Col. Baldwin makes like a downhill skier going up Takeshita dori heading towards the JR station, dodging the crowd for a snow flecked forest: jailbait school kids in torn fishnets, platinum London boots, and belts that say “SEXY” in proud gold letters. African voodoo kings also in baggy Alta-wear and puffy fanny packs-turned forward of po-faced tourists just in from New Kirk City.
Early evening Harajuku. All crepe scent and trance version of the Gingaman theme on rusty idol shop repeat. Baldwin there in the soup wearing Men’s Non-No disguise: Don Johnson redux. White safari shirt from Scoopman, cream cargo pants by Dior Homme (already stained with orange Pabron S Gold powder, he takes it whenever he is bored and the effect is better than booze on an empty stomach). Not his usual style of dress and hardy age appropriate, but, hey, that’s show biz.
Psy-ops wants to wet its beak on a psychosocial makeup of Tokyo2, but secret wars, long seminar weekends, and hidden cameras can only get you so far. Reaching deep into the M fund, the dark and unseen hand of Some Accountant produces just enough cabbage to send Baldwin (rarely out of Yokohama/Yokokusa) on an epic shopping spree.
He’s also been instructed to “waste as much time as possible,” which means being parked most of the day parked front row at a McDonald’s on Omotesando watching cameramen stalking skinny blond models, most of them wearing overwhelming sunglasses *and* see-through tennis visors. Taking notes, most of them mental, nursing a Pabron G laced macha milkshake.
Now. En route to Doutour to meet with Sukeren, Kanto’s largest female criminal syndicate. Past tense. Now reduced to just one member who performs all the previous functions herself including president, accountant, and advisor. No time left over for recruitment drive, which is why Sukeren is now reduced to just one single Sukeban, and not a particularly tough one either.
Boyce and Hart on the in-store radio. Baldwin remembers most of the A&M catalog from the LA crash pad. Soft pop nursery rhyme about “The Countess.”
Look in her eyes and you might think she’s still a baby (ooooh!), but everywhere else you sure can tell that she’s a lady.
Where do these women come from, Baldwin wonders as he sees Sukeren herself tucked away behind her elevated coffeehouse table. Pretending to flip through a copy of Ego system magazine, long fingers with jeweled nails pausing on an ad for Bust Up Project pills (winner of the mythic “America TV Shopping Award”). Arms resting in Koga ninja mesh top, the fabric looped around the thumbs. Eye shadow like a brush of burnt wood. Weird alignment of light and smoke makes her look like an old Telegen transmission...
http://animeworldorder.googlepages.com/beautyitem.mp3
At least, that's how I always hear these in my head.
Posted by: Daryl Surat | June 22, 2006 at 03:51 PM