, homeware, and so on.  This Osaka mall, however, was simply women’s clothing; heading up the escalator every half an hour, you mostly find what seemed like the same shop with different names.  The particular style needed to fit into Japanese society as a woman is thrown at you everywhere you look, and not just because it is clear what style is popular by looking at the front rail of each shop.  The standardisation of fashion is clear in the shapes and sizes provided.  A size ‘F’ meaning one size is frequently found in the labels of tops and skirts, not just in garments like gloves and socks as one would expect.  There are many rails filled with just Mediums and an L-size skirt in Uniqlo is the equivalent of a UK size 12, suggesting a lack of consideration for women of different shapes.  Women are expected to conform to a particular look and size, perhaps explaining the atmosphere of productivity rather then retail therapy.

This is not only telling about the issue of female fashion in Japan but sheds light on gender in the country and the world as a whole.  Being a woman in Japan comes with a huge number of expectations, particularly in terms of appearance.  Of course, this is true of any nation, but here it is clear on a much more obvious and visual level.  Dieting culture is huge, and just watching television leads to being bombarded with explicitly problematic adverts; female viewers are told to purchase a waist cincher device that looks like a blood pressure monitor to actually physically make them photoshop-skinny.  Pressure to perfect ourselves and to be ‘feminine’ is a worldwide issue, and the heavy commercialisation of femininity in Japan is eye-opening.  

Being a woman in Japan is both a pleasure and a struggle. The range of products and glitzy atmosphere of the major shopping streets is certainly exciting at first, but once the initial amazement wears off, what is left beneath the surface is something rather disconcerting.  The bright and vibrant shopping lifestyle is in reality a sign that women are pressured into being a certain individual, to conform into an image that is seen as appropriate in society.  While it may not seem so in Britain, this pressure exists in any busy shopping street in the world and we should bear this in mind the next time we want to update our wardrobes