Tokyo = Money Pit

There's no doubt about it - shopping in Tokyo is a unique experience.  Everything in Tokyo is a unique experience really, but shopping combines a lot of them and rolls them into one.  For a start, there's the advertising absolutely everywhere.  Giant pictures cover sides of even larger buildings.  You end up walking around with your neck craned half the day.

Then there's the crowds - which can be phenomenal to say the least.  Outside the more popular shops, there are roped off queuing areas, kept in check by security guards.  They also stop crowds in the street to release another crazy bunch of excited shoppers, who are ushered in the stores by way too genki young employees, all screaming "Come this way, quickly quickly".  They sometimes add a few "Thank you"s  to us 'waiters' who are patiently being held up from walking in the streets by the shopping chaos.  If you ever go into any of these shops - like me in H&M or Zara today, you will either be swept along in the frenzy, or get claustrophobic and have to leave immediately.  There's far too much shoving going on.  It's like social graces go way, way out the door when there's a bargain to be snatched up.  I push a few people myself, giving a few elbows in the ribs for those who dawdle in the aisle as I'm being shoved from the back.  I don't try anything on - every mirror is occupied by at least four people trying new outfits on over the top of their clothes.  I can only imagine what the change room queues are like.  The cashier lines are long and solid.  I "sumimasen" (excuse me) - a women five times before I give up and use my might to get past her.  It's a brutal world in there. Especially when you just want to buy a fluffy pink cardigan

We pass Abercrombie and Fitch - there are the usual heart throbs at the door to attract the chicks, and pumping techno inside.  It's dark in there, like a nightclub.  I wonder if these guys take their shirts off  when the crowds start to thin out, just as they do at the Abercrombie and Fitch in NYC.  I decided against waiting around to find out - the Japan heart throbs look like teenagers anyway.  I would feel too pervy. They look very well groomed. Maybe they wear make-up.   I've seen many a Tokyo lad applying their foundation.  Usually on the train.

And of course there's also the products themselves.  Many a weird and wonderful item fills the shops of Tokyo.  I've been itching to go to Kiddy Land for some time.  I used to go in there all the time before I had kids (I really loved their miniature plastic sushi sets).  Now that the girls are old enough to appreciate the true spectacle of it all, I became much too excited about seeing their reaction to unabashed toy heaven.  Even though I knew they would have a meltdown (especially as all they've had to play with for a month, are chopsticks, a plastic horse with three legs, and a Duplo giraffe), I wanted to witness it.  I didn't quite know what I was in for though.  They immediately slid into psychotic excitement mode.  They start hugging shelf loads of soft toys, screaming with excited as little fluffy, toy dogs start barking and jumping round, pulling shit off the shelf everywhere.....It doesn't matter, as it's so crowded that nobody would notice another two frenzied destroyers, and Japan is pretty relaxed about the 'try before you buy' attitude to shopping.  You can stand in newsagencies all day and read their mags, ride around shops on bikes, test out vibrators (only joking...although I've never actually asked to make sure....).  Plus, there's always mountains of free food to sample.  This used to be one of my favourite activities during the couple of days right before I got my monthly paycheck.  You could have a free five course meal of freebies in any department store basement.  And they were happy to hand it out.  The ladies never looked at you like you were a pig, just because you were back again for your fifth baumkuchen sample.

So back at  Kiddy Land - I get a  basket for my stickers, but the kids go crazy and start loading it up.  Valli puts five barbies in it, going "I'll take this, and this, and this, and this".  I'm trying to unload Barbie-Wash-A-Pooch and they they start screaming for Liccas, and fighting over the only bridal one.  Chalky is dangling creepy dolls in my face, but I don't notice.   My eyes are glazed over.  I'm totally devoted to finding those mini sushi sets dam it.  There's screaming kids everywhere, loud announcements, over-friendly sales assistants, toys falling on you from all sides, and the floors are all slippery because it's been raining.  Then, in the peak of all the excitement, Cordi pisses herself all over the floor.  I panic, because it's one of the only times I have completely forgotten to bring just-in-case clothes.  Plus I have nothing to clean the puddle up with.  I feebly try with a few wet wipes, Cordi is howling in distress and won't walk.  I pick her up and Chalks grabs the basket.  In the mounting tension I do something I am ashamed of.  I make my partner buy our two year olds a Barbie each, just to shut them up and get us all out the door.  We take a taxi back to our hotel.  The girls are happy, but I am not.  It's hard to be gleeful when your only jumper is soaked with wee, and you sold your children's souls to Mattel.  My mother never let me have a Barbie when I was young.  She thought they were tacky.  It's only when you get older that you find out, to your astonishment and despair, that your mother was always right.

It was hard to get those Barbie's out of the packets.  It was like doing micro surgery with a pair of nail scissors and some tweezers.  They always wrap the crap out of everything in Japan.  Buy a pack of chewing gum and you get it put in a bag.  When you open the plastic around around the packet, and then the packet itself,  you find that each tiny piece is also individually extremely well wrapped.  If you buy food (especially from a department store food basement), you typically get it packaged in about three separate wrappings and lastly they pop in an icepack.  If you buy ice cream, they package it with dry ice.  No shit.  Then you usually get some plastic wrapped chopsticks, a plastic wrapped wet cloth to clean your hands prior to eating, and some napkins for after.  If you buy a coffee from Starbucks, they will put it in a cardboard holder, and then in a paper bag with a handle - plus the wet cloths and napkins.  Wow.  Just felt an earthquake.  We are in a tall building so it was a swaying one.  11.04pm.  That's the thing in Japan, one minute you're writing about garbage, and then everything shakes, an announcement comes on TV to say it was a 5.9 one, 50 km under the surface of the city, and you feel all shaky yourself.

Feeling an earthquake isn't an experience unique to Tokyo, but it is one you sometimes have to deal with if you want to visit, or live in this brilliant city.  Now I better get some sleep.  I'm about to further compromise my own, and my young daughter's integrity.  Tomorrow we're off to Disneyland....I wonder what they've got for sale in the gift shop.....