I've found to my dismay that I'm on the verge of attaining critical mass on ownership of Muji products. Any more and my room will become an unofficial branch of the store.
It hit me when I hung up the curtains that I bought. I went for the brown ones in a bit of a rush because they were the darkest and promised to blot out all light. But once they were up, I realized it was this huge expanse of heavy brown on the wall that lessens the sense of space in the room. However, what freaked me out was the sudden set of brown correspondences that reverberated around the room. My brown curtains now matched my brown duvet cover, my brown floor cushion and my brown towel, all from Muji, plus the four or so items of brown clothing that I have. Argh, all along I had a subconscious fetish for brown cloth - Muji or otherwise - and I didn't realize! Holy Muji bathsponge on a stick, I've become Mr Muji Muji!
My Muji inventory now looks like this:
1 Muji desk
1 Muji desk chair
1 Muji pen holder
1 Muji duvet
1 Muji duvet cover (brown)
1 Muji cushion (brown)
1 Muji curtains (exchanged the brown ones for light grey ones)
2 Muji bins (one for living room use, one for kitchen)
1 Muji iron
1 Muji ironing board
1 Muji bathtowel (brown)
1 Muji floorsweeper
9 Muji translucent plastic storage boxes (4 for desk, 5 in cupboard)
1 Muji collapsable translucent plastic box for laundry
1 Muji shelving set
It doesn't look as bad as it sounds... the shelving system is in the cupboard, as are half of the storage boxes. I do plan to buy the Muji washing machine + metal shelf set to go over it, but only because it's the only nice looking washing machine I can find in Tokyo and I will immediately wash the black, non-Muji duvet cover I was using as a makeshift curtain in my last flat and use that instead of the brown Muji duvet cover on my bed.
I guess I was aware I was buying a lot of Muji stuff when I arrived in Tokyo last year, but as everything was exposed in my previous room, the colour of all my books and DVDs and stuff outshone the muted Muji tones everywhere else. Even a lot of the things I haven't bought from Muji, like my lamps and coffee tables (and, ahem, my MacBook Pro), are essentially Muji style. In the new room, a lot of that colour is now hidden away in the cupboard, which itself has a Muji-ish air to it.
I don't think I've made a mistake though. Muji is a great way of getting cheap, well made goods that have a basic level of good design to them. Muji has a very restricted aesthetic to it, so I think the way forward is to use it as a soft base on which to put more striking objects that are brightly coloured or patterned. Putting some brighly coloured, differently shaped cushions on the floor, a colourful bathmat and towels and a striking desklamp will make my room much more interesting. Considering the beige capsule that is my bathroom, that are in particular desperately needs some colour. I'm also making a point of buying completely unmatching crockery and placemats and as well as putting out some of the unusual souvenirs that I brought back from Tibet, the whole apartment will look better once I have some photos on the walls.
At some point later, I'll post 'before and after' pics of my new room.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Monday, October 30, 2006
Neo Tokyo
I love my new apartment and the area it's in so much.
The move went very smoothly and quickly. The multi-shapeable scaffolding-like Muji shelving system that I had previously shaped into a sideboard in my last place is now a set of shelves inside the huge cupboards. Having moved most of my stuff into these cupboards, I just spent ages on my sofa, tripping out on how much space there is compared to the last place.
The bathroom is one of those prefab capsules that is only just big enough for one person. And my, my the things one person can do in there. You can have a bath and wash your hands in the sink at the same time, piss all over the walls and it will all wash away, you could even shower while you're taking a shit. Japan is the master of miniaturization and efficiency.
The neighbourhood is amazing. It's an intriguing mix of old and new buildings, and either way the architecture is really diverse and beautiful. Walking home at night, I'm going down all these quiet little residential streets and in the near distance the Shinjuku skyscrapers rise up over everything (including the striking Park Hyatt Hotel from Lost in Translation), lit up against the night sky. It's pure Tokyo.
