I don’t want to rely solely on information arbitrage when it comes to travel, clothes, and so forth. Not because this information is useless, but because we’re all different. Gift guides and listicles don’t know what matters to you.

I prefer a more reflective approach — a diary-like investigation into why I buy what I buy. Not everything needs that level of detail, but for the things I’m particular about, it works.

There were some lingering thoughts from a recent 10-day trip that I wanted to document. Let’s try and dissect!

A bowl

One travel rule I try to follow is not to repeat restaurants on the same trip. Revisiting during a future trip is fine, but sparing novelty at the expense of ‘knowing what you’re getting yourself into’ is easy. It’s a bold and (easily) fallible declaration. However, there’s always exceptions to the rule.

Tsukemen (‘dipping noodles’) is one of my favorite Japanese dishes. You’re given two bowls: one with noodles and another full of a warm broth. Dipping the noodles into the savory soup brings on memories of eating Dunkaroos as a kid. It’s interactive. You exercise some level of control as to how you experience each bite.

The broth at Menya Musashi Bujin is indulgent. Though I typically avoid rich dishes, I’m a sucker for anything with a kick of spice. I only dip about half of each bite into the broth — a milder approach that lets me focus on the noodles’ slightly chewy texture. There’s a tinge of fishiness to the broth, but it only compliments the other flavors housed in that bowl of goodness. It’s so good, in fact, that people request refills. A bit much for my tastes, but I understand why.

After eating, I quickly marked Menya Musashi Bujin on my personal ‘food’ reference map. It doesn’t beat out Kanetora in Fukuoka, but it’s the best I’ve had in Tokyo thus far.

A chain

To say I initially understood a.PRESSE’s concept would be wrong.

I discovered a.PRESSE at Coverchord in 2023, who had a half-rack full of some of their staples like relaxed-fitting indigo jeans and thick cotton long sleeve t-shirts. At the time, I tended to compare apples to oranges: when a sense of minimality drives design, the details really differentiate worldviews from each other. How does the finishing or drape of one button-up give off a subtly different impression from another?

Ruminating on this question within the context of an entire outfit then becomes an obsession. I like a cleaned-up look, but can this be translated to the days when I want to wear my old jeans, a sweatshirt, and some sneakers? In fact, is there a way to merge these two contrasting looks? a.PRESSE may have a solution.

Though fitting in a teenage skateboarder’s wardrobe, I never found myself drawn to the wallet chain. The general (i.e. thicker) shape adds a bold, punk-like presence to an outfit. It’s an edgy touch.

a.PRESSE’s take is softer. The chain is round and thin, almost like that of a delicate necklace. Their chain is a simple, restrained touch — softer than the usual punkier chains. I mean, it could work well with a suit like Tony Leung in ‘In the Mood for Love’, but I view it as a bridging piece. It’s a piece that can underplay an outfit just enough to suddenly make say, a work jacket and some slacks, not seem mismatched. It provides balance.

A jacket

I don’t think a Nuptse requires much explanation. It operates similarly as, say, a pair of Chuck Taylors or Dickies 874. I’m not sure of the dating of the one I picked up, but I know it’s not one of those slightly-glossy 90s models.

I picked mine up at 2nd Street in Koenji — a location I prefer for its wider selection. There was a rack of some 20 North Face jackets… the majority being black Nuptses. I pulled four different M/L black Nuptse’s, tried each one on, and picked the one with the best fit. For ~$115, you can’t beat that.

This jacket will be perfect for… standing outside watching people skateboard in the middle of February. Yeah, that’s when I’ll be wearing this jacket.

Misc. notes

A couple of brief / off-the-cuff thoughts from this visit…

• I’m sure Japanese customer service in the luxury hotel space is world-class, but I’m not sure I’d give up the compact, luggage-friendly rooms of Tokyu Stay or Via Inn for larger luxury rooms. Clean, compact rooms work fine for me.

• This Poster Light caught my attention at reload in Shimokitazawa. Not a buy, but I think it’s a cool lighting piece that could help brighten my (stale) home workspace.

• Magazine House (the publisher of Popeye and Brutus mags) was hosting an 80th anniversary event at Ginza Sony Park. Some immersive exhibitions utilizing Google Gemini, which unfortunately I could not utilize due to the language barrier (though I’m working on my N5 🙂). It was still a fun stop, though I expected more from the cover exhibition.

• Paquet Monté near Yoyogi Park serves a nice, creamy vanilla flan, tightly packaged in a waxed paper triangle.

Next time? A tea ceremony at nichinichi is at the top of my list, but at the opposite end of ‘quiet’ is the infamous Lion cafe in Shibuya. I’m interested in seeing the underground tunnel at Tamagawa-daishi Temple. I’ve eyed the Yuen Bettei Daita for the past year, but it’s difficult to justify a ryokan stay in a city.

Till next!

Tokyo again? Yes, dummy. Audrey Hepburn may have said, 'Paris is always a good idea', though I'd suggest 'Tokyo is always a good idea' is more fitting.

But hear me out -- this time, it was purely circumstantial compared to my last couple of visits. If you’re able to visit your favorite city in the world, what’s the harm?

Though January is the coolest month in Tokyo, the city seems a bit less crowded versus year-end. And though it’s technically the offseason, I’d argue it’s one of the most ideal times to visit. You may not have the foliage of visiting during October, but hey, you’ll avoid the crowds of the springtime and (most importantly) the disgusting heat of the latter summer months.

