Astro Boy and the misplaced future
Do you remember Astro Boy? While the 2009 Hollywood remake wasn’t exactly a blockbuster, the original Japanese manga from the 1950s is the bedrock of our cultural imagination. It was set in a “future” called the 21st century—a world of flying cars and sentient robots. Every Japanese person of my generation can still sing the theme song by heart.
In 1997, Toyota used this iconic character to launch the Prius with a killer slogan: “Just in time for the 21st century.” The commercial featured a narration addressed to the long-passed creator of Astro Boy: “Osamu Tezuka-sama, this is the car you imagined.” Even for me, someone who didn’t live through the peak of the original manga, that line hit hard. It was a wake-up call—a reminder of the dazzling, high-tech future we had all once dreamed of. It highlighted the massive gap between the sci-fi fantasies of our childhood and the environmental reality of our adulthood.
Breaking the Mercedes hierarchy
The Prius certainly couldn’t fly us to Hogwarts, it couldn’t take Marty “Back to the Future,” and it couldn’t transform into a giant robot to protect Sam. But it did something more radical: it demolished the traditional hierarchy of the car world.
Before the Prius, the rules were simple: bigger, faster, and more expensive was “better.” There was a rigid social ladder. You could drive a Mercedes-Benz C-Class with your head held high in a small town, but in Tokyo, you’d feel small next to an E-Class or an S-Class. Wealth was measured in horsepower and leather.
Then, the Prius arrived. It was a modest sedan, technically “lower class” in size and price. But it stepped completely outside the hierarchy. Suddenly, Hollywood A-listers were showing up to the Academy Awards in a Prius instead of a gas-guzzling stretch limo. Driving a Prius became a way to say, “I have enough money to buy a Ferrari, but I have enough intelligence and soul to care about the planet.” Intelligence became the new luxury.
A new hierarchy for the home
The furniture industry is currently trapped in a similar, old-fashioned hierarchy. The “top layer” is often occupied by massive brands with bottomless marketing budgets—companies that sell “status” through heavy promotion.
But I sense a shift coming. Just as the Prius became the “smart choice” that ignored traditional social standing, I believe the next generation of furniture buyers will look for a different kind of hierarchy. They won’t care which brand has the biggest billboard; they will care which brand has the deepest connection to the forest.
At CondeHouse, we don’t aim to be the “limousine” of the furniture world. We want to be the “Prius”—the choice that signals a shift in values. I look forward to the day when the global elite choose our Hokkaido-made furniture not because it’s the most expensive, but because it’s the most thoughtful. After all, if the future doesn’t have flying cars, at least it should have a very comfortable, sustainable place to sit.
Our “Hatsune Miku Art Chair” is the ultimate example of this new hierarchy. It’s not just a chair; it’s a “Just in time for the 21st century” statement. By merging the craftsmanship of the past with the digital culture of the future, it defies the old rules of “expensive-looking” furniture. Like the stars who drove a Prius to the Oscars, choosing this chair says that you value innovation, culture, and environmental responsibility over mere brand name. Why not own a piece that marks your place in the new hierarchy of thoughtful luxury?


Shungo Ijima
Global Connector | Reformed Bureaucrat | Professional Over-Thinker
After years of navigating the rigid hallways of Japan’s Ministry of Finance and surviving an MBA, he made a life-changing realization: spreadsheets are soulless, and wood has much better stories to tell.
Currently an Executive at CondeHouse, he travels the world decoding the “hidden DNA” of Japanese culture—though, in his travels, he’s becoming increasingly more skilled at decoding how to find the cheapest hotels than actual cultural mysteries.
He has a peculiar talent for finding deep philosophical meaning in things most people ignore as meaningless (and to be fair, they are often actually meaningless). He doesn’t just sell furniture; he’s on a mission to explain Japan to the world, one intellectually over-analyzed observation at a time. He writes for the curious, the skeptical, and anyone who suspects that a chair might actually be a manifesto in disguise.
Follow his journey as he bridges the gap between high-finance logic and the chaotic art of living!
Photo Credit: https://global.toyota/en/prius20th/evolution/

