Issue #35

Words by Cory Ohlendorf | Photography courtesy

In Japan, great style doesn’t end at the fit or fabric of a garment. It goes deeper—into how you care for what you wear. If you’ve walked around Tokyo, you might’ve noticed how nice everyone’s clothes are. And anyone who’s done vintage shopping here will tell you that even older clothes and bags look and feel like new pieces, pulled fresh from a store’s racks.

Go to dinner and you might discover why. People’s bags never touch the floor. They’re hung on hooks or placed neatly into provided baskets under your chair. Once, when I placed a suede jacket on the back of my chair, a waiter came by with a special cloth and laid it over my jacket. Confused, my dinner date told me that it was to protect the suede—from people walking by, potential spills and just general food smells. And once, when leaving a yakitori restaurant, where the smoke from grilled meat can hang in the air, the hostess pulled out a bottle of fabric refresher spray as she opened the door for me and the other guys in my party. She then spritzed us down as we left the place so that we wouldn’t smell like grilled meat for the rest of the night.

Step into any Japanese drugstore or department store, and you’ll find entire sections and aisles devoted to products designed not just to clean clothes, but to extend their life, keep them fresh, and ensure they look as sharp as the day you bought them.

Of course, there are more common and affordable takes, too. Laundrin and Kao are quietly leading this charge—not just selling functionality, but a kind of soft luxury in daily ritual. While the bottles are utilitarian to make coverage quick and effective, the formulas are gentle and elegant—almost perfume-like—often infused with subtle scents like white tea, cedar or musk. But beyond fragrance, these products represent a mindset: an appreciation for objects and the belief that if you care for something, it will care for you back.

It’s the same reason why you see men in Tokyo brushing down their shoes in the office or carefully folding their jackets over their laps. It’s not vanity—it’s respect. There’s something deeply appealing about this attention to detail. In a world where fast fashion dominates and clothes are treated as disposable, the Japanese approach is a reminder: Style doesn’t stop at what you wear—it includes how you care. So next time you unpack your suitcase in Tokyo, don’t skip the pharmacy. Pick up a bottle of wrinkle mist or fabric refresher. You’ll leave smelling better and thinking a little differently about how to treat your wardrobe.

Japanese outdoor outfitter Snow Peak has teamed up with Tokyo-based eyewear shop JINS once again for a lineup of performance eyewear designed to meet the demands for the outdoors without sacrificing style. With an emphasis on minimal design with smart functionality, this season’s lineup leans heavily on JINS’ 360° multi-directional hinge system, allowing for fluid motion in all directions. The innovative hinge boosts both durability and comfort—ideal for rugged outdoor use or long days under the sun. Four frame styles—ten variations in all—include the standout Switch flip-ups, which snaps between tinted and clear lenses, and a Fishing Set with polarized options in a water-repellent case. But our favorite is the tonal Boston shades, which like each pair, comes with a co-branded shoulder-strap case and very nice cleaning cloth.

Nemawashi (根回し) is a Japanese idiom rooted in gardening, meaning “preparing the roots for transplanting.” Before moving a tree, a gardener loosens the soil and readies the roots to ensure it thrives in new ground. In business (and everyday life), nemawashi is the quiet, careful groundwork done before making a big change—informal conversations, building consensus, addressing concerns, and ensuring alignment on a plan. You smooth the way so when the move happens, success feels natural. It’s about the necessary preparation to make growth possible.