So what did I find interesting this time around? Let’s get to it!

9h, Narita Airport

The arch nemesis of any travel itinerary? The red-eye flight. If you spare yourself from this inconvenience, then that's a major 'travel hiccup' solved. But if not, damn. Sure, one night’s accommodation is saved, but at what expense? But I know when I’m looking at flights and see that the daytime options are over three times the price of the red-eye (thanks, SQ and ANA), your pride takes a backseat. It won't be that bad. But really, was the last red-eye flight I took was somehow better than the last? Hell no.

Apathetically, I book it. Boom, cost savings! But there has to be some other silver lining, right? 

Well, I’d saved a decent bit of cash and was wondering the best way to curb my anticipated exhaustion after a (quick) six-hour flight from Singapore. One of the worst things about arriving at your destination early is hovering about the lobby of your hotel because your room isn't available for check-in yet, and there's never any guarantee that you're able to get into your room earlier.

So how do you deal with inconvenience? Well, considering you're in Japan, it's only fitting to utilize the infamous capsule hotels. And it just so happens Narita has one. Perfect! So after passing through immigration and customs, I boarded a shuttle bus bound for Terminal 2.

I’ll admit, finding the 9h location is a bit confusing. It’s in the basement of T2, but you’re required to cut across the JR/Keisei station before you’re met with some handy ‘9h’ signage. You go up walk down an extended hallway, go up some escalators and voila, you’re there.

At check-in, you’re assigned a ‘pod’ and provided a small bag containing some towels, a set of pajamas, and some basic toiletries for the shower. The hotel is gender-segregated, so once entering your respective area, you’re met with a locker lobby (for storing your bags) followed by a sink area plus some private shower rooms. After showering, you then enter the pod (sleeping) area. Once you enter the ‘pod’ area, you’re met with a wall containing two stories of pods. Find your pod, hop in, and shut the shade. You’re in your own ‘world’ now, albeit it’s only right to keep your noise to a minimum. You’re responsible for ensuring you check out on time, so make sure to set your alarm accordingly prior to checking out. 

I'm (self-admittedly) a bit of a stickler for travel accommodations, but what I enjoyed most was the cleanliness of the shared spaces. 9h isn’t your standard hostel that’s a tad dingy and seems to have a lingering mildew smell that it can't seem to shake. I saw multiple staff members cleaning the sink and shower areas upon my arrival, being greeted by them a second time as I was checking out.

The user experience also seems optimized to best address the smallest inconveniences you’d come to expect from staying in a shared accommodation. For example, you don’t want to have to bring your used shower towel with you to the pod, right? Well, then drop it in the bin right after the showers. Forgot your toothbrush (like myself)? Well, they have disposable ones waiting for you right at the sink. You know, the little details that just make sense.

For a 3-hour ‘nap’ stay, I paid 2,200 yen (~ $14 USD at the time of writing). Considering I saved ~$500 plus one night of accommodation by flying in via red-eye, it’s a small compromise to make instead of shelling out the extra for a daytime flight. I'm comfortable with that.

9h Narita Airport: 〒282-0004 Chiba, Narita, Furugome, 字古込1番地１

* Out of consideration to other guests, I chose to not take or share any photos.

Pizza Marumo in Ebisu

One (of many) culinary pinnacles that define a trip to Tokyo? Believe it or not, pizza. 

I’m not a food critic and it would be disingenuous of me to claim as if I understood how the Japanese values towards cuisine extend past their own. But to my (untrained) eye, perhaps it could be explained by similarities between Japanese and Italian flavors (think miso soup <-> minestrone soup). However, savouriness is a defining flavor profile of many cuisines, not limited to the heritage of these two respective cultures. So I guess I'll just go with the standard 'meta' -- that is, the Japanese dedication to achieving their idea of perfection in appreciation for a respective culture.

On this trip, I wanted to try something new. But since I wasn’t interested in the prix-fixe ‘omakase’ menu at the Pizza Bar at 38th, and after striking out on a reservation at PST, I figured I’d pay Pizza Marumo another visit.

Ironically, I was guided to the exact counter seat I’d sat in on my first visit, which is positioned just close enough to see the pizzas baking in the wood-fired oven. Given that I was dining solo, I skipped the appetizers and went directly into ordering two different pizzas: one ‘traditional’ (the Margherita, a must) and one ‘contemporary’ (their Japanese black chili, which was gone before I realized I didn’t photograph it). 

The defining characteristic of any pizza (to me) is its crust. I prefer the crust to be fluffy and light, almost dough-like in texture (sorry, NY-style pizza lovers), and I knew Marumo would deliver on this promise. The Margherita, first served, was outstanding, the tomato sauce not too tangy and complemented with not too much cheese (a killer). A few minutes after I finished the margherita, the Japanese black chili followed. And though the crust was (again) fantastic, I found it almost too savory for my preference, the sardines overpowering the tomato sauce.

Though I don’t generally feel uncomfortable as a solo diner, Marumo feels more like a ‘date’ spot, with the dim nighttime lighting making the space feel particularly intimate. Though I typically enjoy a more ‘grounded’ environment, it’s nice to have a 'nicer' dinner while on vacation.

I’d recommend Marumo to anyone interested in sampling a modern twist on Japanese pizza, particularly if you’re traveling with your better half :-).

