A Personal Note #8: Waiting for Haruhi

This entry isn’t really about The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya.  I’ve said all I want to say about the film for now.  Instead, I want to talk about the experience of having gone to see it.  After all, it was my first event getting up close to the Japanese fandom.

I wasn’t sure what to expect.  Would there be a throng of people sleeping on the ground, having been there for days and days in advance?  Or were the stereotypes wrong, and I was going to be the lone crazy foreigner waiting outside the theater for a cartoon movie?  The truth was somewhere in between: I showed up at the same time as a small group of guys, and we were the start of the queue.  The wait began at four in the morning.

I was the least prepared person there.  Everyone else had layered clothing, hot drinks, manga and video games…  The guy right next to me even had a skier’s face mask.  Clever fellow.  With my one sweater and iPod, I just had to kind of dance in place to stay warm and entertained.  It’s a good thing I was very far from home.

A policeman came up to me around five.  I panicked a little: Oh no, somebody obviously called the cops to report suspicious vagrants outside a movie theater, we’re doomed.  But the others in line just bowed and said “good morning,” and the policeman kindly informed me that I needed to stand away from the disability assistance button on the wall.

He asked the others, “So, is this something famous?”
“Yes,” one said.  “Very famous.”
“Is that so?  Well, be careful.”  And he left, looking amused.  Slightly bemused, too.  I was just glad I didn’t have to say anything.

The sun rose at six.  At seven, staff opened the doors and congratulated us on our endurance.  It’s a funny phrase, “otsukaresan.”  But I really felt it to be true at the time.

By some cruel happenstance, the ticket line was already packed by the time we got there.  I was one of the last people to get tickets for the 8:00 showing, prearranged to be in a horrible corner seat that would sprain my neck.  I still took it like manna from heaven, and I immediately toddled in to take a look at the goodie counter.

Staff were handing out pieces of paper, which I later realized were checklists for Haruhi movie merchandise.  Many people seemed well on their way to finishing them already.

I don't recall seeing this on the list. I'm sure a fight would've broken out.

Once we were seated and the movie was underway, I noticed something strange: The place was dead silent.  I guess from attending movie premieres in America, I’m used to cheering, or at least some light applause, that sort of thing.  With this crowd, there wasn’t a clap to be heard.  Some people were even waiting for noisier parts before they chewed their popcorn.  At the end, as if waking from a spell, everyone slowly filed out while quietly giving their opinions to their friends.

Looking back, I’m surprised at how different Japanese fans are.  Not better or worse, really.  Just very different.

The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya: Impressions, A Review, Something Like That

I’m back from a morning screening of The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya.  I promised Yumeka that I’d give a full report tout-suite, so here we go, organized haphazardly with as few introductory frills as possible.  As for spoilers, please proceed at your own risk.

Looks like “The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya” is the official English title, since that’s what we got on the screen in white letters at the very start.  The movie begins from Kyon’s eye view, as he reluctantly gets out of bed in the morning.  This is a motif that will repeat itself several times more before the two and a half hours are up.  From there, we get an exacting adaptation of the novel.  With the exception of a line or two, the script is utterly faithful to the original.  This was a big bonus for me, since my Japanese is quite poor.  I was able to follow along, and I was entertained enough to ignore the gaps in understanding.

The identity of who caused the incident is both mysterious and totally not.  We don’t get to hear Tanabata-Era Nagato say the name, but her lips are animated enough that we can actually lip-read two of the three syllables.  I suspect this is more a matter of following the book’s style than really expecting anyone to be surprised.  By the way, the animation is gorgeous, as expected of KyoAni.  The numerous instances where Kyon finds himself at a FamilyMart hint at where some of the money came from.

There is an updated version of the original Haruhi opening.  The music sounds slightly different, and Aya Hirano sounds a little harder or deeper than she originally was, but it’s pretty much the same song.  The animation is a rainbow pattern of Haruhi silhouettes doing various things in unison, while in a separate window the club members are shown entering one by one and gathering around the heater.  At the end of the “OP,” there’s only one silhouette left, and she slowly disappears into a trapdoor.  Spooky.

Speaking of music, up until the disappearance happens, we get regular music from the TV show.  But immediately afterwards and for the rest of the movie, it’s mostly orchestral arrangements.  A lot of it sounds rousing and adventurous, especially when Kyon starts putting the pieces together.  I liked it as a tone-setter.

