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SHOW NOTES

Orko and Alan Thicke Talk About Divorce

Henry Cavill Charging Up For ‘Voltron’ At Amazon MGM Studios

Commercial for Voltron Coffins

Patrick’s new Polar Borer - The Last Dinosaur Movie Poster

The Last Dinosaur Best of Richard Boone

Wandering Ginza Butterfly Collection Limited Edition Blu-ray (featuring audio commentary by Pat and Matt)

Yakuza 4 Remastered So this is a hostess club

Ringo Starr’s Ringo Sutta Apple Juice Commercial

Theme song for The Second is a Christian (lyrics by Greg Starr)

Ultraman actress Hiroko Sakurai + Matt Alt

Science Patrol Uniforms from Ultraman

Michael Popcorn Bucket

Hiromi Go and Emmanuel Lewis

Hot Tears of Shame TV - Featuring the Polar Borer and Various Ultraman uniforms

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Pokémon was born as a game. Detective Conan began its long-running TV anime. Tamagotchi arrived as a tiny digital pet that took over schoolyards, toy stores, and eventually nostalgia culture. Pompompurin joined Sanrio’s lineup and became one of the company’s most reliable character hits….

Japanese pop culture in 1996 looked less like a normal year and more like a blast radius.

A new Mainichi Shimbun article by Tsutomu Kimino breaks down the year from five angles, arguing that 1996 was a “content Cambrian explosion” for Japan. The idea is simple: many of the basic forms that still define Japanese media today seemed to appear almost all at once.

The Digital Turn That Changed Anime Production

Japan in 1996 was coming off the shock of the previous year, when the Great Hanshin Earthquake and a historically strong yen had left a deep mark on the country. By 1996, the yen had weakened, manufacturers were investing again, and the economy briefly seemed to be moving beyond the long post-bubble slump.

Inside the anime industry, another major shift was underway.

That year, Toei Animation, then still known as Toei Doga, formally adopted RETAS!, short for Revolutionary Engineering Total Animation System. The software had already existed for several years, but its use by a major studio marked a new stage for the industry.

RETAS! made it possible to digitize large parts of the finishing process, including drawing, tracing, coloring, and photography. It did not immediately surpass the look and flexibility of analog production, but it dramatically changed the pipeline by removing chemical and optical processes from the workflow.

That had a human cost. Veteran specialists whose skills were built around the analog process were pushed out or forced to adapt. At the same time, younger creators with stronger interest in digital tools, CG, and computer-driven production entered the field.

Anime was beginning to look less like a purely craft-based business and more like an IT-driven content industry.

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The Console Wars Created a Content Boom

1996 also saw Japan’s “next-generation console war” enter a fever pitch.

The Sega Saturn, PlayStation, and Super Famicom were all fighting for space in the market, and that platform battle created ideal conditions for new hits. Games like Resident Evil and Sakura Wars emerged during this period, helping build franchises that would continue far beyond their original hardware. In this sense, the fight for game console dominance became a kind of greenhouse for content.

Pokémon, Tamagotchi, Detective Conan, and Pompompurin were not all born from the same business model, but they all appeared in an environment where characters, games, anime, toys, and merchandise were beginning to move together more aggressively.

Detective Conan had started as a manga in 1994 before TMS Entertainment, then Tokyo Movie Shinsha, brought it to TV in 1996. Pokémon followed a similar fast track, with OLM producing the anime adaptation in 1997, only a year after the original games arrived.

Both studios were also looking toward digital production around this period, showing how technology and character business were beginning to evolve side by side.

From Master Craftsmen to Repeatable Production

One of the major changes Kimino points to is the shift away from an older production culture built around “takumi,” or master craftsmen.

In earlier decades, Japanese animation and manufacturing placed enormous value on veteran skill. Experienced creators used instinct, technique, and accumulated knowledge to meet deadlines while still adding personal style and dramatic flair. Even when animation quality was inconsistent, strong scripts, characters, direction, and personality could still carry a show.

But as production schedules tightened and digital systems spread, the industry moved toward processes that were easier to repeat, manage, and scale. New creators, freed from the older craft system and supported by digital tools, increasingly focused on reproducing the look and appeal of original manga, games, and products. That helped strengthen character merchandising.

In modern merchandising-driven works, the goal is often less about letting characters grow dramatically and more about keeping them consistent, recognizable, and endlessly usable. For weekly TV series in particular, the priority is stable production: keep the same energy, the same tone, the same appeal, and never let the audience drift away.

That consistency is great for business. But for viewers raised on older analog anime, it can also leave them missing the raw personality and passion of individual creators.

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Dot Graphics Became Imagination Engines

Pokémon and Tamagotchi were both shaped by the limits of handheld game hardware. At the time, small LCD screens could only show simple dot graphics. Those graphics were stiff, tiny, and limited. But that limitation became a strength. Players were invited to imagine the rest.

The roughness of the images made the characters feel collectible and expandable. Package art, guidebooks, magazines, merchandise, and promotional illustrations helped fill in what the screens could not show. Before long, the characters escaped the games themselves. That is one reason Pokémon could move to anime so quickly after its debut.

Tamagotchi did something similar in a different way. It was not just a digital pet device. It became a character goods business, expanding into stationery, candy, cards, and accessories. Decades later, it continues to return to trend status, helping feed the current “Heisei” nostalgia boom.

Pompompurin, who also debuted in 1996, became one of Sanrio’s most dependable characters, ranking near the top tier of the company’s popularity lineup for years.

Cute Media Started Showing Dangerous Things

Another reason 1996 stands out is that many of its biggest hits included things that earlier children’s or character media tended to avoid.

Tamagotchi had death. Pompompurin had his now-famous butt mark. Pokémon and Tamagotchi made the idea of carrying life around in your pocket feel normal. Detective Conan placed a child detective at murder scenes every week.

Even Resident Evil found a clever way around the discomfort of shooting human targets by making its enemies former humans rather than simply humans. Sakura Wars, meanwhile, combined romance adventure, simulation RPG elements, action, stage musical energy, and Taisho-era retro-futurism into a strange hybrid that had little precedent in the mainstream.

These were not all the same kind of taboo, but they shared a common feature. They took ideas that had been hidden, awkward, niche, or hard to say out loud and pushed them into the sunlight.

After 1996, the strange could become standard.

The Franchises Became a Shared Language Across Generations

The staying power of these properties may be the biggest proof of 1996’s importance.

Kimino recalls working on the Pokémon movie business and seeing an older company executive hold a Nintendo DS toward the screen during a preview event. The executive was receiving a special Mythical Pokémon distributed wirelessly at theaters and said he planned to show it off to his grandchild before trading it. That was in 2010. By then, Pokémon was already a three-generation product.

Detective Conan has done something similar. Its movie audience now crosses age groups, and each new entry is expected to push the series’ box office record higher. The latest film, Detective Conan: The Fallen Angel of Highway, has passed about $81 million (¥13 billion).

Tamagotchi, now in the middle of another boom, has also evolved into a parent-child item through communication features, gift exchanges, character matchmaking, and marriage systems.

Resident Evil booths at Tokyo Game Show now draw families. Sakura Wars lost its main Sega Saturn platform long ago, but the franchise continues to generate new fan interest through events, revivals, and spin-off effects.

A Gift From the Past and an Asset for the Future

The “content explosion” of 1996 was not just a nostalgia moment. It created the basic skeleton of much of Japan’s current content world.

For adults buying back the things they loved as children, 1996 is a gift from the past. For Gen Z fans discovering retro Heisei cuteness, it is a source of style and identity. For companies, it is an asset that can still be revived, remade, extended, and exported.

Economically, 1996 was not a golden age. Japan was still in a fragile recovery period, just before the 1997 consumption tax hike and Asian financial crisis.

But culturally, 1996 now looks like a prelude to the modern boom: mass anime exports, global streaming, character merchandising, theatrical anime records, and the worldwide rise of Japanese pop culture.

