I had done hours of research. I looked up which artists I wanted to check out. I mapped out the best way to get from one venue to the next so that I could see the ones that looked most interesting. I had muddled my way through impossibly confusing websites all in Japanese, with weird graphics that flew accross the page, to distract me from the fact that there weren't actually any clothes photographed on their site. It was all going to be worth it because I was going to get caught up in the frenzy for a couple of hours.
We saw nothing. I would have been OK with not seeing any of the shows, exhibitions, or whatever they do at fashion week, if there had been anyone at any of the shows for me to at least people watch. I had hoped to see a few eclectically dressed people, just so that I had something to share, or worse whisper about with Ben like the mean girls I see on TV do. The venues were completely empty, Ben and I waited for two shows to start, and saw almost no-one enter. We weren't allowed to enter because we didn't have a badge, which I didn't know I needed (but that's probably my fault). All we saw at fashion week were several very bored attendants, and even more bored looking attendees.
Tokyo is at about the peak of hanami (flower viewing) the sakura are bursting from every corner, and the parks are full of sake drinking picnickers. Yoyogi last weekend was exciting and alive, there were dancers, bands, drum circles, and drunk guys hanging out of trees like monkeys. I'm glad fashion week sucked, because I had a charming day in the park with my gorgeous husband, and I was introduced to the awesome combination of hip hop dance and hop scotch... Hip Hop Scotch?