Showing posts with label misc. Show all posts
Showing posts with label misc. Show all posts

Hair


All I can do is my hair. 

Every other aspect of my beauty routine has fallen to the wayside. I've felt, as I said to my mother over the phone the other day, like a "nasty little naked mole rat freak-show." (Eloquently put, I know.) I don't have much of a skincare routine anymore. The abandonment of my self-tanning regime has left me pale as a raw cashew, and I haven't bothered putting much effort into my outfits outside of their capacity to keep me warm. But for some reason, I can muster the strength to unearth my trusty hair dryer from the cabinet and blow out my hair. A part of me thinks this is the last tenuous thread holding me together. A quote from Fleabag comes to mind: "Hair is everything." 

For the past two months, I've been going through some health issues. I've been in pain off and on, some days worse than others, with seemingly no end in sight. My doctors are more or less as flummoxed about my condition as I am. It's been a whole lot of shrugged shoulders and Loxoprofen prescriptions. 

I fully believe that a human being can survive just about anything so long as they know it will eventually end. As for me, I'm not sure when (or if) this pain will end. I'm certain this is a tale as old as time for anyone dealing with chronic pain, and I don't contend to be suffering in the same way; I only endeavor to commiserate. Because it sucks. That's the best way I can put it. 

And yet, I do my hair. I go to work. I go home and try to sleep... but mostly, I don't. I consider bashing my head in with a very large rock, and then realize that there aren't even medium-sized rocks readily available in Tokyo, let alone large ones (maybe I could buy one, but that just seems pathetic), and abandon that plan altogether. 

I'm alive, I feel, in a very rudimentary sense. I'm breathing and paying bills, and that's it. I miss my old self, but also kind of hate her for not realizing how good she had it. 

For as long as I can remember, I've always been someone who was fiercely independent. I never cared much for people telling me what to do, and yet, recently, it's the only thing I can think about. When I manage to sleep, I dream about it: of someone telling me the right things to eat, the right medicine to take, the right ways to contort my body; whatever it takes to make this pain go away. I'm tired of doing all the thinking and planning and advocating for myself, only to end up in the same place I was before. 

It almost feels like an act of cruelty that I'm having to make these decisions on my own. Cruelty, I'll clarify, enacted on myself. Nonetheless, the result is the same. I'm in pain. I'm in pain, but my hair looks amazing. Thank God for that, I guess. 

Even When Nothing Happens

Smelling of coconut body lotion and Old Spice deodorant, I hop off the train at Shibuya Station. It's summer and hot. Too hot. I wish I were wearing a more visually interesting and put-together outfit, but the heat makes any and all clothing an imposition, so I took the path of least resistance. This is not the first time I've been to Shibuya, and it certainly won't be the last, but my feelings for it have remained consistent even after a year and a half in the city. The warm air smells miraculously odorless, and I'm yet again struck with the feeling of being on a movie set, some contrived fantasy version of a major metropolis. When I think "city," I see and smell New York, which is markedly different from my notion of Tokyo. Not in a way that makes one better over the other (I love New York), but it sets them apart. It colors my understanding of what the word "city" means, making my experiences in Tokyo almost surreal, even though I know better than to assume any place is without its flaws. Tokyo has flaws, but the way it makes me feel certainly isn't one of them. 

At twenty-nine, I no longer have the convictions of an early twenty-something, certain that all my experiences and feelings are wholly unique, one of a kind, never happened before. In a way, I think this is better. I like knowing that others have felt what I've felt, and will probably continue to feel the same sorts of things until the End. This has happened time and time and time and time again. 

I remember when my notion of Shibuya began, seeing a screenshot of a scan of a street snap (a real Xerox of a Xerox situation) of a gyaru from the 90s. I remember thinking she was the coolest girl I'd ever seen. I wasn't sure if she was a Tokyo native, but to me, the persona of the young woman in that photo was conceived and raised in Shibuya. What's strange is that, despite experiencing nostalgia for a time, a girlhood, and a culture that was never mine, I was not disappointed when faced with the reality. The Shibuya of the 2020s is a virtually different ward than it was in the photo, but I guess that doesn't matter. And all evidence to the contrary notwithstanding, it still feels like the kind of place where a gyaru could be born. 