For Japan, a country that has repeatedly drawn strength from its content industries, 1996 was more than a good year for games, anime, and toys. It was the year the future showed up in character form.

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SHOW NOTES

Japanese promo for “Masters of Universe” featuring “comedian” Kinnikun Nakayama

Japanese ad for Masters of the Universe toys by Takara

Replica Mad Max V8 Interceptor in Melbourne, Australia

Nikkei launches new stock index tracking Japan’s entertainment industry

7-Eleven Japan Pioneer Toshifumi Suzuki Dies at 93

A Pictorial History of Japanese 7-11 Uniforms

The Matcha Azuki Burrito at 7-11 Japan

Yoshihiro Nishimura – Japanese Splatter Master and ‘Tokyo Gore Police’ Director Has Passed Away

The Sushi Typhoon Bento Box

DX Chogokin SDF-1 Macross Intro Video

Robotech… to the Rescue! (1985)

Macross original English opening theme song 1984 (we used the Corn Pone Flicks version)

Macross: Do You Remember Love screening announced for Anime Expo 2026

Comments after the official Robotech account on X tweeted about the screening

Show Sponsor: The Women of Robotech

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In the United States, the new film Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu, is already being written off as a major disappointment. In its second weekend, the film ranked third behind Backrooms and Obsession, with a weekend gross of $25 million, a nearly 70 percent drop from its opening weekend, and a cumulative North American total of $137.36 million. Both films ahead of Star Wars were made by young directors who built audiences through YouTube and online video, turning the weekend into a larger industry story about low-cost films and Gen Z filmmakers overtaking a major legacy franchise, arguably the biggest ever.

In Japan, however, The Mandalorian and Grogu has held the No. 1 spot at the box office for two weeks straight. It opened at No. 1 over the May 22 to 24 weekend with 434,507 admissions and about ¥748.58 million, or about $4.7 million. It stayed at No. 1 over the May 29 to 31 weekend with 243,000 admissions and ¥425 million, or about $2.7 million. By June 1, its cumulative total had reached 891,317 admissions and ¥1.511 billion, or about $9.5 million.

Those numbers do not make The Mandalorian and Grogu a major Japanese breakout hit, but they do show that Star Wars still has a reliable theatrical audience in Japan. The question is why a nearly 50-year-old foreign franchise, one that seems to have lost all momentum elsewhere, can still hold the top spot in a Japanese market driven by domestic films.

A Record Market That Favors Domestic Films

For context, Japan is coming off a record box-office year. The Motion Picture Producers Association of Japan reported 2025 total box-office revenue of ¥274.452 billion, about $1.73 billion, with 188.756 million admissions. Japanese films accounted for 75.6 percent of the market, while foreign films accounted for 24.4 percent.

That growth has been driven largely by domestic films. In 2025, the biggest titles included Demon Slayer: Infinity Castle Part 1, Kokuho, and Detective Conan: One-eyed Flashback, while the year’s top foreign film was Mission: Impossible: The Final Reckoning. The gap was large: Demon Slayer earned ¥39.14 billion, about $246.2 million, while Mission: Impossible earned ¥5.28 billion, about $33.2 million.

Foreign franchise films still matter, but they are no longer automatic event movies in Japan. A useful comparison came in 2018, when Detective Conan: Zero the Enforcer significantly outperformed Avengers: Infinity War at the Japanese box office. That gap remains a reminder that Japan’s strongest moviegoing habits are rooted in domestic IP, anime, and long-running local franchises.

And yet, Star Wars still seems to have a loyal audience made up of both hardcore fans and casual viewers. How did it happen?

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Star Wars Has Survived Several Eras in Japan

A lot has been written about the close ties between Star Wars and Japan, beginning with design choices such as Darth Vader’s shogun-like helmet and the influence of Akira Kurosawa’s The Hidden Fortress, right up to today with made-in-Japan anime projects such as Star Wars: Visions.

In short, Star Wars has a long history in Japan that does not depend only on the current Disney era. The original Star Wars opened in Japan in 1978 and became a major imported pop culture event. The toys did not create the same retail explosion they did in the other countries, but the film itself was a smash hit, and The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi were greeted in Japan as massive entertainment events, quickly attaining classic status.

After the original trilogy ended in 1983, Star Wars went through a quieter period as it did around the world. George Lucas’s epic space opera was no longer at the center of mass pop culture in Japan, but it did not exactly disappear either. The brand remained active through obsessive otaku-style fandom, zines, home video, television broadcasts, and pop culture references. During those years, Star Wars became less of a current hit and more of a durable fan property.

The prequel era changed that. When The Phantom Menace arrived in 1999, Japan celebrated and shared in the same overexcited “second coming of Star Wars” hype seen around the world. The later prequels also performed strongly with general audiences. Attack of the Clones earned ¥9.37 billion, about $58.9 million, in Japan in 2002, while Revenge of the Sith earned ¥9.17 billion, about $57.7 million, in 2005.

Hardcore fans debated the merits of characters like Jar Jar Binks and Jango Fett, but the prequels did not seem to create the same level of lasting backlash in Japan that they did in the United States. For many casual viewers, the prequels simply reintroduced Star Wars as a large-scale theatrical brand.

During this period, Star Wars also became more firmly embedded in Japan through licensed merchandise, character goods, and relentless brand partnerships. It made the jump between generations. Like Gundam or Godzilla, Star Wars became a pop culture name many Japanese people recognized even if they were not deeply invested in the full story.

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The Disney Era Has Been Complicated, but Not Toxic, in Japan

The Disney era made Japan’s relationship with Star Wars more uneven, but it did not erase the brand’s long-standing goodwill. The Force Awakens earned ¥11.63 billion, about $73.1 million, making it the top foreign film on Japan’s 2016 annual chart. The Last Jedi earned ¥7.51 billion, about $47.2 million, and The Rise of Skywalker earned ¥7.32 billion, about $46.0 million. Those numbers show a decline from the 2015 revival peak, but they also show that theatrical Star Wars remained commercially meaningful in Japan during the Disney sequels.

The Disney sequels also had critics in Japan, especially around the treatment of legacy characters such as Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, and Leia (RIP all of them). But the reaction did not develop into the same kind of vindictive culture war that had begun to consume American fandom. There are Japanese fans who dislike specific Disney-era projects, but the larger public conversation has not been defined by vocal and angry rejection of the brand as it seems to have overseas.

That difference may be one reason Japan remains useful to Disney as a Star Wars event market and when it needs a hug. The Star Wars Celebration Japan 2025 fan convention was held at Makuhari Messe in Chiba, returning to Japan after 17 years. Japanese business coverage reported that the event drew about 105,000 attendees from 125 countries and was the largest Celebration held outside the United States. (The video below gives a taste of the event uncomfortable, religious cult-like ambience.)

This does not mean every new Star Wars project is bulletproof in Japan, but it does mean the brand still operates with a base level of goodwill that has become scarce in its home country.

Disney+ Is Still the Unknown Factor

The Disney+ streaming service has been available in Japan since 2020. Disney does not publicly release detailed Japan viewing numbers for stay-at-home Star Wars streaming content such as The Mandalorian, Andor, or The Acolyte, so it is difficult to know how far those series have traveled beyond core fans (based on my observations, only a small number of die-hard Star Wars fans in Japan watch them).

That makes The Mandalorian and Grogu interesting as a theatrical test in Japan. The movie is based on a Disney+ series, but the Japanese opening weekend drew more than 430,000 admissions, and the two-week total passed 890,000 admissions. This suggests the audience for the new Star Wars film was not limited to hardcore streaming viewers, although the size of the broader casual audience is still unclear.

Grogu Gives Audiences a Clear Entry Point

The character of Grogu also gives the film an easy (possbily too easy) point of entry for people who may not follow Disney+ continuity or the full Star Wars timeline. In Japan, where character appeal often drives film marketing, merchandise, and casual audience awareness, that is not a small advantage.

Disney Japan has leaned into that directly, running a “Grogu Is Too Lovable” promotional campaign for The Mandalorian and Grogu built around user posts, illustrations, photos, and other fan-made tributes to the character.

