Sometimes in Japan you can just write about what happened, because, frankly, it’s funny. In this case, I even LOLed when I wrote this (which doesn’t happen that often, I swear).
Like Last Weekend.
If I think about it, last Saturday’s event was particularly random.
We start off in Echo Reform, which, contrary to popular belief, is not a place where reverberating sounds go to get fixed, nor is it some sort of political policy with zero substance.
Get this.
Echo Reform is a shop specialising in home renovations that doubles as an event space.
For some reason, Japanese uses the word “reform” to mean renovation.
Close enough, I guess.
Anyway, last weekend Echo Reform was hosting an event called “Beauty Marché.”
Yes, with mixed English and French. Apparently, the word Marché adds a bit of boutique European flair (I mean, they’re not wrong).
For instance, you’ll often see:
- Green Marché for a farmers’ market
- Handmade Marché for craft goods
- Food Marché for gourmet events
This Beauty Marché had a number of makeup stalls and places to… who am I kidding… I didn’t go into that section of the market. But there was at least one makeup stall, which we know because our friend proudly let us know she went to it…
Yet the question still remains:
Why would I, a yamabushi with the complexion of a goddess and the face of a supermodel, need to go to a Beauty Marché?
Simple.
I have a wife. And she wanted to go.
But not for the beauty part. My wife is beautiful as is (true story). Plus, she never wears makeup, doesn’t need to.
No, our mutual friend was there selling organic vegetables.
Oh, and also clothes.
Like, second-hand clothes. A lot of second-hand clothes. But well-kept. This is Japan after all.
And right next to her, our other mutual friend, who lived in Australia for a few years, had a coffee stand (she sells this black sesame milk drink which is very good!).
Next to them? A very-nice-smelling stall selling curry.
And in the same room? A woman and her daughter selling rather large soft toys for ¥300. That she obviously got from the UFO catchers. Or perhaps her daughter got them. Child exploitation and all that.
But it gets better.
For me, at least. Two more things I forgot to mention:
Reader, let me tell you. Not just any food trucks.
One had Jamaican jerk chicken, which I had never had before. And besides the fact that I am not a jerk (some may disagree, like this person, haha), I had some of that jerk chicken, in a sandwich (!), and it was very good. They also had ‘Long Potato’ (see right in the photo), basically 20cm-long french fries.
Bon Appetit!
And there was another food truck selling something I never see in Japan but always eat when I’m back in New Zealand:
Paninis!
Just normal paninis. But sometimes, it’s the normal stuff that makes the extraordinary… well, extraordinary, know what I mean?
And Two,
we knew the friend selling the organic produce and second-hand clothes was into kickboxing. What we didn’t know was that the organiser of said Beauty Marché was the owner of the kickboxing gym.
It seems they’d invited their kickboxing mates for a bit of a get-together, decided to call it a “Beauty Marché,” and then thought,
why not invite the whole town too?
Genius!
Mind you, all of this was under the banner of a “Beauty Marché”.
Which, at this point, was starting to feel a little… misleading?
Don’t get me wrong. The black sesame milk drink was fantastic. The jerk chicken? Top-tier. The paninis? A rare and welcome treat.
But let’s be honest.
The mountain of second-hand clothes? The child-exploitation toys?
What we really had here was what, back in New Zealand, we’d call:
A Garage Sale.
Just with a fancy name.
A Garage Marché,
if you will.