I open myself to that metaphorical birth each and every time I take to Center-Gai. For good measure, I say a little prayer to the advertisements (read: iconographies) of Shohei Ohtani that gaze down at me from Above. I'm a lapsed catholic, but Ohtani feels far more tangible and omnipresent in Japan than my former God or any of the Kami-sama one could ostensibly pray to at a local shrine. 

Are you there, Shohei? It's me, Lexie. 

There's something about Tokyo, Shibuya in particular, that makes me feel like I could do anything. It makes the idea of being a woman alone in the city a romantic and wholly doable challenge. That is, until I get sick, and then I'm wrapped in Daiso blankets thinking there must not be a girl in the world as lonely and wretched as me. But this passes. All things do. 

I can't help but wonder if my love for Tokyo will pass, too. And I do love Tokyo in a very real and "alive" way. I find myself reminded of this love at the most random occasions. Even when I'm feeling depressed or like an incorrigible idiot, I'll be walking down a crooked side alley at twilight or waiting to pick up my anti-depressants at the pharmacy, and I'll look around and think, "I love it here. I really do." 

Even when nothing is happening, I have the sense that something just might. 

reflecting on my relationship with gyaru

two years of gal ♡


For the past few months, I've been reflecting on my relationship with gyaru. And it really does feel like a relationship. We've had our ups and downs, but overall it's been a wonderful and rewarding experience. 

Recently (although I'm sure this is no shock considering my blog content), I've been drawn more and more to old school gyaru, which doesn't include a lot of today's most popular and widely accepted signifiers of gal. As a result, I've struggled with feeling like I'm easily perceived as gyaru. 

It's my personal opinion that it is exceedingly difficult for a non-East Asian—particularly non-Japanese— gyaru to read as gal when wearing more "historically accurate" (that sounds pretentious, I know, but I can't think of another way to phrase it) 90s-gyaru make-up. These days, contact lenses and a droop are all but required to be gyaru as a foreigner, even if the community at large might be hesitant, or even resistant, to admit it. 

I used to do more 2010s/tsuyome make-up at the beginning of my gyaru journey. I do—and did—like the way it looked, but it wasn't super comfortable or "true" to me. I also think that style of make looks best with post-2008 gyaru styles (a la tsuyome, and hime), and I've realized that tsuyome doesn't really suit me. They say black is universally flattering, but I don't think it does me many favors. I think the bright colors of ganguro do my complexion and hair color a world of good. 

I'm not considering abandoning gyaru; not at all! But I've been thinking a lot about the style, my performance of it, and what I want out of the fashion and community at large. 


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I've mentioned this before, but after going off birth control, I gained about 15 to 20 pounds. I want to preface this by saying that weight gain and loss (especially for women) is a sensitive topic. I’m only speaking from my own experience, and I want to acknowledge that some of what I’m about to say isn’t healthy or body-positive thinking. If you feel this might be triggering, please skip to the next section.

With that said, I've been feeling... well, I've been feeling less confident. It has less to do with my actual figure and more with the fact that most of my clothing doesn't fit anymore. It was a bit devastating.

Living in Japan, finding clothes that fit me sometimes feels like an exercise in futility. I'm tall by Japanese standards, so pants are never long enough. Even XL in Japanese sizes don't typically work due to the shape of my body: larger thighs and hips vs a smaller (by comparison) waist; a larger bust than the Japanese average. 

It is 2025, and even in Japan there have been some strides (minor though they are) towards more accessible clothing, but as a gyaru...

I know I'm not the only gal to complain about this, and I recognize that I'm still straight-sized and my struggles are not as severe as those who are plus-sized. But I have to admit, as a gal who loves Alba Rosa and CocoBongo, it's a bit demoralizing to see all these cute clothes on Mercari JP and know that I wont fit into them. Even if I were to starve myself, they still likely wouldn't fit due to the way my body is shaped. I am a woman and most of those clothes were made for Japanese teenagers. 

This isn't an insurmountable problem. And as anyone with a body knows, weight fluctuates. It's simply the reality of being human. 

I say all of this as a way to explain where my mind is at. I miss putting together coordinates and feeling great when wearing them. These days, I feel ugly and massive. Intellectually, I know that being "fat" is not an insult and that being thin is not a requirement for gyaru. But years and years of social conditioning on what it means to be a beautiful woman has no doubt effected the way I perceive myself. That, and (let's be honest) gyaru has always favored thin bodies. 

