Last year, a video from a Japanese-descendant influencer with a considerable following (574k!) caught my attention. The profile was a bit different from what we usually see: quick TikTok-style videos with shallow information and unconfirmed sources.
The video’s title was something like “weird Japanese fashion styles,” which would make any culture researcher cringe. So, I decided to do what he should have done: research and explain in detail the origins of each aesthetic. Understanding that what is considered ugly or beautiful is culturally and temporally located and can be used as a tool of subversion. Speaking about urban subcultures always means discussing a society in tension, so pressured that the escape manifests radically, relying on shock to force society to question itself. With that said, let’s clarify some absurdly superficial comments made during that video:
The first “weird style” presented was ganguro (ガングロ), an umbrella term that also includes the well-known gyaru (ギャル). According to the influencer, this is the “weirdest” expression due to the intense artificial tanning contrasting with white eye shadows, bleached hair, and flashy clothes. Sharon Kinsella, in the book “Schoolgirls, Money and Rebellion in Japan” (2014), comments on the emergence of ganguro around the 90s, a period known in Japan as the Lost Decade. During this time, the Japanese economic bubble, inflated by real estate speculation and excessive optimism, burst, leaving thousands unemployed. Consequently, young people were heavily pressured to follow traditional careers, not stand out too much, and lead an austere and simple life—a famous “don’t stand out from the crowd” mentality. This also included physical appearance, which should be as close as possible to the Nipponic ideal: dark hair, extremely white skin, natural makeup. Ganguro then appeared with blonde (or red, green, blue, purple, etc.) hair, a very artificial tan – orange – and eyes as white as a ghost.
Kinsella adds an essential argument, discussing the influence of African American culture and the shared sense of racial oppression among many girls who didn’t identify with the beauty standards imposed by mainstream magazines and media, mostly from the US or Europe. Icons like Naomi Campbell, Bobby Brown, and Whitney Houston circulated among the ganguro, bringing new references that, as always, are transmuted by the particularities of Japanese culture. For these girls, the more exaggerated, shocking, and artificial, the better: huge eyelashes, platform shoes, enormous bags, bold prints—everything that went against the traditional representation of Japanese women.
The second style mentioned in the video is “Lolis,” a term mistakenly used to refer to Lolitas (ロリータ). Additionally, the influencer states that “the concept is basically cute,” “that they are like dolls that seem to have come out of an anime.” Frankly, it is outrageous to summarize the history and significance of the movement in this way. On November 2021, I discussed for an entire podcast episode about Lolitas (in Portuguese), and it’s worth listening to for more details on why I’m so indignant. Similarly to ganguro, Lolitas also emerged during the economic, political, and social crisis of the late ’80s and, especially, the ’90s. Young people who refused to grow up and face a life full of commitments, obligations, and unhappiness sought refuge in the nostalgia of childhood.
Cuteness is indeed a crucial element, but it is not cute in the way we understand it in the West. The concept of kawaii (可愛い) is quite complex, studied by serious researchers, and has connections not only with aesthetics but also with Japanese foreign policy, as well as financial and marketing decisions (recommended reading: From a Word to a Commercial Power: A Brief Introduction to the Kawaii Aesthetic in Contemporary Japan). There are many subtypes of Lolitas, but the goal was never to resemble anime characters. Above all, the existence of Lolita in a majime society – where adults should behave like adults – is a constant symbol of resistance, reviving the inner child that we all have, but that might be buried under a stack of processes or bills to pay.
Finally, the influencer mentions the yankii (ヤンキー), also dating back to the ’80s/’90s (you can see the importance of historical and social contextualization, right?). The video explains them as “the troublemakers of Japan,” wearing all-white or all-black clothes, jackets with dragons on the back, or the name of the “gang.” Known for their irreverent attitudes, the yankii rebelled against Japanese good manners. Speaking loudly, using vulgar language, behaving aggressively (contradicting the stereotype that Japanese avoid conflict), and sometimes using cigarettes and alcohol in public, the yankii quickly gained a negative and problematic reputation. Again, we must understand the emergence of this subculture as a social depressurization, as happened with punks in England. The yankii are related to other tribes, such as the bōsōzoku (暴走族), famous for their stylized jackets, puffed-up pants, and souped-up motorcycles.
We can see that both the ganguro, Lolitas, and yankii are, above all, a rebellion against the traditional values imposed by society. For them, fashion was appropriated as a powerful device due to its ability to produce very visible meanings, easily identified, and highly suitable for the increasingly connected world, flooded with photographs and videos available worldwide almost simultaneously. It’s no wonder that magazines like FRUiTS thrived in the ’90s and 2000s, showcasing the richness of Tokyo’s urban subcultures. It was there, in one of the world’s largest cities, that the cracks caused by the generational conflict between a population that experienced the anxieties of World War II and a youth unfamiliar with this reality, and therefore, seeing no sense in many restrictions, finally exploded in the neighborhoods of Ginza, Harajuku, Odaiba, Shibuya, Shinjuku, among others.
It’s a bit disturbing how, for example, the Victorian Era is overly romanticized when noblewomen used highly lead-based white powders, and many ended up with ghostly expressions due to the corrosion caused by the active chemical. However, this style is never described as strange or bizarre, perhaps because, for us, the Victorian Era is within the knowable universe. Japan, on the other hand, is part of the unknown, constantly exoticized, remembering that being of Brazilian descent does not exempt people from committing orientalisms; after all, they live in a Westernized and Eurocentric context.
Within this limited imaginary, it’s clear that customs like blackening teeth (ohaguro, お歯黒), completely shaving eyebrows (hikimayu, 引眉), excessively bronzing the skin, and wearing dresses full of bows will sound bizarre. This is how we learn: what we know is natural, what we don’t know is strange. But Japanese fashion is not a mess. Japanese culture is not a mess. We are here studying seriously, not because we want to be the owners of reason, but because we love what we study, and the least we can do is give dignity and contextualization to our research object. Make videos, spread knowledge, but do it responsibly, especially when speaking to an audience of over half a million. Study the agenda, seek someone who knows more about the subject, verify the information from reliable sources. Without that, we will never dispel the scientific and cultural ignorance that has persistently surrounded us in recent years.
Bibliographical References
Kersten, Joachim. “Street Youths, Bosozoku, and Yakuza: Subculture Formation and Societal Reactions in Japan.” Crime & Delinquency, vol. 39, no. 3, July 1993, pp. 277–295, doi:10.1177/0011128793039003002.
Kinsella, Sharon. Schoolgirls, money and rebellion in Japan. London New York: Routledge, 2014.
Monden, Masafumi. Japanese fashion cultures: dress and gender in contemporary Japan. London New York: Bloomsbury Academic, 2015.
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The thoughts in this article led to a book chapter published in 2023. Check it out here!
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