Near the Kyoto railroad station, two women in such short skirts they seem almost naked, and such high heels they are hobbled in the awkward struggle to wrestle a neon sandwich board over the threshold of a chain restaurant. An old man with a cane stops to watch. Strikingly determined, powerfully coordinated despite the self-imposed impediments, they wear their sexy outfits like construction-worker's uniforms. In this culture of the geisha, where manga and school-girl porn froth over into street-styles of thirty year old women and even, yesterday, a sixty year old man in school-girl drag, female sexuality remains difficult for an outsider to decipher. But, here, style is at stake, which is always a kind of oppression. More hair-shirt than Victoria's Secret, those skirts and heels are brands of a fiendishly modern self-control.
training the bonsai / with copper wire / windswept style