Japanese viewer reactions point in the same direction. One viewer wrote on X that they had only seen the first six Star Wars films, but could still enjoy The Mandalorian and Grogu without understanding all of the larger background from the streaming products. Another called it a film that could be recommended to Star Wars beginners, from children to adults. A different viewer described it as the kind of movie that works for people who simply think, “I don’t know the background, but Grogu is cute.”

The Release Window Is Helping

The Mandalorian and Grogu is not currently facing a new domestic film in Japan on the level of a real blockbuster like Demon Slayer, Kokuho, or Detective Conan. Its second-weekend competition included strong holdovers such as The Super Mario Galaxy Movie and The Devil Wears Prada 2, but not a fresh local giant opening directly against it.

From my own experience at movie theaters around Tokyo, the current theatrical audience often appears weighted toward older viewers (possibly retirees with time to kill), couples, and dedicated movie maniacs, with younger viewers showing up more selectively these days. In that environment, Star Wars may still function as dependable big-screen entertainment in Japan. It may not be urgent for every viewer to run and see, but it is a familiar enough flavor to buy a ticket when visiting the cinema.

Michael Is the Next Major Test

Will the King of Pop moonwalk all over the Mandalorian? The Michael Jackson biopic, which has already proven to be a smash in the USA, opens soon in Japan on June 12. That release could cut into The Mandalorian and Grogu quickly. Decades after his death, Michael Jackson remains a powerful pop culture figure in Japan, and the 2009 concert documentary This Is It passed ¥5 billion, about $31.4 million, at the Japanese box office. That does not guarantee the new biopic will reach the same level. But it does mean Michael arrives with name recognition, broad appeal, nostalgia hooks, and older-audience reach. Those are exactly the areas where The Mandalorian and Grogu is currently benefiting.

Backrooms and Obsession have yet to debut in Japan, but they’re on the way. The media in Japan is already buzzing about their YouTube-born directors, but I would not automatically assume the same breakout success here. But hey, as the old showbiz saying goes, nobody knows anything.

For now, Star Wars remains, like Spinal Tap and any number of tired old heavy metal bands orphaned at home, “big in Japan.” But is that good enough to sustain an entire global franchise anymore?

Tokyo’s Shibuya ward is facing another major shift in 2026 as two longtime retail landmarks prepare to close. Hands Shibuya, formerly known as Tokyu Hands, announced on May 25 that its flagship Shibuya location will close in November. The store opened in September 1978 and became famous for its DIY goods, lifestyle items, roughly 100,000 products, and unusual skip-floor layout connected by 408 steps. The closure is tied to the end of its lease, and there are currently no plans to relocate the store.

The news follows the announcement that Seibu Shibuya will close at the end of September. Seibu Shibuya opened in 1968 near the Scramble Crossing and became a major symbol of the Sezon retail era, helping promote young designers and fashion culture in the 1980s and 1990s. For non-Japanese readers, Seibu is a major Japanese department store name, while Hands is a long-running lifestyle and hobby retailer known for tools, crafts, stationery, and unusual household goods.

Online Reactions Point to a Bigger Question

On X, many users responded with memories of the stores, but also with a deeper concern about Shibuya’s changing identity.

“As redevelopment moves forward, the things and elements that truly supported Shibuya’s unique culture are being lost one after another,” one user wrote. “It makes the idea that the city is dying because of capital feel more concrete. People treat it like a metropolis, but in reality, what made Shibuya Shibuya was a collection of small businesses and creative activity.”

Another user noticed changes inside Hands before the announcement. “I went to Hands Shibuya yesterday and there was no register on the floor, so I asked a staff member, ‘Did there used to be more?’ and they gave a wry smile and said, ‘We don’t have enough staff.’ The lease may be the trigger, but the nearby Loft has changed too.”

Another response captured the wider mood. “Seibu Shibuya closes in September, Hands Shibuya closes in November. Both are lease-related. I think cities should keep changing, but having these two stores disappear from Shibuya really is sad.”

The End of an Older Shibuya

For many Japanese shoppers, the closures feel like another step away from the Shibuya of the 1980s and 1990s. Seibu Shibuya was closely tied to the rise of designer fashion, including the broader boom around Comme des Garçons, Issey Miyake, Yohji Yamamoto, and other brands that helped define Japanese fashion’s global image.

Hands Shibuya carried a different kind of memory. “There was a live house called Shibuya Chelsea Hotel nearby, and I used to stop by before shows to kill time,” one user wrote. “There were so many stairs, and that was fun. It felt easy to get lost, but I liked how you could discover all kinds of things.”

Another user wrote, “When I was young, I went there several times. I still remember the inside of the store connected by all those stairs.”

The closures follow the 2020 shutdown of Tokyu Department Store Toyoko’s west and south wings, and the 2023 closure of Tokyu Department Store’s main Shibuya location after 56 years. With Seibu also leaving, it seems that Shibuya is losing the department store culture that once helped define the neighborhood.

Station Changes Also Reshaped the City

Some reactions focused less on the buildings and more on the infrastructure around them. One user wrote, “I feel like one reason for Shibuya’s decline was sending the Toyoko Line deep underground.”

Another wrote that Shibuya’s decline came from the major station renovations, adding that once either otaku shops like Mandarake or Animate disappear, they will have almost no reason to go there anymore.

The Tokyu Toyoko Line moved underground in 2013, allowing through service with the Tokyo Metro Fukutoshin Line. The change improved rail convenience, but it also altered how people moved through the area. For many longtime visitors, the old surface-level flow of foot traffic around the station was part of what made Shibuya feel alive.

Can Shibuya Still Be a Culture Hub?

Some users see the closures as part of a larger social change rather than a Shibuya-only problem. “Shibuya keeps losing distinctive cultural commercial facilities,” one user wrote. “With fewer young people because of the declining birthrate and rents getting higher, Shibuya can’t go back to being a source of culture and trends. All we can do is watch it decline.”

Another user offered a darker but more resigned view. “Hands is disappearing, Seibu is disappearing, movie theaters and theaters are disappearing, and foreigners are flooding Don Quijote and Uniqlo. Shibuya keeps getting poorer. But maybe that is also Shibuya-like in its own way.”

That last idea points to the tension at the heart of the debate. Shibuya has always changed. But many online reactions suggest that change feels different when unique stores and local culture are replaced by the same large-scale commercial spaces found everywhere else.

What Made Shibuya Feel Like Shibuya?

“Seibu is disappearing from Shibuya, and Hands is disappearing too. On that side, I guess all that is left is Parco and Tower Records. It’s going to feel lonely,” one user wrote.

Another wrote, “At the start of the year, I never imagined Seibu and Hands would both disappear from Shibuya. The city is going to become even more boring than it already is.”

Major redevelopment is still moving forward. Shibuya Sakura Stage and Shibuya Axsh opened in 2024, the Shibuya Upper West Project at the former Tokyu Department Store main location is planned as a 34-story complex scheduled for completion in fiscal 2029, and the second phase of Shibuya Scramble Square is expected to fully open in fiscal 2031. But new buildings do not automatically make a neighborhood more interesting.

One user summed up the anxiety simply: “I don’t want it to become a commercial facility like anywhere else.”

That may be the question now facing Shibuya in 2026. After Seibu and Hands disappear, can the neighborhood keep offering the kind of experiences people can only find there?

Vintage kaiju toys are reaching astonishing new prices in Japan, and one veteran collector is warning that the booming market has also created a darker world of counterfeits and speculation. The toys in question are soft vinyl figures, especially the colorful monster toys tied to tokusatsu shows and films from the 1960s and 1970s.

At a Mandarake collector’s auction held in March, several Showa-era monster figures sold for prices that stunned collectors. Takkong sold for ¥4.1 million, or about $25,800. Sabotendar reached ¥9 million, or about $56,600. Peguila sold for ¥13.6 million, or about $85,600. The biggest surprise was Garamon, which sold for ¥29.9 million, or about $188,000. Many of these toys originally sold for only a few hundred yen in the 1960s and 1970s. The Garamon figure was from Marusan’s early “first-period” production run, already a famous collector’s item, but the near-¥30 million price pushed it into another world entirely.

