Photographs from a small group of islands
Due to a popular drama’s use of a Queen song, the big haired and spandex clad rockers are back. With a vengeance too. Not only do the music charts once again have Queen albums amongst their numbers, but fashionable shops are even selling Queen T-shirts.
Has the nation gone mad?
Norika Fujiwara that is.
When I first arrived here, Ms Fujiwara’s face was everywhere. On the rare occasions she wasn’t on TV, she could easily be spotted advertising mobile phones, cameras, airlines, and drinks. And as she’s especially pleasing on the eyes, there were no complaints from me.
But a rumoured affair with K1 fighter Andy Hug (who died at the obscenely young age of 35 from leukemia), and a change of hairstyle and manager, sadly meant that Fujiwara-san began to disappear from our TV screens and advertising hoardings. Also, in age conscious Japan, Fujiwara is getting a bit old. She’s now 33, which for a Japanese model means she’s way past her best. And I mean way past it!
But I’m glad to say that of late Ms Fujiwara has somehow bucked this trend, and is once again a force to be reckoned with. She’s thankfully sorted out her hairstyle, possibly lied about her age, and the advertisers are once again flocking around her.
But she’s not just a pretty face, as the ever-young model has taken up the cause of helping Afghanistan’s poverty stricken children. Traveling over there, talking pictures for an exhibition, and generally alerting people to their plight.
Of course it’s this aspect of her personality that has always fascinated me, and why she’s remained my favourite Japanese celebrity. Although as a side note, it has been rumoured that Fujiwara-san will be releasing a nude photo album some time this year. Which I’m sure will be, ahem, very tasteful and artistic. And providing proceeds go towards her humanitarian fund, I’ll be sure to pick up a copy.
Or more accurately cooking programs. Well no, that’s not clear enough either. I guess food based television entertainment would be a better description. But seeing as I had another idea for F, cooking will have to do.
Now I must admit that I don’t watch a great deal of Japanese television. For one I have cable, and secondly I don’t share the nation’s intense love affair with food. And whilst a slight exaggeration, it’s fairly true to say that most programs just consist of people obsessing about food.
Whatever they do, or wherever they go (or even if they are just in the studio), tasting different food seems to be the main (and often only) focus. Even if it’s a travel program, all we ever learn about the country is its food. Ok, I know it’s an important part of a country’s identity, but generally there are other places and points of interest too.
But at a pinch I can deal with this. Ok, I can’t (as is probably quite obvious), but it would be a lot more tolerable if it weren’t for the constant and almost orgasmic cries of delicious every time the slightest morsel of food is placed into a presenters mouth. If just now and again they spat the food out and said it was repulsive, I’d be much more inclined to watch. But sadly I fear I may have a very long wait.
Even this would be greeted by cries of it looks so delicious. I kid you not.
It’s probably true to say that wherever you find yourself in the world, daytime TV is decidedly dull. And that’s being generous. So it came as no surprise to find that in this respect Japan is no different from anywhere else. Insipid presenters, countless food based bore-fests, and hour upon hour of housewife dramas are your daily staple should you find yourself at home on a weekday afternoon.
But even these sleep inducing efforts at entertainment pale into comparison when pitched against the boredom behemoth that is televised shogi. Click on the picture below for a small snippet of this disturbingly dull excuse for distraction, and I challenge you to get to the end without at least stifling a yawn.
When Eri Furuse held a news conference last month to announce the start of her commercial broadcasting career in Tokyo, more than 100 eager reporters and photographers turned up. But most (or mostly likely all) of them weren’t there to listen to any pearls of wisdom Furuse-san might utter. No, the press was there for the sole purpose of catching a glimpse of the young presenters famous attributes. Namely her (alleged) 95 cm breasts.
It would seem that Ms. Furuse’s broadcasting ability is irrelevant, as all the media interest she is generating (and there’s been an awful lot of it) focuses entirely on her melon like mammaries. And don’t for a minute think I’m indulging in a bit of schoolboy fun here by likening her breasts to the large and spherical fruit. As Furuse-san’s nickname is Suikappu. A rather amusing play on words combining suika (water melon), and kappu (cup).
Up until her recent move to Tokyo, Suikappu had been working quietly as an announcer in rural Yamagata Prefecture. Although she did briefly make the news last summer when rumours surfaced of a former soccer team coach dating a “large-chested NHK announcer.†But that spot of media exposure was nothing compared to what she is experiencing now.
The media’s obsession with her melon like breasts has angered Furuse. Not only has she asked not to be referred to as Suikappu, but she even had the gall to turn up at the press conference wearing a bulky white outfit. Completely covering her famous assets. A move that did not go down well with the hordes of fruit loving photographers.
Her actions also garnered criticism from Yuichi Hirabayashi, a show-biz reporter who coined the name Suikappu in the first place. He said that, “I thought up the name considering that Obanazawa [the city in Yamagata where Furuse was born] is famous for its water melons. It’s arrogant of her to reject this term of endearment.†And if that wasn’t enough, he went on to say that, “Ms. Furuse should actively employ her suikappuâ€
You could almost say they look good enough to eat. But I won’t.
The Japanese really know how to fold. And they even have TV shows for those lacking the necessary knowledge and skills. To learn for yourself, just click on the picture and watch the video. But be warned, it’s not as easy as it appears.
Also, it’s not shown on the clip, but if you manage to master the skill, be wary of repeating the process on an already folded T-shirt. The procedure is so effective, that after 2 successive folds, the selected garment can be reduced to the size of a postage stamp. A third attempt can actually make the T-shirt disappear. So be careful!