While
I had been warned by many gaijin friends that I should not shop in
Japan for clothing (it was too expensive, it did not fit western bodies,
etc.), I would often go to the department stores to at least check out the
latest fashion and then try to buy them when I returned home or my husband
did. I had been fascinated by
Japanese lingerie and my husband and I would often check them out even if
we had no intention of buying. I
am not particularly voluptuous and I have found out that over the years
even Japanese women have grown larger, so I started to notice that several
boutiques actually carried lingerie
that could fit me. I was
definitely tempted to buy so I chatted with a few of my Japanese friends
who recommended that I visit the Mon-Cher boutique, which was popular
among women like me.
(Related article: Shopping
for lingerie in Japan)
When
we entered Mon-Cher it was very apparent that the sales ladies were
wearing very sheer bras as we could easily figure out from a
distance. Of course, the store was also displaying some of these
designs at the entrance. It
did not surprise me at all since I was used to Japanese salespeople in all
kinds of uniforms at all times and particularly so at the stores.
In our trips to Akihabara, we had often seen some girls even
dressed as a (computer) mouse or cell
phone.
In all the high-end department stores in Ginza and Shinjuku, I
always enjoyed demonstrations of latest style.
In
their broken English, the salesgirls asked if they could help us and I
quickly commented that we were interested in the type of bras they were
wearing. I also gave them my
size. They directed us to the racks in the back that had these type
of bras displayed. I pointed to a black colored bra.
One of the salesgirls, Fumiko, immediately brought another one for
me in my size from the storage and walked with me to the dressing room.
Apparently I would be assisted.
She took the La
Perla bra that I was wearing, gently folded it and put it on
a small stool in the corner. Then
she helped me put on the new bra and smiled at me commenting that it
fitted me well. As I looked
into the mirror, Fumiko came from behind and adjusted my cups so that I
was correctly positioned. I
was amazed how professional she was.
Once she thought I looked good, followed by a few more shouts of
‘kirei desune’, she accompanied me out of the dressing room
area to the waiting hall to show my husband Martin how it looked. She
was very enthused on how nice I looked and commented that she was wearing
the same design, though a different color. Having said that, she struck a pose for Martin and I. It was obvious
that the store used these salesgirls as their in-store models. Martin looked at me and as I tried to recreate the pose by
Fumiko. He immediately winked
at me and we all laughed. It
was a signal that we were both convinced that we wanted to buy it.
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As
I was expecting, once we said that we were going to buy the bra, Fumiko
wanted us to buy
matching
panties. Despite
the $43 price tag for the bra alone, I wanted to at least look at what she
had to show and Martin was encouraging me with his look. Once I saw the matching panties, especially when Fumiko
modeled it for me by unhooking her skirt on the side to reveal the one
that she was wearing, I was convinced to buy it even though I was
convinced that a matchbox size piece of cloth did not deserve a $22 price
tag.
Martin
and I have always enjoyed shopping for
lingerie together. In
fact Martin does not mind even shopping alone for me.
During his
trips to
Paris, Hong Kong, and Singapore, he would often
return with some souvenirs for me. The
day he would buy he would describe what he bought over the phone to me and
then I would expectantly wait for him to arrive.
Sometimes he would surprise but we always enjoyed the experience.
I would often joke that it would be nice if the lingerie companies
started to sell panties with the message “My husband went to
Paris and
all I got was two square inches of lace.”
We
were, however, together in a lingerie store in Japan shopping for the
first time. So far Fumiko had
been a great sales advisor. On
one hand I was preparing to leave, since I did not want to spend any more
money. On the other, I was
tempted to at least admire some of the other sections.
Fumiko, with her sharp eye for susceptible customers, politely
asked if we had a few more minutes to visit their private boutique in the
rear. She pointed out that
only members are allowed to shop in the private club but from time to time
they invite new customers to find out if they would like to join the
private club. I was slightly
hesitant since I had heard about private restaurants and spas – places
where they did not display the rates and no bills were typically presented
before departure. Most
customers were too rich to bother with the amount anyway.
They simply instructed their banks to transfer the money and simply
notify them at the end of the month.
Will a thong cost more than $200 in the private boutique?
Martin stood there with the confidence of a millionaire and acted
as if he was a member of dozens of such establishments. Rather than his usual polite “Shall we?” he simply
commanded, “Let’s go.”
We
followed Fumiko and when she opened the hand-painted sliding door, my jaw
dropped. I had not expected
that, what seemed like a small building from outside would have such a
beautiful place inside. We
walked through a Japanese style garden into a 16th century
style building. I now
understood what Fumiko meant when she used the term ‘private
boutique.’ It was not like
a store or even a boutique. It
was like a meeting place for samurais with open spaces all around but
several rooms that all opened outside into the courtyard.
Thus, regardless of what room you were in, you would get a private
view of the Japanese garden. Outside every room, I saw shoes, indicating that there were
customers inside, but it was so quiet that it did not seem if anyone was
even around.
Fumiko
slid another door open and then assisted both Martin and I to take our
shoes off and change to sleepers. We
were introduced to Kubota-san, a middle aged
lady, who apologized for her
poor English and wondered if we spoke any French (Related:
How to be like the French women?), which she was fluent in.