Pizza Marumo: 〒150-0022 Shibuya, Ebisuminami, Tokyo, 1 Chome−11−13, 恵比寿ヴェルソービル 1階

waltz

I’ve been collecting records since I was 11 years old. At that age, I was a super-fan of the Doors, eager to get my hands on physical copies of their work. It started with buying their ‘Perception’ box set, but I soon learned about vinyl records through a family friend, sparking me to start my own collection.

Strangely enough, my first trip to Japan saw me put a greater focus on shopping for records versus clothes. But my recent lifestyle hasn’t lent me the luxury of buying records. Not due to a lack of interest, but it was just impractical. I’m not ashamed to admit that I don’t even own a record player of my own anymore, and replacing one wasn’t necessarily top of mind when I was living abroad.

But this doesn’t mean my itch for owning physical music was limited to only records. I discovered waltz through an episode of the ‘Customer Service’ podcast, hosted by a few of the people behind Canoe Club in Colorado. I was intrigued as to it simply being a store that specializes in selling cassette tapes, which may sound counterintuitive. But by this factor alone, I had to see it for myself.

waltz is tucked away from the main throng of Nakameguro, about a 10-minute walk from the Hibiya line. It’s a pleasant walk, being much quieter and ‘quaint’ than that of the promenade area near the river. You’ll first see signs of smaller retail fronts that don’t shout for your attention, fading quietly as when you realize you're in a more residential space. And once you hear the murmurs of a nearby park, you know you’ve nearly arrived.

waltz’s exterior is defined by a large, rather unassuming sliding door. It gives more of an impression of an art space than a music store. As you enter, you’ll notice how the music truly fills the space – a touch on the louder side, though I can’t tell if that’s objectively true or simply just a contrast to the quietness of the neighborhood. After shutting the door, you’re first met with a central table that neatly displays some notable releases, with the perimeter shelving containing (mostly) tapes, on-topic print (think books, magazines, and pamphlets), VHS tapes, and even some cassette decks.

The selection seems very much in tune with the modern customer. I found numerous instant recognizables within the typical genres of rock, R&B, and international pop. But what I found most enjoyable was the pleasant moments of surprise I’d have while browsing. ‘They have this? Damn’, I’d exclaim mentally, as I looked over the table that housed Françoise Hardy’s debut album, Operation Ivy, and the ‘brat’ album all within arm’s reach. Though these titles may be from disparate worlds, they exist harmoniously here, as if it’s tapping into a connection that isn’t readily apparent.

I’ll state the obvious – this isn’t your standard music store. It doesn’t have that antique-ish, cramped feeling that I generally attach to record stores. Nakameguro attracts the conscious – those who approach all aspects of art with intention. Some may call it ‘pretentious’, but others see it as a concerted effort to establish a new lens to explore music through. Whether you like it or not, waltz seems to be aiming as an extension of this approach to music just as Coverchord may be to fashion.

I ended up leaving with the (aforementioned) Operation Ivy tape and an old pamphlet from Jean-Luc Godard’s ‘Pierrot le Fou’, the latter being a serendipitous find from the back of the store. It’s finds like these that keep me engaged and wanting to come back for more.

waltz: 〒153-0061, Meguro City, 4 Chome-15-5 Nakameguro, Meguro City, Tokyo

A few extras…

Some other notable highlights include:

I always slot in one sushi meal during any visit, so I went ahead and made a lunch omakase reservation at Sushi Yukinari, tucked on the upper floors of a new building in Omote-sando. I had about a dozen different cuts of fish, but what stood out was the ‘ebi’. Great service from the chef, who is affable and makes a pleasant host.

Daikanyama Tsutaya T-Site is recommended in nearly every Tokyo travel guide, and rightfully so. It’s a must-hit for me. I’ve spent hours perusing the stacks of magazines that line the passageways connecting the three buildings, all organized by genre. Try to come closer to opening or close to avoid crowds.

I came across this Auralee coat that was on sale at CIBONE right before I headed to the airport. Though I was tempted (look at that price), it just wouldn’t integrate well into what I own already. Money saved!

No shopping trip in Japan is complete without a stop at Uniqlo. I was a bit shocked to learn that their size 27 - 29 cm socks are an ‘online exclusive’ – perhaps it’s a temporary shortage following the holiday season? Regardless, I was able to pick up a few things for some friends.

I know many consider Tokyo Banana the ‘de-facto’ Japanese souvenir, but I’d argue Royce’ Chocolate is a better choice. I purposefully checked my carry-on so I’d be able to generously stock up on their silky-smooth Nama chocolate before boarding at Haneda. Priced at ¥800 per box, it’s especially fair considering the quality you get in return. Those who’ve had it know!

This trip was a bit of a last ‘hurrah’ (for the time being) – I figured I’d capitalize on a quick three days in Tokyo as an ‘extended layover’ between Singapore and Atlanta. Though it’s been a privilege to visit numerous times in the past few years, I’d like to adjust my focus in future travel to be more-so concentrated within North America and Europe.

Till next,

- Noah

In the past, I tended to villainize resort hotels as exclusionary spaces reserved for the most cautious travelers. ‘It’s for those who expect to be catered to’ I’d exclaim, their purpose reduced to that of a hot iron, operating only to smooth out the hiccups one inevitably faces when exposed to the new. In essence, I thought they were just arrangements that buffer you from facing the realities of your destination.

