Tag Archives: Tokyo

about Japan

The H in HMU

the H in HMU

is crucial.

I maintain that awesome hair is the best accessory and girlfriend can back me on this.  I had some serious anxiety about finding a stylist in Tokyo; we both fretted over finding stylists for two very different and valid reasons.

Me: I had a superstylist in the States, someone who instinctively knew what avant-garde-ish cut I wanted before I did, got what looked best on me and steered me clear of potential regrets.  Asymmetry? Duh.  Supershort bangs? Um, no.  Really? They look so damn cute on everyone!  Yeah…I’m not doing that on you.  Ducktail mullet? Yea!  Fauxhawk? NO. Seriously, NO.

Her: Having naturally curly hair looks awesome but can be devastatingly difficult to maintain, especially when you’re transitioning and you’re getting your first proper lady cut in a city where 98% of the population has thick, stick-straight, coarse hair and we’re about to enter the rainy (Most. Humid. Climate. Ever.) season.

Well, this isn’t one of the most stylish cities in the world for no reason.
Thank god.
I asked a very cool chick with a damn fine cut where she suggest I go…and that’s how I found my Perfect-san.  I thought I went wrong at the first salon because I didn’t have images to show the stylist so I loaded my iDevice, only to have superpro guru say, “Why don’t you leave it up to me?”  Hell. Yes.  Thank you, immense relief and yes please.  I now feel very spoiled because I don’t have to do any pre-salon thinking and I walk out every time feeling like a badass beauty because he guarantees “you’re going to look fucking rad today” (except it’s in Japanese, which sounds even cooler) and his word is GOOD.

For GF, we investigated salons that specialize in curly hair (because they have those here) and she chose one that gave her good vibrations.  Her person turned out such beautiful results, not only were GF’s curls perfectly loosely ringlet-ed and cool bob perfect for her face, her new ‘do really upped her transition process a lot, like multiple magic mushroom level-ups.

So, Tokyo salons?  They fucking rock.  Do they cost more?  Of course but holy shit, it’s so full service that I get antsy, like: Can this be over yet?  How much longer are they going to massage me?  Do they really need to shampoo me again?…Because I’m that kind of grateful.

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about Japan

Is it legal?

Is it legal

Prostitution, that is.  In Japan.

Well…yes and no.  Such a typically Japanese answer, meaning one that begs clarification, especially for the individuals who have asked this question upon my moving to Tokyo.

Ok, here’s the breakdown:
If you are one of the few houses that were granted a special certificate from the government waaay back when (serious generations ago), then you are legal to offer coitus, which is the one act that is deemed illegal in Japan.  No new certificates have been issued since said way back when and these establishments are serious family businesses.  Even people who have prominent and demanding careers will maintain the family business (oh the ¥ value); for example, the individual conducting obligatory new prostitute interviews at night might very well be an accomplished engineer/researcher/doctor by day.

If you are not fortunate enough to have one of the carte blanche certificates then your employees are legally allowed to provide any service other than coitus…which is a considerable number of acts and scenarios.

How strictly is the law enforced?
Depends on the establishment, who owns it, location, what ties they have to the Yakuza and where those ties fall on the hierarchy.  Suffice it to say many a blind eye is turned.

And the available channels for service is pretty astonishing: soaplands (think waterproof mattresses and lube), fashion health massage parlors, health delivery services (seriously convenient), pinsaros (or pink salons, oral specialists), imekuras (image clubs where costumed fantasies are let loose) and so on…Tokyoites and tourists love their kink.

Speaking of tourists, here’s a recent article from The Tokyo Reporter about some complaints among Tokyo prostitutes.

It’s very interesting stuff, the multitude of articles and media coverage that arise when prostitution is mostly legal.  I certainly appreciate the bit of informative light that gets shone on this facet of Japan…very different attitude and tone from the American news (or non-news, I should say) regarding this subject.

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about Japan, trans talk

The thing about Tokyo…

The thing about Tokyo

…most people don’t give a fuck.

It’s been awesome to witness the acceptance and encouragement a transsexual in transition is given in this crazy, crowded megalopolis.  Transition ain’t easy; in fact, it may be the most difficult (and defeating at moments) experience I have observed in this life.
And I am so glad that she is able to do it in Tokyo.

Tokyoites (mostly) not giving a rude fuck about someone in transition isn’t why we chose to move here but it is a decided perk.  It’s a strange and beautiful thing that the inhabitants of this city can be so conformist yet respectful of an individual’s self-expression.  Yes, there is a massive sea of businessmen and office ladies in their requisite suits and skirt-suits with black pumps, respectively, but behind those 9-5 (attached with massive overtime) outfits are characters who let all kinds of freaky flags fly into the wee hours, or not.  Point being that people here recognize and respect that everyone is multidimensional and who are they to judge?  Not only are there all kinds of daily queer sightings, gender-bending has always been a part of popular culture here, from the historic Noh theater to the beloved transsexuals on popular variety shows to the crossdressers in the cosplay neighborhood of the anime capital of the world.  In the states, especially in the South where we were living, there is no way she would have gotten the support she currently receives from her university peers, faculty and administration whilst transitioning. Just the other week, a very concerned teacher called twice, left a voice-mail and texted because she realized she had unintentionally hurt my girlfriend’s feelings and wanted to remedy the hurt and misunderstanding ASAP…that’s the thing about Tokyo.

I’m not saying that people can’t be hurtful with their stares or what might be downright dirty looks, even, but that’s as bad as it has been thus far.  No slurs, no bullying, no discrimination and certainly no acts of violence for crossing genders.

Tokyoites really embrace one of my golden rules:
As long as you’re not hurting yourself or anyone else, do what you want.

And that’s pretty damn cool.

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relationshipping, trans talk

I thought my lesbian period was over.

I thought my lesbian period was over

Then my boyfriend came out of his transsexual closet, showcasing so many pairs of stilettos, giving my heels-wearing self a run for my money.  Hmm…so you want to be a woman.  And you want to stay with me.  AND we’re moving to fucking Tokyo in like, five months.

Okay…actually, NOT okay.

He came out as a transsexual around March 2012 and we were set to move that August. We’d been planning the move for a year, by the way.

I’m intellectually supportive, emotionally wrecked.  My former lesbian self, chock full of rainbow pride and many collegiate LGBTQ/marginalized peoples classes is incredibly proud of his courage to come out, to be who he needs to be.  My current self- his girlfriend- is shocked.  I’m already in shifted identity crisis: my stomach is in free-fall and my heart is cracking, bleeding, crying.  This might sound melodramatic but the thing is, I’m a supreme realist.  I didn’t know exactly what would happen but I knew his coming out would involve a future of constant change and adjustment.  And as much as I love a grand adventure, I prefer my romantic relationships on the un-rocky side; we all know that life deals enough challenges, no?

So I grieved the end of our two-year relationship as I knew it.  DAMN.  That really sucked as it was an awesome two years.

And here we are, in Tokyo, girlfriend and girlfriend.

After some reflection, recording the constant and hilarious assortment of cultural, relationship and sexual identity changes and hijinks seems the path of least regret.  I mean, who doesn’t enjoy a run-on story about a transsexual in transition and her moody girlfriend moving across the globe whilst learning Japanese, finding employment, eating the crap out of Japanese food etc. etc.?

We sure as hell jumped and she was right…the net appeared.

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