Inside Nabe Yakan’s Collection Room

FRIDAY magazine spoke with entertainer Nabe Yakan, known as one of the world’s top kaiju toy collectors. His shelves are packed with vintage Ultra monsters, Godzilla kaiju, and figures from makers including Marusan, Bullmark, Bandai, Popy, and M1-Go. Looking at pieces from his own collection, Yakan said, “This Godzilla is probably around ¥1 million. Mechagodzilla is also ¥1 million, and Kanegon is probably about ¥500,000.” That is roughly $6,300 each for Godzilla and Mechagodzilla, and about $3,100 for Kanegon.

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What Changed the Market?

Yakan said the market had once seemed like it might cool down as older collectors began passing away or selling off their collections. Instead, COVID changed the direction of the hobby. “The pandemic changed everything,” Yakan said. He explained that people spent more time online and began discovering the visual appeal of soft vinyl toys through social media. “SNS, and Instagram in particular, made a lot of people aware of how photogenic soft vinyl figures can be,” Yakan said. He also pointed to the rise of indie makers creating new original figures inspired by the old Marusan and Bullmark style, adding, “That helped connect soft vinyl popularity to the idea of soft vinyl as art.”

Fakes Enter the Collector World

As prices rise, so does the risk. Yakan said some rare Bullmark-style figures that were once considered almost mythical suddenly began appearing in large numbers. “Most of them were fakes,” he said. According to Yakan, some counterfeits are made in Japan, while others are produced in China. Some are repainted and sold as “rare colors” or “unreleased sample colors.” Others are artificially scratched or aged, assembled from cleaner parts, or even marked with names in pen to imitate childhood wear. “Popular vintage toys outside monster soft vinyl figures, like Popy Chogokin and Jumbo Machinder items, are in the same kind of situation,” Yakan said.

Overseas Demand Pushes Prices Higher

The problem is becoming harder to spot because some older fakes are now showing real signs of age. “Pieces that have changed with age are starting to blend into the market,” Yakan said. He said online auctions and general recycle shops have made the situation worse because many sellers cannot properly authenticate what they are handling. “There are shops where several fakes are lined up,” Yakan said. “Sometimes they come with wording like, ‘We don’t know the details, but this came out of an old family storehouse.’” He also noted that overseas collectors have helped push prices even higher. “More overseas collectors have entered the market, and it feels like one extra zero has been added to the prices,” Yakan said. “It has become a world where even we can’t buy them anymore.”

Even the famous “old toy smell” is not always reliable. Collectors often say vintage figures have a distinctive scent because of the materials used at the time, but Yakan warned that the smell can transfer when old and new toys are stored together. He worries that real expertise is fading. “In another ten years, there may be almost no one left who can really tell what is genuine,” Yakan said.

Collect the Toy, Not the Price Tag

Still, his advice to new collectors is not to chase prices. “It’s fine if the amazing prices get people interested,” Yakan said. “But instead of choosing based on whether something might rise in price, I hope people pick up reissues, current releases, or whatever they personally find cute, cool, or beautiful.”

You can hear the full episode by joining the ⁠⁠⁠Pure TokyoScope Patreon⁠⁠⁠!

Join the ⁠⁠Pure TokyoScope Patreon⁠⁠!

You’ll get access to the full episode, bonus content, our Discord server, and an archive of past episodes. ⁠⁠Head over to Pure TokyoScope Patreon to subscribe today!⁠⁠⁠⁠

SHOW NOTES

Prime Minister Takaichi Voice Acrylic Stand Adds Recorded Messages to LDP Convention Giveaway

Japan begins selling lethal weapons after lifting of ban

2-XL by Mego Commercial (1978)

TOEI Launches TOEI Games and Sets April 24 Lineup Reveal

Sanrio launches gaming brand, tapping fast-growing global market

Trailer for Sonny Chiba’s The Bodyguard

Japanese government wants overseas anime market to roughly triple in 10 years, but are they crazy?

Japanese Fire Sergeant Suspended After Forcing Coworkers to Play Homemade Board Games on Duty

50 Cent: Blood on the Sand (2009)

Show Sponsor: Hibachi Express

Sign up for the Pure TokyoScope Patreon! You’ll get access to full episodes, bonus video content, our Discord server, and an archive of past episodes.

Head over to the TokyoScope Podcast Patreon to subscribe today!

Join the ⁠⁠Pure TokyoScope Patreon⁠⁠!

You’ll get access to the full episode, bonus content, our Discord server, and an archive of past episodes. ⁠⁠Head over to Pure TokyoScope Patreon to subscribe today!⁠⁠⁠⁠

SHOW NOTES

On sale now! The WANDERING GINZA BUTTERFLY collection from Arrow Video (audio commentary and video extras from Pat and Matt!)

The amazing Meiko Kaji with her own copy of the new WANDERING GINZA BUTTERFLY collection!

Lensman Brittania II by TOMY (1984)

Lensman toy commercials by TOMY

Emmanuel Lewis Doll by TAKARA (1981) 18,000 JPY at Mandarake hen-ya

City Connection, 1981

Capsule Robo G by Nakajima (1973), 275,000 JPY at Mandarake hen-ya

Capsule Robo G Missile Hands

Love is Dan Dan by Emmanuel Lewis, 1981

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After Masayoshi Osaka’s recent PRESIDENT Online piece argued that Shibuya no longer feels like Tokyo’s youth capital, a counterpoint has now appeared from travel writer Toraberu Jana (“Let’s go on a trip”) via Yahoo! Japan. Writing under the headline “Is It Really True That Shibuya Has Become a ‘Boring Town’?”, he agrees that the district has changed, but rejects the idea that it has become empty or not worth visiting. Instead, he argues that Shibuya still rewards people who move beyond its most obvious landmarks and look more carefully at what remains on the ground.

His central idea is that the problem may not be Shibuya alone, but how people are approaching it. Near the end, he writes that when people say the district has become boring, it likely comes from “not stepping in deeply enough” and from the fact that their own sensibilities “no longer react to material aimed at young people.”

Looking Beyond the Biggest Buildings

One of the new article’s clearest arguments is that Shibuya can look generic if you only judge it by the biggest station-front projects. Toraberu Jana says the view that the district is nothing but chain stores and expensive shops seems to come mainly from looking at the “three big buildings,” naming Scramble Square, Hikarie, and Sakura Stage as the main reference points. Outside of that zone, he argues, “there are still plenty of new discoveries to be made.”

That is the key difference from the earlier critique. Instead of saying redevelopment has erased Shibuya, he says too many people are stopping at the most obvious parts of the neighborhood and mistaking that for the whole.

Small Finds Still Matter

To make that case, the article narrows in on four examples: a British import shop, Miyashita Park, Tower Records Shibuya, and Hyakkendana. The point is not that Shibuya has avoided commercialization, but that the district still contains pockets of specificity, curiosity, and mixed character.

A British shop on Miyamasuzaka is one such example. The author noticed it partly because of its semi-basement location, noting that these less prominent spaces often have more favorable rents. From there, he uses the shop to push back on the idea that Shibuya has become all chains and nothing else. As he puts it, “the view that Shibuya is ‘nothing but chains’ or ‘nothing but expensive shops’” does not really hold up once you look beyond the biggest redevelopment cores.

Miyashita Park Gets a More Mixed Reading

The earlier article treated Miyashita Park as a prime example of public space turned into commercial space. This new piece takes a more mixed view. Toraberu Jana still acknowledges the costs of redevelopment, including the fact that people who once used the old park as a place to sleep were pushed out. But he also points to design choices and actual use on the ground that complicate the picture.

He praises the central staircase because people can reach the rooftop park “without passing through the shops,” calling that a considerate piece of design. He also notes that even around lunchtime on a weekday, there were still empty benches on the rooftop, making it easier to credit the park as a usable public space rather than just a branded backdrop.