We seek authenticity through travel to placate our curiosities of the world. At best, you’re looking for cultural immersion, a gateway that allows you to enjoy the destination on its terms. However, this is easier said than done. You may think your two weeks of Duolingo lessons have you near some level of fluency, but that anxiety hits differently when it’s time to put it into practice. Sometimes our egos get in the way of embracing the unfamiliar, with us trembling to spew our phrases in scrambled English or perhaps even more egregiously, ending up at the nearest McDonald’s.

These moments are humbling, and they’re also an important lesson that requires you to reflect and monitor one’s self-respect. Yes, we all have different levels of strain we can undergo that allow us to embrace the new. Some destinations are easier for us to integrate into, while others could cause a mental breakdown (based on personal experience). And if you’re immersed in an environment where these checks are erased, is there potential growth from the experience?

Around two years ago, I decided to visit Okinawa after a grueling two years of work and school. But for this trip, no strict itinerary dictated our day-to-day (nothing like this from my *INTJ* girlfriend). The only plans were to spend our first two days in central Naha before heading to Yomitan for a three-night stay at Hoshinoya Okinawa.

This stay was an experiment. I wanted to challenge my notions of resorts being havens that may promote escapism to growth.

I’d argue that asking whether one enjoys luxurious comforts is pointless. The rooms at Hoshinoya Okinawa are plush, though (seemingly) reduced to only exactly what you need. The bed humbly atop a low elevated platform in the corner. It doesn’t beg for attention. Instead, you’ll probably be drawn to the ocean view stemming from the adjacent window. But instead of vast, sliding-glass doors that one may expect at a beachfront property, its view is reserved for that of a simple, squared-off frame. A bit constrained, yes, but does this question our limit to what is necessary for appreciation?

Perhaps it’s a reflection of the philosophies instilled in its parent brand. Hoshino Resorts is a Japanese hospitality company, and considering we’re in their native country, it’s a real ‘when in Rome, do as the Romans do’-esque moment. But how much is one really required to adapt, especially in this environment? This is where my expectations were shattered (in a good way).

Yes, this is different from the drawn-out stories you’ve heard of that one friend who managed to backpack around Europe for months on end. However, this doesn’t mean higher-end accommodations come at the sacrifice of education. Instead, regional traditions are intertwined in the services offered, most subtly through its food options (Ryukyuan breakfast, for example) to considered activities (like Yuntanzan hand-weaving workshops).

Would you discover such things on your own? That’s dependent on how you decide to structure your trips. And if you’re the freaki-ish-plan-type, then newsflash–you’re probably giving yourself a bit too much credit for what it’s worth, particularly so if you’re overdependent on social media as your primary source for inspiration (& please don’t get me started on this topic). If it were up to me, watching a live Ryukyuan karate performance would not have been prioritized without it integrated into my stay, nor would experiencing a tasting of ‘bukubukucha’, an Okinawan tea characterized by its frothy, bubbly topping.

It’s a simple lesson, really – regardless of context, the fulfillment one can get from traveling is solely dependent on their willingness to embrace the unordinary. I found this time and time again through my early twenties, when my nights traveling retired me to a 16-bed hostel room following rounds of nightcaps with others in the common area. These experiences are most human at (first-handily) teaching you the talent of leveraging common similarities for bridging cultural gaps. But at times, this resulted in straying from my intended purpose for visiting, becoming more related to the people I met instead of the destination itself. I’d leave feeling brightened, though socially exhausted. 

Has my idea of ‘authentic travel’ turned a corner? Generally speaking, yes. I rarely desire the hectic nature of the past. I understand this new approach may seem more guarded and at worst, misanthropic. However, I prefer to view it as more of a guarantee to meet my initial intentions for traveling in the first place. Even if staying at resort hotels isn’t a top priority, it’s worth considering their value can exceed their ‘hard product’. If the destination calls for it, embrace the resort as a ‘bridge’—one that shines light on otherwise ‘overlooked connections’ that go beyond what you first imagined.

Excuse my lacking output… I’m following a hectic December up with a ‘life transformation’ (i.e. moving home from Singapore and the ensuing job search).

Be on the look out for another travel piece in the coming week or so - definitely not another Japan piece :-).

Till then,

- Noah

It’s no surprise that Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka form the cornerstone of most itineraries to Japan. It’s an all-encompassing itinerary for those looking for the quintessential sample of the Japanese travel experience, be it through food, urban morphology, or (my favorite) shopping.

All things considered, why not one of those cities for a quick trip? Why Fukuoka? Well, the answer is in the question itself. It’s only a three-day visit, merely a brief extension during our visit to Taiwan. Frankly, I’ve been challenging myself to visit countries that aren't Japan. It's great to revisit places, but there's nothing like visiting a new place for the first time. Those cities are also extremely crowded, which makes them not-so-great destinations to escape the pace of Singapore. I’m staunchly a city person, but a ‘slower’ city can be a nice respite.

Well, the city of Fukuoka is nice and compact. Everything never seems to be further than a 20-minute walk, bus, or train ride away. It’s also a short (& affordable) 2-hour flight from Taipei. So why not? 

I’ll keep it as brief as possible. Let’s go!

The autumn weather in Ohori Park.

Though I visited Ohori Park on my first visit to Fukuoka in 2019, I didn't appreciate the value of urban parks. At that time, I wanted to always be in the ‘thick’ of things, to be energized by the rhythm of people as they go through their motions. Why would I go to a park when I’m looking to escape that slow, careful ambiance?