All the girls featured in Egg magazine are (and were) incredibly thin. We might know and acknowledge that gyaru is for everybody, but all the media (Egg is considered the gyaru bible, for fuck's sake) points to the fact that the "best" gyaru or the most celebrated ones inhabit a thin, teenage body. 


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In the past year, I've fallen in love with old school gyaru. It's without a doubt my favorite period of gal history and I've had such a great time learning about its origins and collecting many of the brands that were popular at the time. But the more I've begun to wear old school (specifically between the years of 1996-2003) make-up, I've noticed that I don't always "look" gyaru. I feel gyaru, but I don't know if I would be confident posting on a gyaru community. At first, I tried to identify what the reason for this was. Do I need to be tanner? More white shadow? More eyeliner? I've experimented with it all. 

There's a general rule of thumb among veteran gals that basically assesses a gyaru look on the basis of a few key elements: tan, make, hair and nails. If you're lacking in one, you have to go harder and heavier in the other areas. I wholeheartedly agree with this. 

So, by this logic, if I am doing the "more subtle" old school make, then I should being going harder in the other areas. But what I think people perceive as "going harder" in gyaru is more associated with 2010s gyaru styles such as tsuyome or the modern and Tiktok-ified version of gyaru kei. Old school gyaru weren't yet deco-ing their nails to the extent that the gals in the 2010s were. In fact, most 90s gyaru favored square-shaped nails over the iconic claws of kuro gyaru. And as a ginger with a pale complexion, there is only a certain level of tan that I can realistically achieve before it starts to veer towards racial mockery. 

Nothing is stopping me from blending substyles. As much as the gaijin gyaru community favors historical purity, the reality is that what gyaru is in 2025 is an amalgamation of all of gyaru history's "best ofs." It also favors more kawaii-esque elements such as dolly circle lenses and spikey-manga lases, both of which were not common among 90s gals. 

This begets a question: is it possible for a non-Japanese person to look gyaru while in old school gal, sans droop and circle lenses? Has gyaru evolved past this more subtle variation? 

I'm not sure what to make of these feelings. My love for old-school gyaru fashion and history is unwavering, but should I abandon the gyaru moniker in favor for something more nebulous? Should I abandon labels entirely? 


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In all other realms, I am extraordinarily happy. I have a partner who I love and who loves me, I've discovered my love for teaching, I have friends I love, and I love living in Tokyo. I'm surrounded by love. 

The above issues don't effect my life at all... outside of the few moments when I think long and hard about myself as gyaru. Divorced from this label, I am simply Lexie who is now 29 years old; whose body has changed and will continue to change in the future. But I don't want a divorce. Gyaru is important to me. 

As I write this, I am starting to realize that I am speaking on gyaru solely as an online performance. I feel the most insecure about my body when I see it reflected back at me in photos; when I’m wearing my ganguro clothes and wishing I were thin like the Japanese gyaru they were originally designed for. I feel the worst about my own expression of gyaru when I notice that the most popular modern gyaru on Instagram and Twitter are the ones with giant circle lenses and vague kawaii fashion.

If my goal is to be a "popular gyaru" online, there is nothing stopping me from going to back to that tsuyome look. But that's an inane goal. 

It’s interesting (and a little unsettling) to be someone who studied media and communications in university, who fully understands how social media is designed to addict us and feed us a false sense of validation, and yet still fall victim to it. 

I had begun to associate my validity as a gyaru with the amount of attention my looks or make received online, which, admittedly, has never been a whole lot. This is not healthy thinking, and it shouldn’t be the point of gyaru. I know this, but "knowing" and "feeling" often act independently of each other, and the feelings...well... tend to feel most real.


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I'm writing this because it feels good to get out. I've also somehow managed to cultivate a small group of amazing mutuals (of which I am forever grateful) and if anyone's going to give me good feedback, it'll be them.  

I don't know what conclusion I'm drawing from this. I don't think there is one. Not yet. 

The only thing I'm pretty certain of is that gyaru, like anything else in life, is an ebb and flow. I might be ebbing now, but the flow will come again. It's inevitable. 