At the same time, he gives weight to the survival of nearby Nonbei Yokocho, where he saw foreign tourists drifting in from Miyashita Park. That older strip helps support his broader point that redevelopment and older street texture are still existing side by side in Shibuya.

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Tower Records Shows That Culture Has Changed, Not Vanished

Tower Records Shibuya becomes another test case. The author admits that parts of the store feel thinner than before and that the decline of CDs is real. But he does not read that as proof of cultural collapse. Instead, he argues that the store has adapted to newer forms of fandom, display culture, and collectible value.

This leads to one of the article’s more interesting observations: the feeling that Shibuya has gotten dull may reflect age and changing taste as much as urban decline. He suggests that the idea of a boring Shibuya may come partly from the fact that people have accumulated more life experience and “the things that stimulate them have decreased.”

Foreign Visitors May Stand Out More Than They Dominate

The article also pushes back on the idea that Shibuya has become nothing but foreign tourists. It acknowledges that overseas visitors are highly visible, especially around the scramble crossing, but argues that they may appear more dominant partly because total foot traffic has fallen from earlier peaks. In his words, the reality is that “the number of people in Shibuya has simply decreased, making foreign tourists look proportionally more numerous.”

He adds that while the actual number of foreign visitors has certainly risen, it is “nowhere near enough to fill the town.” That is an important correction to the image of Shibuya as completely overtaken.

Tokyu and Seibu Helped Build the Shibuya People Are Still Arguing About

A short history lesson: In the 1970s, Shibuya became the stage for a quiet but important struggle between Tokyu and Seibu, two retail giants with very different ideas about what the district could be. Tokyu already controlled the most valuable ground around the station, the bottom of Shibuya’s bowl-shaped terrain. But after Tokyu founder Keita Goto died, Seibu began pushing in from the north side, buying up former movie theater sites and opening the A and B wings of Seibu Department Store in 1968 (now set to close in September 2026). It was a bold move in a cramped, uneven part of town that did not seem ideal for a department store, which made Seibu’s expansion feel even more aggressive.

Seibu kept going. In 1973 it opened PARCO partway up the slope, then gradually filled in the surrounding area with more retail aimed at younger shoppers and families just beginning to gain spending power. Tokyu had long held the higher-end side of Shibuya, but Seibu moved after a rising youth market and helped redefine the district in the process. Fashion trends like amekaji and later shibukaji reflected that shift, bringing in a cleaner, more aspirational youth style built around imported American looks, jeans, and navy blazers.

That competition helped make Shibuya into something bigger than a shopping district. Big capital held the station area and the lower slopes, more experimental stores filled the middle ground, and quieter spaces like Yoyogi Park gave the area breathing room beyond the retail crush. The Yahoo! Japan article argues that Shibuya was never a fixed or pure thing to begin with. It was built through rivalry, reinvention, and changing tastes, which makes today’s version feel less like the end of Shibuya than another stage in its long habit of remaking itself.

Shibuya is Shibuya

By the end, the article’s conclusion is simple and direct. “Shibuya is Shibuya,” Toraberu Jana writes. It may no longer produce new shops “like bamboo shoots after rain,” and some of its old youth-driven momentum may be harder to find, but he still sees it as a district worth visiting again and again. In that reading, Shibuya has changed, but it has not stopped being itself.

Japanese fashion brand MIKIOSAKABE, known for its playful and often otherworldly approach to footwear design, has introduced a new line of shoes featuring a newly developed outsole called Bounce. The launch includes online pre-orders through April 26, along with special order events at GoOn TOKYO from April 10 to 12 and at SOCIAL TOKYO from April 25 to 26. Deliveries are planned for August through October 2026.

The new Bounce outsole combines a thin TPU structure, a rubber sole designed to support walking, and a distinctive midsole construction that aims to balance visual impact with everyday function. In other words, these are shoes built to stand out while still being wearable.

The collection includes Bounce Confusing, priced at ¥77,000 ($510), which combines the new outsole with MIKIOSAKABE’s signature Confusing shoe design. It will be available in black, red, and turquoise. Also joining the lineup is Bounce Tortoise, priced at ¥71,500 ($475), a new embossed model that will be offered in black and khaki.

MIKIOSAKABE is one of the more recognizable names in Japanese fashion when it comes to sculptural, statement-heavy shoes that blur the line between fashion design and character-like object design. This new release continues that approach, with the Bounce sole serving as both a technical feature and a major part of the look.

MIKIOSAKABE’s new Bounce shoes also arrive with some history behind them. Earlier models like Jewelry and New Jewelry helped make the label a standout in Harajuku thanks to their oversized, sculptural soles and instantly recognizable silhouette. That same design lineage later expanded through grounds and styles like MOOPIE, helping turn Mikio Sakabe’s footwear into one of the more distinctive presences in Tokyo-based street style.

Fans interested in ordering can check the official MIKIOSAKABE site, while Tokyo-area shoppers will also have a chance to see the shoes in person at the upcoming order events.

Shibuya is still one of Tokyo’s most recognizable neighborhoods, but a recent article in PRESIDENT Online argues that it no longer feels like the same place. Writer Masayoshi Osaka, manager of the urban exploration site Tokyo Deep Annai, says the district once known as a youth culture center is gradually losing the identity that made it special, worn down by large-scale redevelopment and a surge in foreign tourism. In his view, Shibuya has become less raw, less strange, and less unmistakably itself.

His complaint is not that Shibuya has become less active. It is that it has become less distinct. Osaka writes that many rebuilt parts of Tokyo now feel like “Kintaro-ame,” a Japanese candy known for producing the same face no matter where you cut it. In other words, every new development looks and feels the same.

Glass Towers Have Replaced Much of the Old Texture

Osaka points to the major redevelopment projects clustered around Shibuya Station, including Shibuya Scramble Square, which opened in 2019, Shibuya Stream in 2018, and Shibuya Sakura Stage in 2023. He argues that these projects have surrounded the station area with shiny high-rises that create a “strange sense of uniformity,” replacing the neighborhood’s older patchwork identity with something smoother and more corporate.

He is especially blunt about the kind of businesses these projects attract. Because developers prioritize profitability, he argues, only large, well-capitalized tenants can move in, and that usually means chain stores. The result is a cityscape that may look new but feels interchangeable.

Miyashita Park stands out as one of his clearest examples. Once known as a straightforward public park in central Shibuya, it was rebuilt as a commercial complex with a rooftop green space. Osaka’s verdict is harsh: “It feels like a park, but not a park.” He argues that by wrapping the lower levels in retail and limiting the ways people can calmly relax there, the redevelopment stripped away the simplicity that made it work as a public space in the first place.

A Rail Change Helped Turn Shibuya Into a Place People Pass Through

One of Osaka’s most persuasive points has less to do with architecture than transit. On March 16, 2013, Tokyu’s Toyoko Line moved from its old above-ground Shibuya Station into a new underground platform and began through-service with the Tokyo Metro Fukutoshin Line. That meant passengers no longer had to get off in Shibuya. They could continue directly on to other major hubs.

Osaka sees that as a turning point. In the old setup, Toyoko Line riders spilled directly into Shibuya’s shopping streets and entertainment zones. After the switch, it became much easier to keep riding to places like Shinjuku and Ikebukuro. He sums it up bluntly: “Shibuya changed into a town people simply pass through.”

That shift may sound technical, but in Tokyo, station layout shapes neighborhood life in a very real way. Shibuya lost some of its built-in gravitational pull the moment fewer people were forced to emerge there.

Tourist Crowds Changed the Mood Around the Crossing

Another major factor is inbound tourism. Osaka notes that foreign visitor numbers to Japan rose from about 10.36 million in 2013 to about 42.68 million in 2025, roughly quadrupling over twelve years. In Shibuya, the most obvious symbol of that shift is the scramble crossing, which has become one of Tokyo’s best-known sightseeing spots.