Well, after being in Singapore for well over 2 years, I can say I now understand their purpose. Parks are great for unwinding and relaxing, an escape from the persistent competitiveness of everyday city life. So why don't I go more often? Well, it’s just too damn hot to go casually chill in a Singaporean park. It's also definitely not a relaxing experience when you're worrying about different insects crawling all over you when you’re just trying to get some fresh air. At that point, I’d rather relax inside an apartment with no AC.

Ohori Park is quaint, just far enough away from the thoroughfares of Tenjin and Hakata Station. To get to the park, we took a quick 10-minute bus ride from Kushida Shrine to the southern end, entering just by the art museum. We had no issues securing a bench alongside the eastern perimeter of the pond and grabbing coffees from the nearby Starbucks (some habits die hard).

After a three-year hiatus from being able to experience autumn, I just wanted to enjoy the weather and the light, quiet surroundings. It’s a simple pleasure like this that allows me to appreciate how something like visiting a park can almost be a meditative experience. It's like I was Hirayama from 'Perfect Days' during my stay, being present in the moment. Sure, I may have missed out on the Arts & Science on the western end of the park (sigh), but you can’t put a price on mental relaxation.

Ohori Park: 〒810-0051, Fukuoka, Japan

I don’t want to eat after Menya Kanetora (because it’s so good).

You know the #howyouseemechallenge trend (internally cringing as I type that) you may have seen on TikTok or Instagram? It's important to mention that my girlfriend sees her ‘defining food’ as a bowl of ramen. Well, her eyes lit up when I mentioned that tonkotsu ramen originates from Fukuoka Prefecture. She's pretty apprehensive about visiting smaller cities, but once she heard this, she was convinced she had to visit.

However, Ramen Kanetora isn’t tonkotsu ramen. It’s tsukemen, you know, the ‘dipping noodles’. Regardless, it was by far the best bowl we had during our dubbed ‘Fukuoka Ramen Tour’. We thought we’d avoid any potential queues by planning our visit around 5 PM, but there was already a small queue outside. However, within 20 minutes, we had ordered our meal tickets, confirmed our portion and spice levels with the staff, and were shown to our bar seats. 

As I went for my first bite, I noticed how the noodles were thicker and heavier than what I’d come to expect when having tsukemen. It’s a nice switch-up from the Hakata style, which is generally thinner and served al dente. Not only are the noodles dense, but the broth. It’s rich, sporting a spice that separates it from other tsukemen, similarly numbing to what you may experience when eating mala xiang guo (麻辣香锅), so I’d advise some caution.

A meal at Menya Kanetora is indulgent. So indulgent that we were still stuffed full after our near-midnight nightcap and into the next morning, where I had to force myself to eat an onigiri for the sake of getting something else down. I may have felt gross, but it was well worth it.

Menya (Ramen) Kanetora: 〒810-0004, Watanabedori, 4 Chome−9−18, Fukusyu Bldg, 1F, Chuo Ward, Fukuoka, Japan

If you blink you will (really) miss Little Stand.

Similar to Ohori Park, Little Stand was a pleasant re-visit. It stands towards the southern end of Daimyo, quietly nestled on a tight lane adjoining two neighboring streets with vintage shops and various dessert stalls. The interior of Little Stand is small, but the gentleman working there exudes a calmness that seems devoted to ensuring customers leave satisfied. If you don’t believe me, look at his responses to Google Reviews. How charming are those?

We ordered two cold brews and a lovely little 10th-anniversary sticker that pictures the owner and his wife, who operates another location of the cafe in Muromi. Be prepared to stand if you're unable to secure one of the few stools out front or the (hidden) table lying directly right of the store.

Little Stand Daimyo: 〒810-0014, Daimyo, 1 Chome−3−5 ARKCUBE101, Chuo Ward, Fukuoka, Japan

Shopping (but no buying) at Biotop.

Sure, the sole intention of my visit to Fukuoka wasn't shopping, but this didn't mean I was going to completely neglect some good Japanese retail altogether :-). 

Biotop is one of my favorite select shops in Japan. The Fukuoka location, like their Tokyo outpost, feels slightly removed from the traditional retail paths you may find typical. The store lies along the southern edge of Maizuru Park and is merely an extension of the park's natural charm. It’s a reminder that physical retail spaces can integrate beautifully with their surroundings if they're thoughtfully designed.

Like other Biotop locations, you must climb some stairs to reach the primary retail space that's on the second floor. The ambiance is strikingly familiar–it's cool and well-scented, though much more intimate and cozy. The selection is predicably fine-tuned to their sensibilities of ‘minimal elegance’, further complemented by a selection of apothecary labels like Nonfiction, Byredo, and Officine Universelle Buly. 

As I strolled the racks, I eyed a leather clip belt from Lemaire that had been bouncing around in my head prior, deciding it would stay precisely there. I also noted a cabinet entirely devoted to a selection of Auralee, though none of the pieces I had in mind (where are you, pink mohair?). I’d also mistakenly believed that Biotop carried Perfumer H, a British fragrance brand introduced to me during the summer, but to no avail.

I don't view this visit as a ‘strike out’, but more a reflection of my fatigue towards clothes as we close in on the F/W season. It's also a reminder that the act of browsing can be more about inspiration instead of acquisition. So instead of thinking there’s a wardrobe gap that needs to be filled, this shopping visit was more about reflecting on what I have currently and how I can better appreciate those items.

