One of the things that attracted me to Tokyo was how glamorous it seemed to be, with everyone dressed to kill. I wanted to marvel at the beautiful people all around me, and maybe I hoped it was somehow contagious. See, I was in a rut back home. I needed some glitz in my life, and I hoped I could find it this city, famous for its bright lights and brighter finery. I wasn’t disappointed.
However there was one thing I didn’t really plan for. Yes, many of the people here, especially the women, are stunning. I wasn’t prepared for the tireless attention women in Tokyo put into their appearance. There are many girls here who wouldn’t dream of leaving the house without their hair extensions glued in tight, their nails done right, and heels at least three inches high. I’d estimate at least a quarter of the women I see out and about in Tokyo everyday are bona fide head-turners.
I also wasn’t prepared for the level of…enthusiasm foreign men would have for these glamorous real-life Barbies, and not long after getting settled in a little voice inside began to say, “hey, what about me?” I tried to ignore it, chalked it up to insecurity. Besides, I was getting my share of attention from men here and there, but I was always grudgingly aware that if Japan were a Pizza Hut my share was a pepperoni slice, while my Japanese counterparts where gorging on the number 10 party combo. See, for some reason Japanese men don’t go after foreign women with the same passion. The voice began to get angrier, and harder to ignore.
What do they got that I don’t got? These fools just want a woman who’s submissive. Foreign women don’t want them, that’s why they go crazy for Japanese girls. Besides, Japanese girls are easy, no wonder men love them. Who wouldn’t want a girl who would drop her pants just because you look vaguely like the guy she saw in
a movie once?
Constantly having the assumed superiority of Japanese women rubbed in my face was highly irritating, and all that rubbing caused painful blisters to form and made me grouchy and ugly.
I began to see Japanese girls as the enemy. I’d feel my lip curl in disgust when I saw a girl pulling down her mini skirt to try to shield as much of her skinny little thighs from the cold of mid-January as possible. Bitch, just wear some damn jeans!
Fast forward about eight months later. Some of the women I met that day became friends that I see on a regular basis. Hooray! I was cured. The blisters had popped, and the haterade inside had drained right? I’d thought so, until I went to Disneyland with my boyfriend. I went to the bathroom and when I came out there was a girl at the sink. A real cutie with smooth skin and rosy cheeks, hair in pigtails, perfect makeup and a fitted dress that flared femininely around her hips…well except for that part at the back that was tucked into her pantyhose. Before I could even think Egorella was all over it. She let out a whoop of pure evil joy.
Aaaaahahahah! She thinks she’s too cute, checking herself out in the mirror like that. And her skirt is stuck in her panties! What a stupid chick!
These otherworldly Japanese beauties were fallible after all! She was about to walk outside like that, mooning all of Disney Land! Ahahahah….ah, I couldn’t let that happen, could I? But she deserved it…didn’t she? Or didn’t she? Damn, I had to tell her. After all, it wasn’t her fault I thought she was cuter than me. I tapped her on the shoulder.
I didn’t know how to say “your panties are trying to eat your skirt” in Japanese so I just sort of gestured to her behind. Her perfectly manicured hands flew to her backside, where she felt that something was very wrong. She “arigatou gozaimasu-ed” me and bowed, and I did my awkward bow/nod thing I do, and then got of there.
This jealousy that foreign women can have for Japanese women is something I’ve bumped into online before when reading blogs by foreign women, but never really saw it written about in much detail. I do hear the hate/frustration come out of the mouths of other foreign friends from time to time, despite having Japanese women as friends. My foreign girlfriends will even sometimes admit they feel bad saying such things, but it’s like it goes without saying that they mean some other girl, perhaps one of those girls who exclusively seduce foreign men. They’ll say things like:
I heard Japanese women are bad in bed. They just lie there.
Guys just want someone who will do what they tell them, that’s why they love Japanese girls.
Behind these statements are feelings of betrayal, and they remind me of Chapter 4 of the autobiography of Malcolm X, in which Malcolm dumps his loyal black girlfriend Laura for a sexy white seductress named Sophia. The allure of the exotic and the bragging rights of being with a white woman were too much for him to resist. Laura goes from bookworm to prostitute, and Malcolm blames himself for her downfall.
This cliché of black men flocking to white woman who just want to use them as accessories is one I grew up on. However it’s interesting to see this phenomenon play out in Japan, because the girlfriends and coworkers I refer to are from countries like Australia, America and England, and the majority of them are white. Doesn’t it stand to reason then that I should be happy to see white women getting a taste of their own medicine? Strangely no, because you see the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
But here’s the thing, I didn’t pack up my life and move here to make enemies. I came here to learn a thing or two about myself, and life and the world we live in. And I’ve realized many of the men who claim to “love” Japanese women are working off of stereotypes, and that “love” I’ve been so jealous of is nothing more then objectification. Hell, when I did a google search for images for this post, most of the results were of women in bikinis. Hating on cute Japanese chicks is a waste of time, unless I also wanted to be objectified. Besides, when you think you’re great, there’s no need to hate. Japanese, Black, White, Latino, Native American…whatever. All women have their charms, and it’s our duty to find them and work them as best we can. So I say props to Japanese women for doing what you gotta do to pull the man of your dreams. Though I still scratch my head at some of you wearing heels to the supermarket, I can’t deny that I admire your dedication.
So I guess the main point to take away from this post is, its men who are the real enemy .