化粧文化 2000: Interviewing High School Students Who Do Ganguro - TRANSLATION

The following is a translation (Japanese to English) of an article from the 2000 edition of a magazine called 化粧文化 (Cosmetic Culture). It interviews a group of high school ganguros. 


On the Trend of Skin Color

Interviewing High School Students Who Do "Ganguro"

The "Ganguro" style, characterized by dark skin and light hair, became a media sensation last year, especially on TV. Though it seems to be fading now, this style, which goes against conventional beauty standards, has drawn significant attention. Why did it become so popular, even if only temporarily? And what will happen to it in the future?

To uncover the mystery, we gathered seven high school girls who actually wear Ganguro makeup—A, B, and C (3rd-year students from X High School), D, E, and F (2nd-year students from Y High School), and G (2nd-year student from Z High School)—to ask about their usual makeup and fashion choices.



*Ganguro Gyaru: 7 Girls


When and Why Did You Start Doing "Ganguro"?

Editor: Lately, "Ganguro" has been a hot topic in newspapers and on TV, right? But what exactly does "Ganguro" mean?

E: It means your face is really dark.

F: Super dark.

E: "Gonguro" is even darker than "Ganguro." "Gon" means "super" dark.

Editor: So, who among you is the darkest?

E: "Super dark"? Well, when I look at my own face, I get used to it and start thinking it looks lighter. I don’t even know what "dark" means anymore. But D is quite dark—though "Gon" would be even darker.

A: The three of us (A, B, and C) aren’t that dark.

Editor: How long have you all been doing this makeup and fashion style?

A: Since I entered high school. It’s been about three years now.

B: Since my third year of middle school.

C: Since entering high school.

Editor: So, has "Ganguro" been popular for about three years? Why did everyone start choosing this style?

A: I don’t really remember. It wasn’t something that started suddenly. It just kind of happened… At first, it started with the hair, and then, little by little, the face and everything else followed. It’s not like we did it all at once. We just gradually adapted to our surroundings, and before we knew it, we looked like this.

B: Back in middle school, I had light brown hair.



How Do People Around You React?

Editor: Do your family or classmates say anything about your style?

A: Well, we can’t wear makeup at school, so we only do it outside of school.

Editor: What about when you go out? Do your family members or parents say anything?

D: When I go home, my parents tell me, "Take off your makeup!" They say things like, "You look like a delinquent," or "You look like a TV personality," and they’re actually pretty serious about it.

E: My parents don’t say much anymore, but when I first started, they were really against it. They’d tell me, "Your hair is too light!" or "Your skin is too dark!"

A: At first, they really hated it. But now they’ve kind of given up. When I first started, my parents would raise their voices about it, but now they just let it be.

B: My parents used to complain, but now they’re used to it.

Editor: And what about your classmates? 

E: At first, they used to say things, but now they’ve pretty much given up. They’ll comment on [my dark-skin and makeup] if they notice, but I just nod and let it pass.

G: My school is strict, so I don’t tan. I only do it when I go out to Shibuya during the holidays, but I do get some comments.

Editor: So, G is the only one here who only does it on weekends? Everyone else does it every day?

E: Doing makeup every day gets tiring, so sometimes I just don’t feel like it. There are days when I think, “Ugh, I can’t be bothered today,” and I go out without it. And then I end up running into people from my neighborhood.

Editor: By the way, what do your boyfriends think of your style?

A: It depends on the day—one day he says one thing, the next day he says another. I don’t even know what he really wants. When I dyed my hair brown, he said it was cute. Then when I dyed it white, he said that looked better.

Editor: So basically, he thinks both look cute. Does he ever say something like, “You should do this instead”?

A: Yeah, but even if I listen, I don’t necessarily do what he says. I just take it as advice.

Editor: What about you, B? Does your boyfriend say anything about your makeup?

B: Lately, he doesn’t like it. He keeps nagging me to dye my hair black. The funny thing is, he used to have white hair too, but now he says things like, “Gyaru is over,” and “You should go for a more mature look.” He tells me, “Make your skin lighter and dye your hair black again.” He even said that walking around with me in my current style is embarrassing. But like, who is he to say that to me?

Editor: But he still walks around with you, right?

B: Yeah, in my current style.