The crossing looks impossible and orderly at the same time, with huge crowds moving in every direction without crashing into one another. But he argues that the concentration of visitors around Hachiko Square and the station front has changed the atmosphere of the district. Shibuya is now crowded in a different way: not always because people are deeply engaging with the neighborhood, but because it has become a global photo stop.

That crowding has also brought tension. Osaka mentions unpleasant pedestrian incidents such as a foreign tourist’s child being tackled and knocked flying by a so-called “bumping woman” while crossing the scramble intersection. Some people now feel there is less reason to go out of their way to visit Shibuya, especially when other parts of Tokyo offer denser shopping and entertainment options.

The Older Shibuya Was Dirtier, Stranger, and More Human

What gives Osaka’s piece some force is that he is not praising a refined lost paradise. The Shibuya he remembers was messier, seedier, and often uncomfortable. Away from the main roads, he remembers Shibuya in 2007 as a place packed with love hotels, strip theaters, adult businesses, and narrow sloped backstreets in areas like Dogenzaka, Hyakkendana, and Maruyamacho. He calls it a “waisatsu” space, meaning vulgar, disorderly, and slightly dirty.

One of the most evocative parts of the piece comes when he describes old Shibuya as a place that stirred the imagination. Couples disappearing into narrow alleyways, human drama unfolding on slopes and side streets, a feeling that the city still had corners you were not meant to fully understand. It was, as he puts it, a place with a real “human smell.”

From Delinquent Car Culture to Halloween Chaos

Osaka also reminds readers that older Shibuya was shaped by a different kind of crowd long before the tourism boom. Around Dogenzaka, he says, you were more likely to see rough-looking youth from places like Atsugi or Saitama, arriving in flashy cars or drifting in by train, than foreign visitors.

That loose, unruly energy later fed into Shibuya’s Halloween reputation. By the mid-2010s, the area had become nationally famous for wild costume crowds and disruptive street partying, especially in Center-gai. Osaka notes that this behavior was effectively curbed after 2023, and that attitudes hardened further after both the pandemic and the 2022 Itaewon crowd crush in Seoul.

Seen from a distance, those Halloween crowds could almost make Shibuya still look like a “youth town.” But once disorder loses its boundaries, it starts feeling dangerous. In his view, that kind of atmosphere may also have helped push more ordinary visitors away.

For Osaka, the deeper problem is not just redevelopment or tourism, but the slow erosion of identity. Shibuya was once valued as a place where you could encounter a side of Tokyo that felt vivid, unpredictable, and unmistakably local. Now, he wonders where the district’s old pull has gone.

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SHOW NOTES

Wandering Ginza Butterfly Arrow Blu-ray review (Pat and Matt provided extras)

Cherry Blossom Viewing Scenes from the Megruo River, 2026 ("Don’t stop here”)

Dragon Ball Ending Would Cause ‘Economic Problems’ Confirms Series Creators & Producers

Seibu Department Store in Tokyo’s Shibuya to Close In Late September After 58 Years

Woody Allen Japanese Commercials for Seibu

A Piece of Japan’s Grindhouse Movie Culture Is Closing in Osaka After 76 Years

The seats inside the Shinsekai Kokusai Gekijo

Gojira-Ya Closes Down… and Reopens!

Kimono My House TV Commercial Circa 1980s

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Rising repair costs, aging equipment, and a changing Shinsekai neighborhood helped bring the curtain down.

A long-running piece of Osaka movie culture is about to disappear. The Shinsekai Kokusai Gekijo, aka “New World International Theater” in Naniwa Ward will close on March 31, ending a 76-year run at a cinema that stood out for its retro exterior, hand-painted marquee signs, and old-school all-night programming. For years, the theater offered triple features for just 1,000 yen ($6.26), with a mix of second-run foreign films on the first floor and adult films in the basement level.

A Theater That Was Part of the Neighborhood’s Daily Life

The building began life in 1930 as the Osaka Nanyo Enbujo theater. Its Art Deco design, marked by round windows and wave-like detailing, survived the war and the building was reopened as a movie theater in 1950. Located near Kamagasaki, the area once drew large numbers of day laborers, and Kokusai Theater became more than just a place to watch movies. It was somewhere people could spend the night, meet others, and pass the time.

Manager Kazuhiko Tomioka, 58, who has been connected to the theater since his 30s, looked back on its final days with obvious emotion. “The Kokusai Theater was part of my life. I can’t just neatly come to terms with it,” he said.

He also reflected on how much the area around it has changed. “The scenery of the town changed, and it fulfilled its role,” Tomioka said.

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The Kind of Place Where Its Regulars Became Part of the Story

Tomioka recalled that in earlier years, some customers would get drunk and start fights, and he sometimes had to intervene himself. Even so, the theater had its own rough warmth. He remembered times when “two customers who grabbed each other by the collar and went outside came back in as friends,” a story that says a lot about the kind of place it was.

Regular customer Kosei Miyake said the theater offered something that went beyond the screen. “It wasn’t just about movies. There were human encounters here too. The people who came here, even without a script, became like a movie themselves. It was a place where stories were made,” Miyake said.

The Last Picture Show

The theater reopened after a temporary shutdown during the pandemic, but the surrounding neighborhood kept changing. As more businesses aimed at foreign tourists moved in, longtime regulars grew older and fewer in number. The building itself also continued to age, and the costs of repairs, along with the need to replace projection equipment, became too much to ignore.

Tomioka noted the mixed result of those local changes. “It became safer, but… it’s been bleached out and turned into a clean town,” he said.

The final screening will be Avatar: Fire and Ash on March 31 at 6:50 p.m. The land and building have already been sold and are scheduled to be handed over in May. As for what should happen next, Tomioka was blunt: “Of course I’d rather they kept it, but this building was made to be a theater. Rather than leaving only the shape behind and turning it into a dead building, I want them to tear it down completely.”

Koenji’s reputation as one of Tokyo’s top vintage neighborhoods is increasing. According to local shop owners, the area’s number of used clothing stores has continued to grow through 2026, giving the district fresh momentum at a time when similar excitement elsewhere, namely Shimokitazawa, has started to level off.

That growth is helping shape a bigger vision for the neighborhood. Some local retailers now see Koenji as one of the next places likely to define Tokyo fashion culture. And in Koenji, that fashion identity is not limited to vintage alone. Shops are also mixing in avant-garde labels, overseas appeal, and a broader sense of street-level creativity.

Koenji Wants to Be More Than Just a Vintage Shopping Area

For some store owners, the goal is not simply to keep adding more used clothing shops. They want Koenji to develop into a more artistic district where long-established businesses and newer arrivals support each other, and where fashion connects naturally with music, comedy, and other subcultures already embedded in the area.

That same idea is showing up in public events. Koenji Pal Shopping Street, the arcade running south from JR Koenji Station toward Ome-kaido, recently held Spring Pal Festival 2026 and included a fashion show built around participating neighborhood stores. Organizers are using fashion as part of a larger effort to energize the local shopping street at a time when many such districts across Japan are under pressure.

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A Local Runway Show Helps Push Koenji’s Fashion Identity Forward

The shopping street association has now staged the runway event for the second year in a row. Framing Koenji as a “Fashion Special Zone,” organizers used this year’s concept, “Walk as You Are,” to promote the neighborhood as a place where individuality can stand out and where people can express themselves freely.

Seven stores joined the show: LittleBrothers, Little Trip to Heaven, PARA, Daikokuya, Higan, Furugiya Odoriba, and Matakiso. Each brought its own aesthetic, creating a more personal and neighborhood-driven presentation than a standard fashion runway.

Shop Owners Say Koenji Still Feels Open, Relaxed, and Full Of Style

That sense of individuality is part of what local retailers say makes Koenji special. Yuka Ishida of Little Trip to Heaven called it “a neighborhood with lots of people who wear the clothes they like, the way they like.” She also said that in Koenji, “there are lots of people who don’t hold back their desire to wear cute clothes and are willing to try flashy items.” Her shop, which also operates in Shimokitazawa and Kyoto, specializes in vintage clothing and original women’s items with a European flea market feel.