Seeing everything in motion before my eyes, I now definitely see the story’s homage to Back to the Future Part II. Kyon hiding from himself and Mikuru, for one, but in the café scene where Alt-Koizumi describes the possibilities of what’s happened, he draws a diagram on a napkin suspiciously similar to Doc Brown’s explanation of the alternate 1985.  That was kind of neat.

Asakura’s last scene was fabulous.  If there was one moment when I was truly on the edge of my seat, that was it.

Yuki… Wow, where to start?  Alt-Yuki’s voice is higher, more fragile and uncertain sounding.  It’s actually kind of freaky, seeing this person who is almost Nagato Yuki in every way including the way she sounds, but ever so slightly off.  Props to Chihara Minori for her voice work.

The moe for Alt-Yuki is incredibly strong.  KyoAni added some details: When she holds Kyon’s sleeve when he’s about to leave her apartment, she not only blushes, but the tops of her ears turn red also.  When Kyon decides to activate the emergency program and returns the Literature Club application to Yuki, the book says that Kyon can’t see her expression.  In the movie, she has a look on her face like she’s about to burst into tears, but then she just barely holds it in.  Ah, that scene really hurt…  But it was very well done, a great embellishment.

Kyon’s realization at the climax, that he’s been having fun and that he wants everything back, is handled with Evangelion-esque abstractions and conversations with avatars.  I wasn’t expecting that.  It was brief and quite deftly handled, though; better to see Kyon actually argue with himself than to simply hear his monologue at such an important time.

Shippers are in for a delight.  I won’t say how, but Kyon demonstrates real attraction to and affection for Haruhi in one of the last scenes.  Yuki also gets a great rooftop scene with Kyon, too, where he may (or may not) have called her by her first name for the first time.  Again, these are KyoAni embellishments that made the whole thing so much better.

The film ends not as I thought it would (perhaps with some version of Hare Hare Yukai): After Kyon says his last line from the book, it’s just plain black and white scrolling credits, set to a song sung by Chihara Minori with no accompaniment.  I couldn’t get the entirety of it, but it sounded like Alt-Yuki, or real Yuki in her heart of hearts, telling us not to forget… something.  It was haunting.

Lastly, I was happy to see at the very end of the credits, in English:

Special Thanks
All fans

That was nice.  And when you watch, remember that there’s something afterwards!

Okay, I think that ought to do it.  This is literally twice the length of a usual blog entry.  I’ll write about my actual experience next time, if there’s interest.

Oh, I also got a booklet with what looks like exclusive art from Noizi Itoh.

To the right, an ad for the upcoming "Solanin" movie. That was a pleasant surprise.

Not sure, though.

God…  This was worth the long journey (I’ll talk about that later if there’s interest), but right now I am so tired.

A Primer on Japanese Youth Language

For the record, I have never seen anyone in Japan who really looks like this.

Last weekend, during a foreign teachers’ conference, I chose to attend a seminar on “Japanese words,” which really meant “words that Japanese people under 30 actually use.”  It was quite informative, and the college kids running the show gave us a nice handout with all the words to take home.  So in the spirit of free knowledge, I’m going to share some of them with you now:

Bucchake – Honestly; to tell the truth

Donbiki – Creepy; chilling (The example given was a weirdo in a hoodie, if that helps)

Koibana – Love talk

Majide – Really?  (If you’re an uncouth punk, “gachide” is also acceptable)

Meccha/Chou – Very; totally

Nikoichi – Literally “two people are one”; best friends forever (Apparently popular to write on purikura)

Okeru – To go karaoke-ing

Puroi – Like a pro; skilled

Tsureshon – Going to the bathroom together (Very vulgar, sort of like saying “let’s take a team piss”)

Yabai – Literally “risky”; yabai can be used like meccha, but is often used by itself to mean something like “oh crap!”

Komoe-sensei is one hip little dudette.

I’m pretty sure I’ve heard a couple of these in anime, particularly “yabai.”  But then again, when characters talk, these words don’t pop out to my ears quite like they do when, for instance, I hear kids chatting on the train.  Perhaps the words are used less in anime scripts, or, since anime Japanese is a bit different after all, it might just be a matter of delivery.