The move went very smoothly and quickly. The multi-shapeable scaffolding-like Muji shelving system that I had previously shaped into a sideboard in my last place is now a set of shelves inside the huge cupboards. Having moved most of my stuff into these cupboards, I just spent ages on my sofa, tripping out on how much space there is compared to the last place.
The bathroom is one of those prefab capsules that is only just big enough for one person. And my, my the things one person can do in there. You can have a bath and wash your hands in the sink at the same time, piss all over the walls and it will all wash away, you could even shower while you're taking a shit. Japan is the master of miniaturization and efficiency.
The neighbourhood is amazing. It's an intriguing mix of old and new buildings, and either way the architecture is really diverse and beautiful. Walking home at night, I'm going down all these quiet little residential streets and in the near distance the Shinjuku skyscrapers rise up over everything (including the striking Park Hyatt Hotel from Lost in Translation), lit up against the night sky. It's pure Tokyo.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Monday, October 23, 2006
Liberation!
I'm very happy to say that in three days I will finally be moving into my own apartment. After coming back from Tibet as serene as the Buddha himself, my housemate did a couple of things that made my stress levels hit Defcon 5 and I realised our co-living situation was completely unsustainable. It's dawned on me that I'm so busy all the time and I'm constantly surrounded by people all day, so my personal space has become more important than ever. In any case, I will be here for several years to come, so it makes sense to move into my own place now.
For those of you who know Tokyo, I'm moving to Yoyogi, eight minutes walk from JR Yoyogi Station and 15 minutes walk from Shinjuku Station. For those of you who don't know Tokyo, this means I live slap bang in the centre of Tokyo!! Well, you can argue that Tokyo either doesn't have a centre, or that it has lots of centres, but to me the arc encompassing Shinjuku/Yoyogi/Harajuku/Shibuya is the centre of Tokyo. It's the perfect location for me: it's within walking distance of Shinjuku and Yoyogi Park; easy cycling distance of so many places like Harajuku, Shibuya and Shimokitazawa; the nearby train station has the two lines that I use the most and it's cuts my commute to the various places I got to work and study by fifteen minutes.
(The crazy thing about this photo is that, while the area depicted is huge, it only represents at most a third of Tokyo.)
Moving apartment in Japan is an insanely expensive affair. My new rent is 400 pounds a month. You pay one month's rent in advance + one or two month's non-refundable deposit ("gratitude money") + one to two month's deposit refunded when you leave + one month's rent in estate agent fees + approximately half a month's rent in other shitty fees. So in my case I've had to pay about 2400 pounds upfront. Other people have it worse sometimes. (I'm not rich, by the way, this has involved a massive loan from my parents).
I don't know what the prices are like in London, but I imagine you would probably get more space for that kind of money, plus furniture/facilities, albeit probably in a slightly run down, noisy place. In Japan, rooms come completely bare and to most Westerners would seem very small. My rent will go from the current 350 pounds a month to 450 pounds a month, plus I have the extra expense of having to buy my own washing machine, fridge, microwave, hoover and crockery etc. But it will be my own uncluttered, hamsterless space and will feel way bigger as a result, and I will be considerably happier.
I've always grown up in smallish rooms so I know how to make the most of space. It looks like the place is dead quiet as it's in a residential dead end. What I love about the room is one whole wall consists of built-in cupboard space, so all my stuff that's been lying exposed in my current cupboard-less room can be hidden from view and I can keep my actual living space simple. And did I mention already that it'll be hamster free?!!
For those of you who know Tokyo, I'm moving to Yoyogi, eight minutes walk from JR Yoyogi Station and 15 minutes walk from Shinjuku Station. For those of you who don't know Tokyo, this means I live slap bang in the centre of Tokyo!! Well, you can argue that Tokyo either doesn't have a centre, or that it has lots of centres, but to me the arc encompassing Shinjuku/Yoyogi/Harajuku/Shibuya is the centre of Tokyo. It's the perfect location for me: it's within walking distance of Shinjuku and Yoyogi Park; easy cycling distance of so many places like Harajuku, Shibuya and Shimokitazawa; the nearby train station has the two lines that I use the most and it's cuts my commute to the various places I got to work and study by fifteen minutes.