The owners of Higan, opened in Koenji in 2022 by Riichi Miyamoto and Ryunosuke Osaki, described the neighborhood in similarly direct terms. They said Koenji as a whole feels “laid-back in a good way,” giving them a comfort level that feels almost like being back in their hometowns. They also pointed to how music, comedy, and other forms of culture are deeply rooted there, and to the way many different kinds of fashion naturally coexist on the streets, from young people dressed in cutting-edge trends to older residents with an effortlessly stylish look.

Looking further ahead, Miyamoto said, “I want Koenji to develop even more as a fashion town.” He and Osaki envision not just more vintage shops, but a more artistic neighborhood where older stores and newer ones work together and where fashion, music, and other cultures come together. They also said they want the fashion show, over the next decade or so, to grow into something large enough to stand alongside Koenji’s Awa Odori festival.

Japan’s old-school Snack (スナック), small neighborhood drinking spots centered on conversation, karaoke, and the personality of the owner, are getting an unlikely 21st century upgrade. Once more numerous than convenience stores, these venues peaked at around 120,000 locations in the 1990s and still number roughly 45,000 today. But aging customers, fewer company drinking parties, inflation, labor costs, and the pandemic have all put pressure on the business. Now, a new wave of operators and tech entrepreneurs is betting that digitization could help keep the culture going for a new generation.

What a Japanese Snack Is, and What It Is Not

A Snack is not a Western-style snack bar, and it is not simply a bar that serves chips or finger food. In Japan, Snacks are small nightlife establishments where guests drink, sing karaoke, and talk with the owner or staff, often in a cozy, highly personal setting. Many are run by a woman known as a mama, a familiar term for the female proprietor who sets the tone of the place, remembers regulars, and often acts as host, confidante, and social connector all at once.

The format is said to have taken shape after changes to Japan’s entertainment business laws around the time of the 1964 Tokyo Olympics, when some venues began serving light food, or snacks, alongside alcohol. Over time, Snacks spread nationwide as after-hours hangouts, local gathering places, and reliable second or third stops late at night.

Why Japan’s Snack Business Is Under Pressure

Even with a footprint comparable to Japan’s convenience store sector, the business has been contracting for years. An estimated 10,000 Snacks shut down during the COVID era alone, based on estimates from the All Japan Snack Federation. After that, the recovery has been uneven. Fewer office drinking parties, an older customer base, and rising operating costs have made it harder for many shops to survive.

That has created an opening for entrepreneur Yuzo Sekiya, described in the story as a Reiwa-era hitmaker because of earlier business successes including bringing the popular Taiwanese cafe chain Chun Shui Tang to Japan and helping ignite the country’s tapioca boom. In 2024, Sekiya launched Snack Technologies and raised a total of 130 million yen (about $870,000) to build a platform app called Sunateku. His broader target is a legacy nightlife market he values at 8 trillion yen, or about $53.3 billion.

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The Pitch: Make Snacks Easier to Enter and Easier to Trust

Sekiya’s central argument is simple. A lot of people are curious about Snacks, but many never go because the format feels intimidating. Heavy doors, unfamiliar house rules, lots of regulars, and vague pricing can all make first-time visitors nervous. According to a survey, around 70% in Japan of people have never used a Snack. Sekiya says, “The biggest barrier to attracting new customers is a lack of information.” He adds, “Around 70% of people have never used a Snack, and the difficulty of opening the door to a Snack for the first time, the large number of regulars, and the fact that many places still have unclear pricing systems are what keep people from coming in.” He also says, “For regulars, it is an extremely comfortable place, but for first-time visitors to jump in and discover the appeal of a Snack, there are many hurdles.”

Sunateku is designed to reduce that uncertainty. The app supports member registration, cashless payments, digital receipts, and customer management. It also shows store interiors, interview videos with the mama, and even nicknames of current visitors in real time for registered users. That means customers can check how busy a place is before heading over, or decide whether they want to join a certain crowd or avoid it. For a business built on personal chemistry, that kind of visibility is being framed as a new form of psychological safety.

The platform also includes a feature called Sunabomb, essentially a tipping or gifting function that lets users send drinks to staff or even buy champagne for other customers through the app. People can also support a venue remotely when they cannot visit in person. In other words, it borrows digital behavior patterns familiar to younger users and applies them to a very analog style of nightlife.

Tokyo and Rural Japan Both See a Future in Digital Snacks

In Tokyo’s Shinbashi district, Saori Yoshida of BAR BRIDGE said, “The moment I saw Sunateku, I thought, ‘This will absolutely be a tool that strengthens the sense of unity in the shop.’” During the pandemic, Yoshida had already used livestream tipping and crowdfunding to stay connected with regulars and protect staff livelihoods, so she views digital tools as a natural next step rather than a threat to the atmosphere. Yoshida also said, “There may be customers who hold back on drinking if you clearly show the pricing details, but these days it is more important to let people have a good time with transparent accounting and come back again.”

In rural Yamagata Prefecture, Natsumi Ito of Lounge Eagle. sees similar potential. Her venue is located in Akayu, a hot spring area in Nanyo City, and serves many local business owners. Ito says, “A local Snack is a place that connects people, and a mentor-like presence where you can listen to the stories of business owners.” She also says customer management tools are especially useful because remembering names and habits is difficult when you are trying to build repeat business in a shrinking local market.

Ito also represents another modern twist on the format. During the pandemic, she taught herself video editing and social media, posting clips on Instagram and TikTok that eventually helped her reach a combined following of 100,000. Around 20% of her customers now come from outside the prefecture, and her influence has grown to the point that lounge vouchers are even being used as gifts in Japan’s furusato nozei system, a hometown tax donation program in which contributors support regional municipalities in exchange for local rewards.

For Sekiya, the long-term goal is not just saving a fading nightlife format. It is turning Snacks into a new kind of community infrastructure, much the way local shops once evolved into convenience store networks. Whether that vision catches on nationwide remains to be seen. But in a country where loneliness, aging, and regional decline are all major social concerns, the idea of making these intimate social spaces easier to find, easier to trust, and easier to join has real value.

Japan’s convenience store sandwiches are already famous around the world thanks to staples like the egg sando, but 7-Eleven Japan’s newest release is heading in a much new direction. The latest item in the chain’s Yokubari Sand series, the Chocolate Sprinkles & Whipped Cream Sandwich, is drawing attention for its playful look: fluffy sakura-colored bread filled with whipped cream and colorful chocolate sprinkles.

Japanese social media users have responded with a mix of delight and disbelief, with comments along the lines of “This is incredible,” “What even is this?” and “It looks dangerous,” in the best possible way. The overall feeling seems to be that this is the kind of over-the-top sweet sandwich kids dream about.

According to 7-Eleven, the sandwich uses soft sakura-colored bread layered with plenty of whipped cream and multicolored chocolate sprinkles. The company says the appeal comes from the contrast between the moist bread and cream and the crisp texture of the chocolate.

From Egg Sando Classic to Sweet Sandwich Spectacle

The Chocolate Sprinkles & Whipped Cream Sandwich is priced at 198 yen ($1.31 USD) before tax, or 213.84 yen ($1.42 USD) including tax, and will begin rolling out across Japan on March 31, excluding Okinawa. With its springlike color palette and dessert-shop energy, it is being promoted as a good match for cherry blossom season or tea time.

The Chocolate Sprinkles & Whipped Cream Sandwich had already started making the rounds online during test sales, and that early response reportedly helped push it toward a wider national release. With a look that feels closer to candy-store fantasy than standard convenience store fare, it seems likely to keep attracting attention once it officially arrives.

In other words, if you have ever wanted a sandwich that looks like it was designed by a child with unlimited dessert privileges, 7-Eleven Japan may have just delivered.

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SHOW NOTES

G.I. Samurai Limited Edition Blu-ray from Arrow Video (featuring video extras with Matt)

G.I. Samurai Blu-ray Collector's Edition from Umbrella Entertainment (featuring movie audio commentary by Patrick)

White Day in Japan

Oil Shock 3.0: As Middle East tensions drive up gas prices, will Japan’s utility bills follow?