Then again, sometimes I really notice.  I’m looking back to the first episode of Kimi ni Todoke, remembering the way the girls talked as they gossiped about Sawako.  Or episode 3 of Durarara!!, with the teenagers glued to their cell phones.  It seems to me that when young people in anime actually talk like young people in real life, with all the “majide”s and such in full effect, it’s frequently meant to call attention to their youth. Or perhaps their trendiness?

Finally, this picture makes sense. Image by dawy (http://dot7.sakura.ne.jp/dawy/)

It’s the end of the day here, but for those of you in earlier time zones, have a happy Setsubun.  As the kids explained it to me today: “Spring comes tomorrow, so today we throw beans at the oni for good luck.”  Right, of course.  That makes perfect sense.

Seiyuu Rap Battle: “Renai Circulation” versus “Stroll Concerto”

“Now what you hear is not a test / I’m rappin’ to the beat
And me, the groove and my friends / We’re gonna try to move your feet”
- Sugar Hill Gang, “Rapper’s Delight”

This week, the fourth Bakemongatari opening theme, “Renai Circulation,” has been released to the joy of fandom worldwide.  In case you forgot how it goes:

It’s terribly catchy.

For a bishoujo anime song, “Renai Circulation” has a surprising amount of straight rap.  It feels almost as if the bizarre rap-rock interlude from K-ON!’s “Fuwa Fuwa Time” was just testing the waters for this, the ultimate moe rap. Still, the pop chorus and Hanazawa Kana’s sugar-sweet voice almost disguise the fact that this IS hip-hop.  It’s not “Fuck Tha Police,” obviously, but it’s a foray into realms seldom explored by anime music, let alone music for this sort of anime.

But are we seeing history?  Is this the first time it’s happened?  Actually, no, it isn’t.  Even before Lucky Star’s famous opening, “Motteke! Sailor Fuku” in 2007 (Edit: Thank you, zzeroparticle!), during the first season of Ichigo Mashimaro in 2005, the character CD for Matsuoka Miu featured a song called “Stroll Concerto,” in which seiyuu Orikasa Fumiko reveals a remarkable talent for MCing in the East Coast style.  Give it a listen:

Brilliant, isn’t it?  I love it.

I know that this is basically manufactured music.  The really sad thing is that neither of these seiyuus will see a dime of royalties from these songs; profits all go to corporate, which doesn’t really befit rap’s original purpose as grass-roots street poetry.  But as far as diversity goes, it’s interesting.  Many anime fans I know avoid popular music, and now here they are listening to the  anime equivalent of “Rapper’s Delight.”  Who knew it would be so darn cute?

Anime and the Greek Foot: A Pediaphilic Odyssey

Today, as I was making my blog rounds, my attention was drawn to this post on Ogiue Maniax, not necessarily for the subject matter (though his experience with live mahjong is a fun read; I recommend it) so much as for the opening picture.  For ease of reference, I’ll reproduce it here:

Now, I’d like to draw your attention to Saki’s foot.  Notice that her second toe is slightly longer than the “big” first toe.  In podiatry this condition is called Morton’s Toe, and it occurs in approximately one in ten people.  So it’s not terribly rare, but it is an unusual trait.  Chalk it up to one more moe trait in Saki, I suppose…

But wait– This reminded me of the last scene in episode 12 of A Certain Scientific Railgun, where Saten embraces Uiharu and apologizes for all the trouble she’s caused.  Let’s see, I had it here somewhere.

It’s less pronounced in her left foot, but Saten Ruiko also has Morton’s Toe.  Interesting.

But wait!  Durarara!! episode 2 also had bare feet!  In the scene where Rio gets saved from the brink of death.  I remember this distinctly because she had a pedicure, which is unusual in anime.  Pink, no less.  Does she…

Yes, Kamichika Rio also has it!

Oh dear.  So what’s going on here?

Rape of the Sabine Women, by Pietro da Cortona, 1627-29.

Well, outside of medicine, this condition also has another, more colloquial name: the Greek foot. Supposedly this comes from the fact that the later rulers of Egypt, who were Greeks (e.g. Cleopatra), possessed this feature as part and parcel of their famed beauty.  On a more practical level, the name probably comes from the fact that statues from the Hellenistic and Roman periods nearly all possess this trait.  Naturally, when the Renaissance and Neoclassicism arrived in western Europe, the trend was revived and passed on.

Sora no Otoshimono, by Studio AIC, 2009.