Biotop Fukuoka: 〒810-0042, 2 Chome−6−30 2F Akasaka, Chuo Ward, Fukuoka, Japan

The Grand Hyatt Fukuoka isn’t a post in r/LiminalSpace.

I’m a skeptic when it comes to staying at luxury hotels. Why spend so much on a fancy room when you’ll be out most of the day? 

For me, the ‘ideal’ hotel is clean, comfortable, and affordable–aspects that are adequately satisfied by one of Japan’s many business hotel chains. They’re not the most glamorous, but they serve their purpose. However, they weren’t exactly affordable for our dates, as we had booked our trip during a sumo tournament in the city. Luckily, I had a few free night certificates from Hyatt that were set to expire soon, and given the elevated cash rates, it was a valuable redemption stay.

There’s an antiquated, tactile nature to specific aspects of Japan. I mean, stores like Tower Records continue to thrive there and sometimes you can spot a few people using flip phones as you wait on the train platform. The Grand Hyatt is similar in this respect–the carpeted floor is boldly patterned in red and there’s an LCD television affixed above the toilet. It's almost like there's no rush to fix what isn't broken because, well, everything is maintained so well. It’s a fascinating reference to the past while most things are rushing to the ‘now’. I wonder when the Grand Hyatt Fukuoka will go the way of the Park Hyatt Tokyo in terms of renovation.

Although I probably won't revisit this property, I admire its character, which feels completely anchored in another time. It’s an objection to the rush towards modernity, leaving a genuine nostalgia that is increasingly difficult to capture.

Grand Hyatt Fukuoka: 1 Chome-2-82 Sumiyoshi,〒812-0018, Hakata Ward, Fukuoka, Japan

Though Fukuoka was a short stop, it’s a reminder that the impact of a trip isn’t solely determined by its length, but what you can take away from it. Living in a big city can be draining, where every day feels like a race to tackle your to-do list. Fukuoka was a chance to slow down, to savor the moments that felt a little less urgent.

Well, that’s it for now. I’m currently back in Singapore, but I should be back off in the coming weeks!

Till next,

- Noah

One of the most common pieces of advice you'll hear about visiting Japan is that you’ll have to accept the fact that you’re not going to be able to do everything you want to. This is all the more true if it’s your first visit. Trust me, you’ll spend way too much time being fascinated by the most banal, ordinary things. You weren’t expecting to be enamored by the architectural wonder that is, say a public toilet in Shibuya, but there you are, spending 10 minutes of your trip wondering why it was designed that way. 

I’ve just returned from my tenth trip to Japan—the only country I’ve visited in double digits. By no means would I consider myself an expert in the ‘Japanese travel experience’, but considering nearly all of my visits have centered around shopping, I’d say I have a decent understanding of knowing where I need to go to get certain things. Whether browsing vintage, contemporary labels, or a big luxury ‘maison’, I have a tested routine that works for my taste and interests. Sure, the Japanese shopping experience doesn’t feel as novel as it once did–after all, familiarity breeds predictability. However, I can still find myself pleasantly surprised during each visit, which is a true testament to what makes shopping in Japan so special.  

Naturally, I picked up a couple of items and I’ll admit, it IS tempting to document my trip solely through what I purchased. However, I find focusing solely only on the purchases to be mundane. Sure, that format is well-tested… in fact, I’m sure your YouTube algorithm has served up at least a few ‘Japan pick-ups’ videos to you. However, what about the value that’s not strictly defined by what you buy? Focusing on what you buy kicks the shopping experience to the curb, shifting total perspective to acquisition.

Through these anecdotes, I’m challenging myself to explore what makes a shopping experience memorable beyond the ‘product’. I’m trying to uncover the factors that made the following experiences so special for me, trying to understand the ‘why’ behind the connection I felt through the following store visits during my trip. As I explore these factors, I want the clothes to be peripheral to the experience–in fact, I want the atmosphere of each store to be palpable. Sure, the intangibles can only be communicated so effectively without believing ‘you just had to be there’, but I’ll try my best, okay?

TF: The Favorite.

I headed over to TF on my last day in Tokyo. You know that strange ‘twilight’ feeling you get as you enter the final stages of a trip? You know, that grim acceptance you get when you know you’re within arm’s reach of returning to that reality at home. Well, I boarded the train at Shibuya station with that dreadful anticipation, ready to cross one of my final stores off my shopping list. I’d visited TF on a prior trip and enjoyed my visit immensely, so why not save the best for last? The store was a 10-minute walk from the closest train station, a quiet distance away from the throngs of Nakameguro. 

As you slide open the door and make your way inside, the first thing you’ll notice is how characteristically quiet the space is. It’s almost intimidating, amplified by the complete absence of any background music. If you’re imagining that environment, you’d think of it as being pretty serious, right? Almost museum-like? You’ll have to take my word that the atmosphere is just as welcoming as any other store, where you’ll be warmly greeted, the sales associates giving you ample privacy to look around.

The reservation of the atmosphere is reflected in the products the store carries. As you peruse the perimeter racks, you’ll notice that the selections are fine-tuned for a particular customer. ‘Less is more’ is the name of the game, and you’re not going to find the entire season line-up of say, Cale. Instead, you can expect something much more curated, with the store merely a physical vision of the minimalist style they subscribe to. You may not see Comoli's sheepskin jacket, but you will see this season's wool/silk blend zip-up shirt in navy and charcoal. Perhaps the TF perspective is to carry what they believe is the finest iteration of, say, a pair of cashmere pants or a cotton/silk blend T-shirt. Instead of stocking a handful of options, why not just stock the best one?