Editor: What kind of style does your boyfriend have?

B: Pretty similar to mine. He dyes his hair too.

C: My boyfriend has been nagging me to dye my hair brown lately. He used to have white hair, too, but now that he’s dyed it black, he wants me to do the same. He’s like, “I calmed down, so you should too.” It’s so self-centered.

E: I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t like being tied down, so I’m fine without one. I mean, I do want one, but even if I get one, it doesn’t last, so there’s no point.

D: I have a “sort of” boyfriend. (laughs) I think we’re dating, but he keeps telling me to stop. He said I shouldn’t wear bright colors, shouldn’t wear makeup, and that I’m too dark. He told me, “You’re just too black.” He doesn’t want to date a gyaru.



Where Do You Hang Out?

Editor: Where do you usually go when you go out with your friends?

E: Shibuya.

D: Same here. When I go out, it’s always to Shibuya.

Editor: Shibuya’s kind of a must-go place for Ganguro, isn’t it?

E: Yeah, we usually hang out at places like 109 (Shibuya’s famous fashion mall).

A: I sometimes go to Ikebukuro, but mostly it’s Shibuya.

B: If you want to meet up with people like us, Shibuya is the place to be.



How Much Do You Spend on Makeup and Fashion?

Editor: Ganguro makeup and fashion seem to require quite a bit of spending. How much do you all spend?

A: I probably spend about 30,000 to 40,000 yen a month.

B: Yeah, about that much. Maybe more sometimes.

E: I get an allowance, but I also work part-time to buy what I want.

D: I usually spend my money on clothes and makeup, but sometimes I go to karaoke or game centers, too.

Editor: So, do you all have part-time jobs?

A: Not all of us, but some do.

C: I don’t work part-time but save up my allowance.



Do You Ever Get Tired of Ganguro?

Editor: Have you ever thought about quitting Ganguro and trying a different style?

A: Not really. I enjoy it, so I keep doing it.

B: But sometimes, I do feel like changing things up a bit.

D: I think it’s natural to want to try something new after a while.

E: Yeah, but even if I change my makeup a little, my core style doesn’t really change.

F: I might go lighter with my makeup, but I’ll never completely stop.

G: I think everyone finds their own way to express themselves. Some of us might change styles, but that’s just part of the process.

Editor: But you’re enjoying yourself, right? You don’t get bored and want to keep changing things over and over again?

A: I think once we become a little more mature, we’ll settle down. I don’t think we’ll keep changing things so frequently.

E: Until you find your true self, you should do whatever you like. Once you find it, you can perfect it. You explore different versions of yourself, then return to your original self, then find another new version… If you stop doing that, you’ll become just another old lady. When you stop caring about anything, that’s when you know you’re getting old.

D: Rather than age, it’s about just not caring anymore… Like, you won’t even bother with makeup and just go to the supermarket barefaced. At that point, you’re no longer a woman.

Editor: So, at what age does someone stop being "a woman" in that sense?

D: It could be next year or even tomorrow. The moment you give up on being a woman, that’s when you become an old lady. It’s not an age thing; it’s a mindset.

A: I feel like I might already be at that point. Nothing feels fun anymore. Even when I go out, it’s boring. I don’t even feel like going to clubs anymore. It’s kind of bad… It’s not that I don’t have fun, but nothing excites me anymore. I used to have things that I was passionate about... Maybe I should start looking for something again.



The Rules at School and How They Work Around Them

Editor: You mentioned that your school doesn’t allow this style. What did you do?

C: I toned it down before entrance exams.

Editor: What about your middle school days?

C: Back then, I had light brown hair. Now, my tan is getting uneven, so I use foundation to make my face look darker. My body is still tanned, though.

Editor: D, you’re quite dark too. When did you start tanning?

D: After I entered high school. Once exams were over, I could do whatever I wanted, so I started tanning about once a week. But I can’t dye my hair brown because my school is strict. I can only do this for now…

F: I also started tanning after entering high school.

E: We’re not allowed to, but I still do it. During summer and winter breaks, I dye my hair, though the color fades after a while. When I become a third-year student, I’ll go back to normal because of entrance exams. The school basically bans Ganguro for students taking exams.

F: If we don’t follow the rules, it could ruin the school’s reputation, and students might not get accepted into universities. Apparently, some people even get rejected just because of the school’s image.