Supermarket riots during the 1970s Oil Shock in Japan

Kyodain Jumbo Machinder (Oil Shock era at left) next to Great Mazinger Jumbo Machinder (pre-Oil Shock at right)

The Kentucky Fried Movie - Recycling Crude Oil From Teenagers’ Faces (1977)

Sign at NAT Records in Shimokitazawa, Tokyo

Galaxy Express 999 Voice Actress and Music Composer Pass Away

Masako Ikeda (1939-2026)

Maetel being “a little cougar-like” in the 999 movie

Mother of Ultra (voiced by Masako Ikeda)

Mr. Yunioshi in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” (1961)

Nozomi Aoki (1931-2026)

Symphonic Poem Galaxy Express 999 LP by Nozomi Aoki

Galaxy Express - Radio Spots 1980 - New World Pictures

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Analog Tools Still Common in Japanese Schools

A new survey by Japan’s Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology (MEXT) reveals that many schools continue to rely on older administrative tools even as the government promotes digital reform.

According to the study, 71.7% of public elementary and junior high schools reported using fax machines as part of their daily workflow. Meanwhile, 91.0% said certain documents must still be stamped with a hanko, the personal seal traditionally used in Japan in place of signatures.

The survey was conducted in November and December 2025 and gathered responses from 28,049 schools nationwide, representing a response rate of 98.6%. More than seven out of ten Japanese public schools still rely on fax machines for everyday operations.

Government Target Still Far Away

While the numbers have improved slightly compared to the previous year, progress remains gradual. Fax usage declined by 5.1 percentage points, and the share of schools requiring stamped documents fell 1.9 points.

In 2023, the government announced a policy calling for the principle abolition of fax communication and stamped paperwork in schools by fiscal 2025 as part of broader work-style reforms aimed at reducing administrative burdens on teachers.

Officials say implementation varies widely across regions, and many schools must coordinate with outside organizations that still rely on paper-based systems. Japan’s plan to eliminate fax and mandatory stamping in schools by 2025 remains far from reality.

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Why Fax and Stamps Remain

The ministry explains that fax machines are frequently used when communicating with local vendors and contractors, where older systems remain common. Stamped paperwork also remains standard on materials sent to parents, including report cards and forms where families indicate students’ future educational preferences.

Because these procedures involve parents and local institutions, individual schools often cannot eliminate the practices on their own. Many school procedures still depend on parents and local institutions that expect traditional paper documents.

Digital Changes Are Slowly Appearing

Despite the persistence of analog tools, several digital initiatives are gradually spreading. More than 84.2% of schools now allow parents to report student absences through mobile devices or online systems, while 70.5% use cloud platforms to conduct parent surveys.

Some schools have also begun experimenting with generative AI for administrative work, though adoption remains relatively limited at 17.2%. Digital tools that simplify communication with parents are emerging as the most successful area of reform.

Taken together, the results suggest Japan’s school digitalization is progressing in incremental steps rather than sweeping transformation, with practical communication tools gaining traction first while longstanding administrative traditions fade more slowly.

ChatGPT Expands Into Fashion Discovery

Japanese fashion e-commerce company ZOZO has launched a new integration with OpenAI’s ChatGPT, becoming the first fashion brand to connect its services to the platform’s new “Apps in ChatGPT” feature.

To use the service, ChatGPT users search for “ZOZO” in the ChatGPT app directory and follow the on-screen instructions to link the service. Once connected, users can type “@ZOZO” at the beginning of a message to activate the feature and request outfit ideas or clothing recommendations.

The system effectively turns ChatGPT into a conversational fashion assistant that can suggest styles based on a user’s request.

Addressing a Common Fashion Search Problem

The partnership aims to solve a challenge many shoppers face when searching for clothing online: having a clear visual idea of what they want but struggling to describe it in words.

According to research conducted by ZOZO, about 90 percent of consumers search for fashion inspiration through social media or websites. However, roughly 70 percent say they have difficulty putting their desired style into words, making traditional keyword searches frustrating.

Through conversational interaction, ChatGPT can help users refine vague requests such as “something like this” or “casual but stylish” and translate them into specific outfit suggestions.

Powered by ZOZOTOWN and WEAR Data

The recommendations draw on data from two of ZOZO’s major fashion platforms: ZOZOTOWN, one of Japan’s largest online clothing retailers, and WEAR, a social fashion app where users share outfit photos.

The feature uses images and product information from these services to suggest outfits and related clothing items in both visual and text formats.

More than 14 million outfit posts from WEAR are used as the foundation for the recommendations, allowing the system to match suggestions to conditions discussed in the conversation such as weather, location, or personal style preferences.

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No Account Required

ZOZO says users do not need to create an account to receive outfit suggestions through the ChatGPT integration. The company hopes this lowers barriers to fashion discovery and encourages experimentation with different styles.

The launch also reflects growing interest in AI-powered shopping tools that allow consumers to interact with recommendation systems through natural conversation rather than traditional search interfaces.

AI Styling Could Change How Japan Shops for Fashion

The collaboration highlights how Japanese fashion tech companies are experimenting with conversational AI as a new entry point for e-commerce. Instead of relying solely on search bars and filters, platforms are increasingly trying to translate vague style ideas into concrete products. If successful, integrations like ZOZO’s could signal a broader shift in how online fashion discovery works, blending social media inspiration, AI conversation, and retail into a single interface.

A World Baseball Classic With Uneven Visibility

The World Baseball Classic, baseball’s international championship tournament featuring national teams from around the globe, has begun its 2026 edition. In Japan, where baseball is one of the country’s most popular sports, the event has traditionally dominated television coverage and public conversation.

During the previous WBC tournament, Japanese broadcasters such as TV Asahi and TBS aired games daily, and highlights appeared constantly on news and variety programs. The tournament became a major national topic, fueled by wall-to-wall TV exposure.

This year, however, the situation is very different. No Japanese terrestrial television networks, including NHK, are broadcasting the games live. Instead, the tournament is being streamed primarily through Netflix, with occasional clips appearing in news reports. As a result, public awareness of the event appears uneven, with some people reportedly asking whether the WBC is even taking place.

Netflix’s New Strategy: “Official Creators”

To address concerns about visibility, Netflix has launched a new promotional approach centered on social media influencers. In February, the company began recruiting participants for a program called “Netflix Official Creators.”

Selected creators are granted permission to use official footage from the 2026 WBC and previous tournaments to produce their own content. The initiative is branded as the “World Baseball Classic Ultimate Cheer Squad.”

Approved creators can edit and distribute their own highlight videos, commentary, and analysis using the footage, publishing their content across YouTube, X (formerly Twitter), and TikTok.

Creators Can Monetize WBC Content

One of the most unusual aspects of the program is that monetization is allowed. Creators who already meet platform requirements can earn revenue from their videos.

On YouTube, this means advertising income, while on X and TikTok creators can receive impression-based payments. Netflix allows participating creators to keep 100 percent of those earnings, effectively turning WBC highlights into creator-driven content.

The approach marks a significant departure from Japan’s traditional sports broadcasting model, where television networks tightly control highlight footage and distribution.

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Influencers Join the Tournament Conversation

The program has already attracted well-known online personalities, including HIKAKIN, one of Japan’s most famous YouTubers. His WBC support video has been viewed around 1.3 million times, suggesting that Netflix’s strategy may be gaining traction among younger audiences.

Former professional baseball players are also reportedly participating, providing commentary and analysis of key plays.

A Sign of Changing Media Habits

The experiment highlights a broader shift in how major sporting events are promoted and consumed in Japan. With younger audiences increasingly favoring short video platforms and influencer commentary over traditional television, Netflix’s strategy attempts to generate buzz organically across social media rather than relying on network broadcasts.

If successful, the WBC campaign could represent a new model for sports promotion, where official footage circulates through creator communities instead of being confined to television highlights.