So, here’s my pet hypothesis: The Greek foot as a symbol of beauty has survived in the western art world for hundreds of years.  As western art techniques were brought into Japan, so too were these memetic artifacts of western culture, dictating that a long toe on a girl is attractive.  Today’s Japanese artists, who benefit from two cultures’ worth of training, then proceed to incorporate the Greek foot into their projects.

Here's an interesting case from Seitokai no Ichizon: One girl has it, the other doesn't. It's some proof that this isn't careless, at least.

Of course, I could be completely missing a separate history of the Greek foot in Japan.  I could also be overaccounting for a simple moe trait, making too much out of minutiae (it wouldn’t be the first time).  But assuming foot fetishism is alive and well in this country, it’s kind of interesting.

As a parting note: Nagi from Kannagi doesn’t have it, and Nana from Nana & Kaoru most certainly does.  I’ll leave you to find those on your own, though.

Otoyomegatari, Youth and Manhood

I reached 25,000 hits sometime last week.  I can’t think of anything particularly deep or retrospective to mark the occasion, though, so let’s just keep going.  Thank you for reading my blog.

Otoyomegatari, page one.

Victorian Romance Emma is one of my favorite manga series.  Kaoru Mori’s line work is gorgeous, and her historical research is obsessive in a way that only a woman with a peculiar lust for English maids can pull off.

Mori’s newest project, Otoyomegatari (or A Young Bride’s Tale), is a departure from Emma in many ways:  As before, we have nineteenth century lovebirds, but this time they’re from the nomadic clans of Persia, and they’re already married by family arrangement.  So immediately there’s a different dynamic, focused more on these two getting to know each other rather than struggling simply to have that privilege.

Also, the couple in question is an eighteen year-old girl married to a twelve year-old boy.  But that isn’t nearly as disquieting as you’d think it would be, probably because Karluk acts far more mature than any twelve year-old I’ve ever met.

To be fair, he has to keep up with his wife.

Youth culture is a recent invention.  Its development is actually pretty simple to outline:  After the industrialization of England and the movement of people into cities, something needed to be done about the children of common workers.  The public didn’t want kids in the factories, but there was nothing else for them to do.  And so the Victorian Age saw the advent of public schools, which resulted in a new type of person who wasn’t a child, but wasn’t yet qualified to take the responsibilities of adulthood.

Over the last century and a half, the concept has been refined, processed and exported around the world.  Now youth culture is ubiquitous– Just look at all that stuff I wrote about Durarara!! in my last entry.  But it hasn’t always been this way.  In the time of Otoyomegatari, at least, it doesn’t exist.  Karluk was a child, and now he is a man.  He still defers to his father, but he is expected to take care of his house and look after his wife, both of which he does admirably.

Of course, we’re getting a very rosy portrait from Kaoru Mori, rooted more in romance and the exotic than anything else.  But Karluk and his behavior is a nod to how we’ve historically treated adulthood, and that’s pretty intriguing.  What were teenagers like before they were expected to rebel?

Twelve years old. God, I love this kid.

Durarara!!: Party Time in the Heisei Generation

My desk at school is a treasure trove of things forgotten by past teachers.  This includes a small stack of worn out, sun-bleached books, one of which is a history text called The Emergence of Modern Japan: An Introductory History Since 1853, by Janet E. Hunter, published in 1989.

All images shamelessly lifted off Random Curiosity. I'm sorry, Omni, but I'm really quite tired tonight...

It’s a curious relic, this book.  Japan was still an industrial powerhouse, threatening the US with its machine-like work ethic and impenetrable bushido.  It wasn’t called the “bubble economy” yet, because nothing had burst.  Hunter spends much of the conclusion talking about how successful Japan is now, and in the very last paragraph she only briefly forecasts how this prosperity might collapse:

“Much of Japan’s success before and since the war has been due to the existence of a basic degree of consensus within Japanese society…  The disappearance of such a degree of unity and consensus would mark a major turning point in the evolution of modern Japan, and two factors in particular may pose a threat to its continuing existence. One is that it could well be called into question if economic growth and rising standards of living encounter serious setbacks.  Secondly, the accession of the new Heisei emperor in January 1989 symbolizes the advent of a new generation, which has known little of the hardship and adversity of earlier years.  Should this new generation feel unable to go along with the established consensus, the consequences for Japan, and the rest of the world, could be even more fundamental.”

