The Five Things to Buy Before Your Trip to Japan
And Why They Are All SHOES
I’ve lived off and on in Japan since the 1970s, in various places. Most recently I’ve lived in Kyoto. The longest place I’ve ever lived is Tokyo. I think the shoe situation in Japan has changed in the last few decades, as Japanese people have gotten larger over the years, but when I first began traveling to Japan, it was impossible to find my shoe size.
Once, in 1976, while I lived in Fukuoka, I decided I needed running shoes. I went to the local sporting goods stores and asked to try on a pair. The clerk bought me the largest size they had for women. I think they were 24.5 cm, around a 7.5 in America. At that point I wore an 8.5, even a 9.
I decided these shoes fit. The clerk knew better. He tried to interest me in a men’s model. I was nineteen and self-conscious and not about to clomp around in men’s shoes.
The first time I wore those shoes I nearly crippled myself. I felt like one of Cinderella’s step-sisters, so eager to wear the glass slipper she sliced off the sides of her feet.
Later when I lived in Tokyo I found a shop in Shinjuku called TEN that catered to women with giant feet. I was ecstatic.
I’d been in Tokyo for a few years and my shoes had been worn to near nubbins. I’d take them regularly to Mister Minute for repairs. But there was only so much the Minute Men could do.
Finding TEN was like finding the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Only, I was the one supplying the gold, because those shoes were pricey!
Now when I travel to Japan it’s almost always in the summer. Perhaps because of my earlier experiences with shoes, I panic shoe shop in advance of my trip.
After much trial and error, blisters and band aids, I’ve discovered the five secrets to finding shoes perfect for summer travel in Japan.
Requirement #1: The shoe must be walkable. I will need to walk everywhere — racing to bus stops, trudging up old stone steps at mountain shrines, strolling hours in shopping arcades. It will be hot and inevitably it will rain, especially in June, which is when I usually arrive.
I need a shoe that is comfortable and will provide good support. I don’t ever want to give up the chase for want of an aching foot!
Requirement #2: The shoe must be easy to get on and off. This is Japan, after all. Entering a restaurant, visiting a friend, popping in to see a temple, I need to be able to get in and out of my shoes quickly. Even gracefully. There’s nothing more annoying than having to stand around while someone laboriously ties and unties shoe laces.
Requirement #3: The shoe should be a sandal that fits the above requirements but doesn’t look dorky with a sock. (Are there such sandals?)
After living in Kyoto for a while, I notice that even with sandals most people wear socks. Some women wear a strange little socklet kind of sheath over their toes that leaves their heels bare, if they wear sling-backs. Some of the socklets have separations for the toes so women can wear zori-style sandals.
Once I tried to enter the Orinasu-kan museum in Kyoto. The museum is in an old machiya that had once been a vibrant weaving center. There are still a few of the large jacquard looms on the second floor, and they offer demonstrations throughout the day.
As soon as I duly removed my sandals, arranged them neatly, and stepped up onto the smooth wooden entry hall, the ticket taker sharply scolded me for not wearing socks. He pointed to a basket full of “socks for sale.” I had to purchase and slip into a pair before I could enter the museum. The fact that there was an entire basket full made me suspect I wasn’t the only bumpkin gauche enough not to wear (or carry) socks. Still, reprimanded for my vulgar behavior, I blushed to my toenails.
Requirement #4: The shoe must be ready to withstand a heavy downpour and then dry quickly. Nothing more disgusting than squishing around in wet shoes — except maybe shoes that don’t dry properly and then stink. Or turn green with mold overnight.
Requirement #5: And here comes some of that nineteen-year-old vanity, the shoe/sandal needs to be relatively attractive. My feet are already big. I don’t want to wear something that will look too clownish when left in the genkan alongside the dainty slippers my Japanese women friends will undoubtedly wear. Finding footwear that can go from an all-day hike around tourist sites to a conference or a nice restaurant is something of a tall order. One of my friends calls a shoe like that “the holy grail.” Comfortable, durable, and attractive. Almost impossible to find!
I do have nice oxford-type shoes and ankle-boots with zippers that are both walkable and fashionable. But those only work in the cooler months when you can wear them with slacks, leggings, or dark tights and they can be dressed up or down. In the summer, it’s more of a challenge.
There are a lot more sandals now that fit the bill than there were in the 1970s, that’s for sure. Brands like ABEO, Merrell, and Keen make sandals for walking — and not just for displaying pretty pedicures. You’ll pay a bit more for them, perhaps. But if you’re going to invest in anything for your trip to Japan, invest in footwear.
Bring several pairs, you say?
That’s another option. And I always bring at least two pairs with me, my walking shoes and my running shoes.
But more than that challenges my next great tip: Five Things to Pack For Japan and Why All Must Fit in Only One Easy-to-Carry Bag.
Looking over my list of requirements, I feel some satisfaction. I’m no longer the teen willing herself to wear painfully small shoes. I’m the mature woman of wisdom! I’ve nailed what I need. Head on my shoulders, feet on the ground! I’ll be comfortable, appropriate, and dry walking all over Japan.
But just maybe… I should pack some sparkly thin sandals, a guilty-pleasure pair that will make me feel like Cinderella when I dash out to the local izakaya just before midnight. No socks at all.