Martin interrupted by saying that I understood some Japanese and he
will be happy to translate, if necessary.
We
sat on cushions on the tatami floor and sipped hot
green tea as
Kubota-san engaged in small talk with Martin.
It was not a room that one could think of as a ‘shop.’ Whatever little
lingerie was displayed in the room looked more like
art. When Fumiko materialized
a few moments later, she had a silk bag with her and signaled to me to
join her. I followed her into
a private dressing room and she suggested that I should change so that I
could try anything that I wanted. As
I undressed, and I realized from her gestures that I should take
everything off, she took out a silk yukata from the bag and helped
me put it on.
We
walked back to the room and I sat down on my cushion again.
As I lifted my cup to drink some more tea, Kubota-san politely
announced that she would like to demonstrate two items for us.
At this point, Fumiko slid another panel at the rear of the room. I
was starting to wonder if I was in some kind of a fantasyland.
In walked another model
dressed in what we would call a baby-doll
in the US. As the
model, whom Fumiko introduced as Mari-chan, glided to the center of the room,
Kubota-san stood up to explain the design and the fabric.
It was indeed a pretty item and I saw Martin’s eyes glued to
Mari-chan’s body. After
turning around a couple of times and bending at all possible angles,
Kubota-san invited us to examine it.
She held Martin’s hand and guided it to the
embroidered area
around the top. Mariko
took my hand and invited me to feel the
pink silk ribbons that kept the bikini
briefs together on the side. Mari-chan
stepped back and disappeared behind the sliding door again.
Fumiko opened two boxes containing what was just modeled and asked
if I wanted to try pink or black. I
did not have to choose; Martin did. Kubota-san
closed the box with the pink one and Fumiko came from behind to open the
belt of my yukata. I
had increasingly gotten used to being stark naked in front of perfect
strangers after numerous trips to onsen with my girlfriends.
But this did feel different because Martin was there.
However, I faced the wall as I let my yukata fall down and Fumiko
helped me put the babydoll on. As I fastened the ribbons in the front, Fumiko managed to put
the briefs on me and was now tying the ribbons on the side.
When I turned around, I got a round of applause from Kubota-san and
Fumiko, and in his typical shy style that I adore, Martin simply smiled at
me and then joined in the applause. Kubota-san
stepped forward to make some fine adjustments and commented to Martin how
appropriate his choice of black color was for me.
I moved back and Fumiko helped me again change into my yukata.
I
was impressed how coordinated the whole event was. The moment I sat down, Fumiko opened the door in the rear
again and standing again in all her glory was Mari-chan. She was wearing a red and black corset this time with vinyl
thongs. In her fishnet
stockings, she was a girl to admire.
It is rare that I feel attracted to other girls but Mari-chan was
definitely a beauty. As both
Martin and I sat mesmerized, Kubota-san pointed out the utility of the
outfit for formal evenings or as the dress-of-choice for intimate dinner
at home. She made me feel the
intricate embroidery on the front – handmade in France, she pointed out. Several hundred bucks, I told myself inside as I touched it.
As
Mari-chan moved towards Martin to give him a closer look, Fumiko was
already opening the boxes to ask for my preference.
White and gold – so elegant it looked as Fumiko adjusted the
ribbons at the back. The more
pressure she put, the more my bust rose which I could now see in the
mirror in front of me. I put
on the stockings and when I walked to the center, Mari-chan embraced me
and then we both posed together as if we were some stars in the
musical “Chicago.”
I was not sure if Martin too was scared of the prices but he was
always good at being confident regardless of the situation.
I even walked with caution afraid of spoiling it.
~
No
prices were ever mentioned and no one ever asked us if we wanted to buy
anything. “We hope that you
liked our selection and will come back again,” Kubota-san said as we all
got up to leave. With an
almost apologetic tone, she then handed me a box, whispering to me, “I
though you really looked very nice in that black babydoll.
It’s a small gift from all of us at Mon-Cher.
Wear it for him tonight.”
I
could barely speak. I was so
overwhelmed that I simply managed to bow to her and mumble something that
now I do not even recall.
~
When
I walked with Fumiko to pay, she commented that I would look great in my
choice and Martin will be very delighted.
“Your husband is very handsome looking too.
We have another store for big men down the street.
When we were showing him, I could notice that he is big,”
she
said winking at me. “Do you
mind if I tell him about the store?” she asked me.
I just smiled and did not answer since I was not sure how Martin
would react.
As we
were leaving the shop, I commented to Martin that Fumiko had asked if I
would be offended if she told me how nice it was to see the bulge and if he would be interested in visiting their boutique for men
like him. Specifically that she could see the outline of his bone as she called it. I told Martin that I had no
problem with it and that he should go and talk to Fumiko. Who knows
we might find some interesting matching underwear for
him, I teased.
As we were leaving, Martin walked over to Fumiko to give her the
opportunity to speak. And sure enough, she approached him and I just
watched both of them talking. I
could not hear the conversation but I saw Martin looking a bit shy and
shaking his head as she gesticulated with her hands.
They both bowed and Martin returned to me, gave me a light kiss,
and said, “She will work at the other store tomorrow.
Maybe we can come back to see if they have something
interesting”.
Thinking
of what Fumiko had done to me, could I say no?
I was myself seriously considering joining the club.
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