You can skip this preamble if you want, and go directly to the next paragraph. I had a really long day, filled with correspondence and bureaucracy, mostly having to do with our preparations to play continent leapfrog—unrelated to incontinent leapfrog, something that I do not want to see—starting in July. So today’s post is much shorter than I had hoped. I’ll probably end up splitting what could be one long post into a series of shorter ones.
I’ve written briefly the Comme Ça Store before. It’s a chain of stores that primarily sell clothing. You can read more about them in the I do not think it means… post, which was one my first descriptions of strange English usage in Japan. The Comme Ça description in that writeup is too brief but it’ll have to do. You may have to scroll down or do a text search to get to the Comme Ça part.
But enough about the past. Today you get a brief description—and two photos—of a small corner of the baby wear section of the Comme Ça Store.
First, let’s make a couple of assumptions. Most clothing stores have mannequins, and most fashion mannequins are given a wardrobe change when each season’s new line is launched. Comme Ça is no different. In fact, they have a wide range of mannequins representing various ages and genders. Young, old, and in-between. Men. Women. Androgynous figures, including babies.
In their baby section, they have a table that is not spared the seasonal overhaul. This first picture is from early November, 2003. The babies are enjoying cookies and sporting that winter’s line. I especially like the hats on the two fellas on at the back on the right side. A few more years and they’ll be ready for A Clockwork Orange. Or a Magritte painting.
Six weeks later, and it’s two days before Christmas. Keep in mind that very few Japanese people are Christians. It’s a commercial holiday where couples go on big dates on Christmas Eve, and instead of turkey dinner on the big day, the main course is a bucket of KFC. Yes, Colonel Sanders has become a Japanese Christmas tradition. I kid you not. The looks of shock on my students’ faces when I told them that we don’t usually have KFC for Christmas dinner was priceless.
But if you’re a Comme Ça baby, forget about poultry and go straight for the booze. Martini anyone? Next stop, Studio 54.
I can’t believe you, the master of the bad pun, did not use the word “mannikin” in this post. They are mannequins of mannikins.
Also found this strange definition here:
Mannequin Dollandrian Oracle. A child’s carnival character clad in a pale imitation of traditional clowns attire. He has a sense of mischief and contrary nature. To attain any useful information from him requires an entertaining display from the supplicant, although the tables are turned when mannequin has the ear of senior socialites! Even under the most somber of conditions his conduct is less than discreet.
Excuse the lapse. I think that what little wit that remained in my head at the end of the day was driven out by the kabuki dvd playing in the background while I was thinking about writing this post.