E: Yeah, people say things like, "It’s all your fault!"

Editor: G, you usually don’t wear makeup, don’t tan, and don’t dye your hair. But what do you do when you go to Shibuya?

G: I put on a wig, wear a hat, and use foundation to make my face darker.



Where Do You Go In Ganguro?

Editor: Where do you usually dress in full Ganguro style?

E: When I go to Shibuya’s Center Street and 109.

Editor: So you dress like this when you go to those places?

E: Yeah, we run around avoiding teachers and people who might report us while we hang out.



What’s Your Current Makeup Goal?

A: I want to change my hair color without worrying about school rules.

Editor: What’s the most crucial point of your current makeup?

A: Eye makeup.

B: Eye makeup. I also wear gray-colored contacts.

Editor: So eye makeup is the main focus for all of you? Are there any celebrities or models you’re trying to emulate?

E: Not really… (thinks for a moment) Maybe someone like Yuka.

D: My style has kind of drifted away from that, though.

A: I’ve never really thought about it. Since my school isn’t strict, I can do whatever I want.



How Common Is Ganguro?

Editor: Not many people dress like you, right?

E: Not at school, but if you go to Shibuya or Ikebukuro, there are many people like us. You see them all over the place. It makes you feel more at ease.

B: When everyone around you is dressed the same way, you blend in naturally.

A: Yeah, even if you’ve never met before, you can just start talking to each other like it’s normal.

Editor: So it’s comfortable for you?

(Everyone nods in agreement.)



Is Ganguro Just a Phase in Self-Discovery?

Editor: Earlier, B mentioned wanting a more mature look—lighter skin and darker hair. What do you all think? Do you plan to keep this style forever, or do you think you’ll change eventually?

A: If I get bored, I’ll change. I actually went back to lighter skin once. I stopped tanning for a while.

Editor: So, right now, you’re doing this style, but that doesn’t mean you’ll keep it forever? What about after graduation?

A: I don’t know. It depends on how I feel at the time. If I get bored, I’ll quit. But even if I go lighter, I’ll probably get bored of that too and go back. It’s just a cycle.

B: It costs money.

A: It’s not that I’m super attached to this look. If I feel like changing, I’ll change again.



Spending Habits and Allowance

A: ...Going to the salon to dye your hair costs about 15,000 yen each time. And it’s not like I go every month. My hair has just been growing out like crazy. But I’m going this month.

Editor: B, you always seem to take good care of your hair.

B: It’s not that I’m always maintaining it, it just doesn’t change much since it doesn’t grow that fast.

C: Yeah, each time I go, it costs around 15,000 yen too. I wait until I can’t take it anymore before going to the salon. I’m actually going this Friday.

Editor: D, how about you? Do you spend a lot on makeup and fashion?

D: I spend the most money on going out. More than clothes, I spend a lot on just hanging out after school. I don’t even realize how much I’m spending until I check my wallet.

E: Yeah, I don’t even know where my money goes. I spend it on karaoke, purikura (photo booths), and cute little things.

Editor: So you all go out shopping regularly within your usual areas? Do you plan days to meet up as a group?

A: I don’t like big groups. I don’t really have many friends—just this group.

B & C: (laughs)

Editor: So, it’s mostly just the three of you? Do other people ever join in?

A: It’s too much of a hassle…

Editor: Does your group have a leader?

(All three laugh.)

B & A: It’s A, right?

Editor: But when deciding where to go, do you all just talk and figure it out together?

A: Yeah, we just go, “What should we do today?” and decide from there.

Editor: What about new makeup products? Do you discover them individually or share information with each other?

A: We don’t really talk about that kind of stuff.

Editor: Where else do you usually go?

E: Before my shift, I eat with my coworkers from my part-time job. I hand out flyers for work. The pay is 1,000 yen an hour, but the shifts are short.

Editor: So when you all decide to go out somewhere, how does that work?

A: It just depends on where people want to go. If someone suggests a place, the rest of us usually agree.

Editor: So you all need a good amount of spending money. Do you all have part-time jobs?

E: I don’t. My allowance isn’t enough, but somehow I make it work.



Reactions from Family and School

Editor: You’re not allowed to wear makeup at school, right?

