I’d like to take those snivelling little shits who wander, disenchanted, around the fields of the central bank and bring them here to Harijuku and point to all the real freaks who inhabit and go “THERE! THERE YOU ARE! Now THAT’S a freak! Why can’t you be more like THESE freaks and be truly original!”
At the entrance to Yogi Park (apparently nothing to do with the bear…) where the (mostly) girls gather of a Sunday is probably only really for the posers and media hungry. There are far more tourists here today than there are girls and boys and most of the freaks slink into the corner and their mobile phones and friends, only emerging every now again to take part in the photo sessions.
A few attention seekers, like this guy who does some sort of Street Fighter’s Vega mask-ed-fan-dance, play up a little more for the crowds. His tepid girlfriend just stands and fiddles with the little toys which dangle from her side like some sort of token Japanese in-patient in an exaggerated mental asylum movie scene.
They wander this way and that around the area, dragging their packed bags (containing what? May I ask? Their everyday clothes or a costume change for if they clash?)
Nearby an ad for a makeup company sums it up the madness “Smile is Best Makeup, Enjoy Beautiful Life”
Much more interesting are the surrounding streets and small shopping lanes where they walk free in the massive crowds. The shops sell everything from trendy shoes and shirts to the craziest of garments but never the same thing twice.
Our group of travelers, a few of us from the hostel and our two Japanese guides, stick close in the massively crowded streets. Harijuku = awesome!