(The crazy thing about this photo is that, while the area depicted is huge, it only represents at most a third of Tokyo.)
Moving apartment in Japan is an insanely expensive affair. My new rent is 400 pounds a month. You pay one month's rent in advance + one or two month's non-refundable deposit ("gratitude money") + one to two month's deposit refunded when you leave + one month's rent in estate agent fees + approximately half a month's rent in other shitty fees. So in my case I've had to pay about 2400 pounds upfront. Other people have it worse sometimes. (I'm not rich, by the way, this has involved a massive loan from my parents).
I don't know what the prices are like in London, but I imagine you would probably get more space for that kind of money, plus furniture/facilities, albeit probably in a slightly run down, noisy place. In Japan, rooms come completely bare and to most Westerners would seem very small. My rent will go from the current 350 pounds a month to 450 pounds a month, plus I have the extra expense of having to buy my own washing machine, fridge, microwave, hoover and crockery etc. But it will be my own uncluttered, hamsterless space and will feel way bigger as a result, and I will be considerably happier.
I've always grown up in smallish rooms so I know how to make the most of space. It looks like the place is dead quiet as it's in a residential dead end. What I love about the room is one whole wall consists of built-in cupboard space, so all my stuff that's been lying exposed in my current cupboard-less room can be hidden from view and I can keep my actual living space simple. And did I mention already that it'll be hamster free?!!
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Tibetan Tip for Today
Do not attempt to machine wash Tibetan prayer flags: they come out as prayer rags.
Luckily it was the set I bought in San Francisco last year and not the ones from my trip last month.
Luckily it was the set I bought in San Francisco last year and not the ones from my trip last month.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Nam-tso lake
About four hours out of Lhasa is the world's highest salt water lake, Nam-tso at about 4,300 metres. The sense of space was vast, the air totally pure, the clouds clean and the water crystal clear.
Carved rocks lying around everywhere.
The tent encampment early the next day. The previous day, the central area had been full of hundreds of land cruisers that had brought day-trippers who don't stay at Nam-tso. It kind of had the air of a theme park, so it was great to have stayed overnight and have a quieter morning. The 4 person tent I stayed in is one of the brown ones in the bottom left of the picture.
The weather had changed completely and there was a storm coming in. The normally static prayer flags you see everywhere in Tibet were billowing in the wind like crazy.
The lake took on such an eerily beautiful colour that morning. The water didn't look like water.
The land didn't even look like land.
Tiny, tiny, insignificant people. This landscape will probably still be here long, long after the human race is gone.
Some park ranger I met.
Carved rocks lying around everywhere.
The tent encampment early the next day. The previous day, the central area had been full of hundreds of land cruisers that had brought day-trippers who don't stay at Nam-tso. It kind of had the air of a theme park, so it was great to have stayed overnight and have a quieter morning. The 4 person tent I stayed in is one of the brown ones in the bottom left of the picture.
The weather had changed completely and there was a storm coming in. The normally static prayer flags you see everywhere in Tibet were billowing in the wind like crazy.
The lake took on such an eerily beautiful colour that morning. The water didn't look like water.
The land didn't even look like land.
Tiny, tiny, insignificant people. This landscape will probably still be here long, long after the human race is gone.
Some park ranger I met.
Saturday, October 07, 2006
Sera Monastery
Sera Monastery is on the northern edge of Lhasa and I went there twice. The first time was very calm and quiet, although I got to see the monks debating, making their dramatic claps whenever they make a point. The second time was for the Yoghurt Festival on the 23rd August, when the whole of Lhasa descends on the two main monasteries around the city.
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