A: Not really, but we do anyway. I don’t have time in the morning, so I do my makeup at school.

Editor: Have your families seen your style? What did your parents say when you first started?

A: They said I looked cuter with lighter skin… But recently, their opinions have changed.

B: At first, they hated it. Now, they’ve given up.

C: When I had highlights and white hair, they used to complain. But now, they don’t say much.

Editor: But even when they do say something, none of you quit?

(Everyone falls silent.)

D: When I get home, my parents call me a "monster." They even compare me to "Devilman." They’re actually serious about it.



After the Roundtable Discussion

Many of the girls told us that they started doing Ganguro because they wanted to blend in with their surroundings. "Wearing the same style makes it easier to fit in." Those who expected a bold, "I want to stand out and be flashy!" response might be surprised.

Some shop almost every day. Others say, "I’d like a boyfriend, but even if I get one, it doesn’t last, so I don’t really need one." A pattern emerges: they turn to fashion and makeup to fill the emptiness in their hearts when they feel like there’s nothing fun in their lives.

They tan their skin aggressively at tanning salons, but it doesn’t seem like they’re aiming for the "healthy" image that tanned skin is often associated with. It seems that they are dissatisfied with their current lives, emotionally exhausted, and despite being young, they feel like they’ve already lived for years. It’s as if they are fed up with themselves, and those emotions manifest in their hair and makeup.

One girl mentioned, "My boyfriend told me, ‘I dyed my hair black, so you should, too.’" But she responded, "Just because you’ve calmed down doesn’t mean I have to."

Will these girls eventually return to more "normal" styles once they find real satisfaction? Perhaps their journey of self-discovery has only just begun.



Reflections on Ganguro Culture

After talking with these high schoolers, it’s clear that Ganguro isn’t just about following a trend—it’s a form of self-expression. For them, it’s about enjoying fashion and makeup while navigating the challenges of adolescence. Some will eventually move on to new styles, while others may continue to embrace Ganguro.

One thing is sure: for these girls, Ganguro isn’t just a rebellious phase—it’s a fun and meaningful part of their lives.


journal tour: 2024

For the past few months, I've kept a collage journal. As an ardent collector, I wanted to have a place to store all of the stickers and clippings I came across during my day-to-day. Each thing pasted represents an assortment of memories and even more love.

Feel free to click on each image to take a closer look. ♡ 


letter from the editor: body image

Rafael Lanfranco

Dear reader,

This post is a bit weird. I'm not sure if I'm settled on the format (that is, this "letter from the editor" style), but, goddammit, this is my blog, I'm a star, and I can do what I want. 

I'm delighted with the direction my blog's taken and the stuff I've been posting. I'm proud of it. Nevertheless, I've begun to feel like an outsider looking in. An anthropologist studying a group rather than participating in it. Granted, I'm still a "practicing" gyaru in everyday life, but I haven't documented it. I haven't posted pictures of my coordinates or even myself with friends in diary entries. I want to. Desperately. But recently, I've been feeling down about my body. 

It's a number of things. I am 28 years old now, and my body has naturally changed since my early twenties. I also stopped taking birth control for the first time in 13 years, which has resulted in bloating, breakouts, and overall dissatisfaction with my body. I'm sure this is a temporary feeling (as most emotions are), but it's liberating to talk about. Even if I'm just yapping into the ether. 

I don't want it to stop me. If anything, this'll be a good chance to practice some self-grace, self-patience, self-love. All those good things. 

In times of doubt, I remember a passage from one of Carrie Fisher's memoirs, in which she discusses how insecure she was in her youth (particularly regarding her body image) but how, as she grew older, she came to cherish and respect her younger self. And you know what Carrie was like, so she framed it in that irreverent, self-deprecatingly funny way of hers, effectively chastising young Carrie for ever being so self-critical. 

I bet I'll feel the same in a couple of decades. But in the moment, it's harder to remember. 

I know you're asking why I'm telling you all this. To be completely honest, I don't know. I think I'm saying it to myself. This blog is essentially a love letter to me. By that logic, I am the object of my own affection. Therefore, I should treat myself and my body as a lover would. 

I'll try to keep that in mind from now on. You should, too. 

All my love,

Lexie 

( > 〰 < )♡