Japanese Culture and Traditions– category –

Happy 2026! I’ve just returned to the "nightmare" of reality after the holidays. While most Japanese people are freezing in shrine queues to offer a 3-cent prayer, I’m waiting for the 11:00 AM rice-cake scattering—and for spring to hunt for French delicacies in the shadows of the gods. Join me as I explore the powder snow of Asahikawa and how a failed furniture sales pitch turned into a mushroom deal at a luxury forest lodge.

Today, let’s take a gently enthusiastic—occasionally cheeky—stroll through one of Tokyo’s eternal design icons: Spiral, the multi-purpose cultural complex in Omotesandō. Opened in 1985 and turning 40 in 2025, it somehow refuses to age. Y...

Today, we’re taking you on a casual, slightly cheeky stroll through one of Tokyo’s most inventive design hangouts: Tokyo Midtown Design Hub (TMDH). Imagine stepping into a building that gives a knowing wink to both your left-brain archit...

【】 When you hear Suntory, you probably think whisky on the rocks, highball cans from the konbini, or maybe that jingle that somehow gets stuck in your head for days. But plot twist: Suntory also runs a museum. Yep, a museum, and not ju...

【】 Step out of Omotesando Station and you’re ready for fashion runways and overpriced lattes. But walk for ten minutes, and—plot twist—you’re suddenly in a Zen bubble. Welcome to the Nezu Museum, where Tokyo’s chaos politely takes a se...

Harajuku’s legendary Kawaii Monster Café (2015–2021) is clawing its way back from the neon grave, only this time it evolved into KAWAII MONSTER LAND (KML)—a full-on technicolor amusement park opening Winter 2025. Picture this: a candy-sh...

In a world obsessed with precision, Hebocon is a profound rejection of efficiency. It is a "Sumo of Sorrows" where paper-faced robots self-destruct in a tragic microcosm of the human condition. Why do we love the "heboi" and the non-functional? From Doraemon to the Hatsune Miku Art Chair, we delve into the Japanese art of finding a soul in the beautifully unnecessary.

Why do we seek fictional fear? Because that emotion overwhelms the rational knowledge of whether the threat is real (unlike sadness, which is easily dismissed). This explains the difference between Hollywood and J-Horror. Hollywood gives us physical terror—monsters that bite and claw. J-Horror, exemplified by The Ring, gives us psychological anxiety—the silent evil that crawls out of a video cassette, breaching the reality of our everyday life. This unique Japanese trait—finding a small dose of the extraordinary in the ordinary (like going to a public bath)—is what makes the horror so pervasive. Our furniture aims for a similar, though less scary, effect: making your everyday activities a little more special.

Why does Shōgun feel so "authentic" to us Japanese viewers, even though we've never seen a real samurai? I suspect our common image is a sophisticated fiction created by the entertainment industry. While the language barrier of the 17th century was real (we'd need translators!), the architectural detail is authentic, thanks partly to a Belgian historian advisor. This realism captured the era’s aesthetic: the appreciation of shadow and dimness. The implicit message is that true Japanese beauty is revealed only in the dark. Try it: find the perfect shadow for your furniture and discover the hidden elegance of the samurai era.

Why do people in one of the coldest places on Earth eat the most ice cream in winter? Explore the fascinating world of Hokkaido's sub-zero life, where airtight architecture and T-shirt-warm indoors turn a harsh winter into a cozy sanctuary.