This is extremely shallow but if I could just once model in Vivi I feel like my life would be complete. I’ve pored over, scrutinized, and straight out gazed for entire minutes at the sometimes cuckoo, always exuberant styling and photo after photo of gorgeous fellow halfies. I don’t think any other publication dives so head first into trends large and small, check out the Gladiator Glossary!
This might come across as pitiful, or even worse, annoying, but when I was growing up I was the only half-Asian, let alone half-Japanese girl I knew, and I’ll readily admit that I spent a good deal of time wishing I was a “normal” white girl. My mom tells me even when I was little and going to school in Tokyo and Hong Kong (both international schools and populated with every nationality imaginable), I would always befriend the prettiest blonde girls in the class..probably because I wanted to be them! My three best friends were British, Swedish, and French. Then I went through a phase wishing I was fully Japanese, at least then I wouldn’t be so blatantly stared at in the Tokyo subways. When I discovered Vivi in high school one summer while bored in Tokyo, it was like coming across a personal and highly colorful bible. A magazine filled with nothing but half-Japanese girls! And they were all impossibly hot! I found this to be highly cool and was instantly hooked.I have long since stopped suffering from such indulgent identity ponderings but do still enjoy my monthly dose of the Vivs. (I do realize that it’s a little odd for one of Japan’s most popular fashion magazines to never use any fully Japanese models, but this is probably a whole separate topic…)
My favorite girl would have to be Jun, with her dark stare that makes me think she would be pretty intimidating in real life. I rank her as one of the most gorgeous people currently in existence on Earth. Lena and Chikako have that cutesy/sexy thing going on, and Marie pulls off a Vojtova-esque nose with aplomb. Now, if only I had paid more attention in my rigorously enforced Saturday Japanese school and subsequent “Japanese for bilingual speakers” class that was easily the single hardest, most time-consuming course I have ever been a reluctant part of. And slacking off wasn’t an option since I was one of err three students.
Crazy fashion eye candy with pages chock-full of photos and weirdly awesome items:
I have the strangest feeling that Lucky isn’t going to provide us with the following:
This post was completely due to reader Tali’s comment informing me that the site of my dreams does exist, a livejournal community dedicated to Japanese glossies that posts scans of, like, entire magazines. You’re stoked. I’m stoked. THANK YOU TALI!
When a reader delivered a lofty compliment this week proclaiming I looked like I could be in Empire Records in my unabashedly ’90s outfit, my freakish amount of love for that movie came rushing back and I was left daydreaming about Liv Tyler in Doc Martens and a plaid mini to the beat of Sugar High (“I want to kiss myself goodbye!”). I wanted to be her a crazy amount, and had the plaid skirt collection to prove it. I rocked them to school with thigh highs from Wet Seal, which now that I am pontificating upon it, was pretty scandalous for my awkward age. Hmmm.
Unfortunately for me and the rest of the cultish Empire Records obsessers, the story unfolds throughout the course of one measly day, which equals exactly one look. We are left to imagine the assumed glory of Casey/Liv cavorting at the mall and eventually Harvard in Rampage dresses and high waisted shorts. I’m not saying I’m going to rock the cropped angora or anything, but my already existent desire for Doc Martens has probably increase tenfold due to these reminiscings and photos of Camille in her recently acquireds.
At least I had logic behind my idolatry, with these Liv ads staring at me from my Seventeens:
Damn the man. Save the Empire.
The only time I ever did care about something Renee Zellweger did:
Oh Liv…Rex is all wrong in every last wavy blonde hair way imaginable.
There were like 50 of these kinds of girls at my middle school:
Warren: Stop calling me Warren! My name isn’t FUCKING WARREN!
Eddie: His name isn’t Warren.
Corey: His name isn’t Warren.
Berko: His name isn’t Warren.
Mark: I thought his name was Warren?
Liv exhibiting her charm in full, you really have to watch this:
Sources: moviescreenshots and bwgreyscale