Perhaps my favorite design element of the store is the large table piece that dominates the center of the space. While one side serves as a shelf for products, two chairs sit on the opposite side gently inviting collaboration between the staff and its customers. In a way, it’s a physical reflection of the store’s blog and YouTube content. While other stores utilize these mediums to explore the fabric and fit of similar garments, TF uses video to specifically document the subtle factors that make its selections so compelling. They're able to capture the technical and intuitive nature of each garment, balancing out the 'aura' of each garment with its mere construction.

As another gentleman in the store consulted the new Awasa knit sweaters, I went so far as to try on a calfskin belt from the brand. While not anything I needed, I did enjoy the pairing of the gold hardware with the brown leather. As I bid my farewells and exited the store, I felt refreshed because it’s comforting to visit a space that’s so finely tuned to my own sensibilities. Until next time, TF. 

TF: 〒153-0053, Meguro City, Gohongi, 2 Chome−52−10 第2 三井ハイム 1F

Auralee: Par for the course.

If a single brand were to be indicative of my fashion taste and the idealized world I hope to create for myself through clothing, that brand would (undoubtedly) be Auralee. A (shameless) ‘super fan’ of the brand for the past five or so years, it’s only right that a visit to the flagship was one of my first stops as soon as I arrived in Tokyo. Sure, I knew I’d see their pieces at other stores, but when experiencing Auralee, I want the experience that’s not limited to the constraints of a multi-brand retailer or a department store. Give me the principal source of the brand now, and then I’ll shop at the alternatives later. 

A quick 3-or-so-minute walk from the small cluster of Eyevan locations, I swiftly headed there soon after settling my walk-in appointment. I typically make my way to the store by walking alongside the bamboo perimeter of the Nezu Museum, but coming from the opposite direction reminded me of Blue Note Tokyo, an esteemed jazz club that still remains on my ‘to-do’ list. If anything, the surroundings just emphasize an idealized sense of place that is relatable to Auralee–cool, calm, and collected. 

Upon entering the store, I recall being surprised at how crowded the ground floor was, especially for a cloudy Thursday afternoon. Although it is mid-season, it’s also an exciting time for the brand. In fact, I’d go so far as to say this season is serving as ‘the’ breakthrough collection for the brand after being showcased to a much broader international audience from its appearance in Paris earlier this year. This was evident in the clientele, perhaps drawn by the brand's simple-yet-'more than meets the eye' design approach, as well as collaborations with New Balance, Kith, and (soon-to-come) Tekla.

I started browsing, with the first rack housing the specific piece I had wanted to check out during my visit. Knowing this allowed me to browse the other items with ease. In particular, I was drawn to this season’s light wool button-up shirts. I hadn’t seen them prior, but wow, the hand feel is amazing. It's soft and supple, similar to a super worn-in, pilled T-shirt. I found the beige to be the best, thinking it would pair well with a pair of slacks.

Moving to the basement level, I was met with a pleasant contrast to the hecticness of the ground level. Sure, there's a noticeable lack of natural light, but the space is much more serene and quiet, more in tune with the ethos I typically associate with the brand. It’s a more peaceful backdrop that allows you to absorb the nuances that set Auralee apart from other brands. You can look at the ‘grayish’ beige color used this season, seemingly taking on a different character whether it’s woven in Pima cotton, brushed mohair, or cashmere. Traditionally, this may impact the context in which each silhouette is worn, but seeing how it can be paired with other items shows Auralee’s aim of a sort of ‘cool casual’. 

I went back upstairs to try on the item I was interested in, a long-sleeved polo blended with wool, cashmere, and silk. Conveniently enough, I was paired with a sales associate I worked with on my previous visits to the store, who took care of me. After some conversation about the piece at hand, I decided on the aqua blue color unique to this season. Though the most striking of the colors offered, the material blend seems to tone down the brightness and would pair well with a dark-colored pair of slacks. Pleasantly surprised, I decided to take a leap and give the color a shot. Some light catch-up conversation over payment followed, and before I knew it, I was politely escorted to the entrance, and on my way I went.

99 percent of the time, I'm unforgivingly stubborn in ensuring I get exactly what I want. After all, it's my money being spent. However, can this rigidity come at another cost? By doing so, it can limit my opportunities for safe experimentation with how I dress… I mean, I primarily wanted the polo in beige, but I’ve already owned one prior. Perhaps the blue was more a reflection of the rapport I’ve built with the brand, so sure, the color is a worthwhile risk. After all, Auralee won't trick me, right? Instead of focusing so heavily on perfection, this visit can serve as a future lesson to step outside the familiar, even if just a little.

AURALEE: 〒107-0062, Minato City, Minamiaoyama, QC Cube 63 1F, 6-3-2

Carol: Next up?

I usually follow the same routine on the morning of my departure from Tokyo. There are no last-minute errands to run. Instead, I make an effort to unwind before heading to Narita Airport. This almost always includes a slow breakfast over coffee, and maybe some light browsing, merely as a time-killer. Add in the jazz music, and you have a real cinematic scene, huh?

This time, I completely ignored the recent nosedive in my caffeine tolerance. I was too distracted by the rainy window view at breakfast to realize I had downed two and a half cups of coffee. Now, this is too much for me. I became fidgety. I needed to do something, anything, except sit around in a restaurant. I hopped onto my phone and consulted my personal ‘Japan Shopping Map’, learning that I had neglected one store in the area–Carol.

While Herill can be found at numerous select shops in Japan, Carol came up due to its mere proximity to a lot of the stores I like to visit in Aoyama. I'd checked the store out previously, where I was introduced to the brand ‘ssstein’, aptly designed by the store's owner, Kiichiro Asakawa. In particular, it was a pair of nylon trousers by ssstein that caught my attention. They had a double-pleat, which I thought was pretty unusual for nylon pants. With an hour or so to kill, why not go take a look? I was vaguely familiar with ssstein already, so why not take the hour to go see a bit more? I settled my bill and headed off into the rain. 

You know when you’re trying to find somewhere you’ve never been, only to find yourself thinking, ‘Really–in here?’ the second before you find it? That’s how I feel about Carol. The store is too obvious, hidden in plain sight, occupying the ground level of a stark, white building. While the building is quite the contrast, it may be the opaque, gray door or the tightly curtained-off window that makes me feel a bit intimidated to enter the store. Before you enter, you almost feel like you’re walking into a private studio. No special password is required, right? Okay, that fell flat.

Well, the interior of the space is simply a reflection of the exterior. The paleness of the white walls is strongly illuminated by the space’s lightning. It's not frightening at all. While I generally prefer shopping in a space with natural light, it doesn't matter now. Especially since the steady rain has shifted into a downpour. Though I was visiting during the eleventh hour of my trip, I was hoping that I'd come across something that would pique my interest.

Following the customary ‘irasshaimase’ as I entered, I started at the first rack. The first rack consisted of ssstein, most pieces ranging in different hues of blacks, browns, and grays. I quickly spotted those nylon pants I mentioned earlier, and at that moment, I firmly decided it would remain a piece I could appreciate without owning. I continued browsing, slowly realizing how well-balanced the store was. The space is larger than a store like TF, allowing the store to benefit in having a greater selection. The brand selection is still curated, but the product selection of each brand is less discerning, so there are more items to shop for. 

As hoped, I found myself once again surprised. The color uniformity on the first rack exposed a pair of indigo denim that was followed by a black pair. I pulled out the black pair first, thinking, ‘Wow’. As I eye-balled the fit, it reminded me of my favorite pair of SilverTabs, baggy with only a few centimeters of taper. They were only slightly faded as well, which is difficult to come across as most ‘vintage reproductions’ I see are much more aggressive. However, the highlight of the jeans was the paint splashes on the front legs. I'm usually vehemently opposed to such design, finding it overly self-conscious. However, these were anything but, probably due to the softer colors that were used, giving the jeans a more ‘kindergarten-ish’ quality. 

Though I was interested, I thought it was best to think about it. After all, there wasn’t much left in me after this brief moment of relapse. I quickly returned to my present self, curtly thinking ‘Okay, it's time to wrap it up’. I’m officially done, I promise. I shuffled through a few more garments before heading for the door, ready to collect my luggage and head for Ueno. Farewell.

Even though Carol was the final stop of my trip, I felt I may have sold myself a bit short by overlooking it earlier. Instead of saving the visit after freshly arriving in the city, my visit was for when I was most fatigued, thereby only understanding the opportunity I had until I had returned home. Considering that, it only makes sense to make Carol my first stop on my next trip.  

Carol: 〒150-0001 Tokyo, Shibuya City, Jingumae, 5 Chome−45−3 コスモビル COSMO BLD1F

Till next,

- Noah

I know, I know... like that one annoying friend you see on your Instagram feed, I’ve just returned from my recent voyage to Japan. And yes, the tired trope of the country as being 'inspiring/influential/motivational', still applies, even as this trip marked my tenth voyage over to the country (*humblebrag*).

There’s no shortage of travel ‘vlogs’ centered around shopping in Japan where you’re able to get a visual insight into what you can expect to see if you make it out there to shop. We’re all out looking to buy ‘jawns‘ for our wardrobe and yes, we need as much help as possible in refining our list of ‘must-hit‘ stores because there’s simply so many. Sometimes you’re able to see people amass in far excess of what they had originally budgeted for, and I don’t blame them—it’s what you didn’t expect to buy that is more risky to your wallet than what you had budgeted for. After all, how else would I have ended up with multiples of Rohto eyedrops or Yumiko Iihoshi Porcelain?

However, I find this sole focus on acquisition boils the Japanese shopping experience down to the question of, ‘What can I buy?’ Like Brad Pitt said in The Big Short, focusing on what you can tangibly gain ‘reduces people (in this case, clothes) to numbers’ and ignores the emotional intangibles attached to your decisions. In this case, it could be things like the personal interactions you have with the staff or the packaging and presentation of your purchases. If we’re purely focused on what we can acquire, then we forgo the connections that these stores offer as an opportunity for growth within the realm of fashion. And as more people look East as their primary source for menswear, I find it crucial to acknowledge the significance of these less tangible elements.

Next Friday, don’t expect a ‘lowkey/IYKYK’ store recommendation list, as this solely misses the point of what I’m looking to explore. There’s plenty of that content if you’re willing to look deep enough. I’m looking to provide an anecdote, a reflection on a few of my most memorable shopping experiences during my trip and to highlight what made them so special.

See you next week.