It’s beautiful, how accurate this is.  We know that the first condition already happened in the 90s. And as for the second…

Sad confession: I have an illogical shipper-oriented brain that desperately hopes these two are a love-love couple.

I’ve already spilled some ink about anime’s various messages of disillusionment (“Revisiting the Post-Apocalypse: Kara no Kyoukai’s Magic Dystopia”) and non-conformity (“Toradora! and the Dilemma of Masculinity”), but I believe it bears mentioning again: The new generation is not happy with its lot, and things are changing very quickly.  Today’s young people are not interested in jumping the social hoops of their parents, judging by the rise of eternal part-timers and the willfully unemployed.  So what takes the place of a “game” that was once so crucial to society?

Entertainment, of course.  Pure entertainment.  Millions of young people with time on their hands and energy to spare (if not money or future prospects) are bored out of their blessed minds.  It’s like the reason why movie theaters do well in recessions.  This generation born in peace, breast-fed on luxury and brought crashing into a stagnant, hopeless adulthood is going to seek out as much entertainment as it possibly can, in as weird and as random a form as it can get.

The face of dissatisfaction.

It hardly needs mentioning that the backdrop of Durarara!! is not the real Ikebukuro ward, as it exists in the real Tokyo metropolis.  These are not real people living real lives.  Like Digitalboy says, they’re more like crazy pulp characters than anyone you might actually bump into in Tokyo.  But Durarara!! is faithful to the spirit of Heisei: the bored tribe of youth, fueled by urban legends and Internet bravado, endlessly looking for something interesting.  And in that sense, everything you will see for the next twelve-odd episodes is one hundred percent True.

The Cutting-Edge Music of Hanamaru Kindergarten

I remember sitting in the audience at Anime Expo last summer, hearing the Gurren-Lagann staff announce their newest project to roaring fans.  Wow, a collaboration between Gainax and Square-Enix!  The promo video lovingly laid out the possibilities: Gurren-Lagann + FullMetal Alchemist + Shikabane Hime? Oh, what could this amazing project be?  It’s going to be big, it’s going to be awesome, it’s… a, a show about kindergarteners?  Seriously?

So, I wasn’t expecting much when I queued up Hanamaru Kindergarten last week.  But now I take back all the disappointment I felt that day, many moons ago.  This is actually a really entertaining show!  As expected of Gainax, there’s also some surprising innovation.

The music of Hanamaru Kindergarten has two major currents running through it… well, three, if you count the more regular acoustic instrumentals.  The first one is Gamewave, which bands like MOSAIC.WAV have popularized as “Akiba-Pop.”  It’s upbeat, often very complex music that takes its tools from first-generation gaming systems and old-Internet-style midi.  You can hear some of it in the scene where the teachers are introducing themselves to the new students.

The second current, though, and the more interesting one to me, is what you hear in the scene pictured above.  Anzu discovers kindergarten to a soundtrack of xylophone melodies over a gentle electronic beat.  It’s built to sound simple and innocent, yet the deliberation with which it builds atmosphere is far from just childish.  This is clearly the influence of Lullatone.

Pictured: The Raindrop Melody Maker, a fun little program from the Lullatone website.

In the late 90s, Shawn Seymour was living with his girlfriend Yoshimi in Japan, studying by day and composing music at night.  But because Yoshimi was asleep and he didn’t want to wake her, Shawn’s compositions were largely lullabies.  Eventually, she would wake up and contribute lyrics to the songs, which was how they became the husband-wife band Lullatone. Today, Shawn does albums and Japanese children’s shows, and together they’re responsible for some very unique music that they call “pajama pop.”

Here’s a perfect example (with a lovely video to match), “Pajama Party Pop.”

Here’s another good one, “The Bathtime Beat.”

Lullatone’s latest work is a collection of bedtime songs that Shawn made for his son, “Songs That Spin In Circles.”  It’s in this same vein and quite good; I recommend it.

In any case, the presence of this sound in Hanamaru Kindergarten forces me to conclude that either 1) Gainax vigilantly keeps its ear on the music scene, or 2) the staff has children who watch daytime television.  Not that they’re mutually exclusive.  I’ll probably be buying the OST when it comes out.

Two Mini Entries on Dance in the Vampire Bund

The Logistics of Letting the Cat Out of the Bag

"Mina Tepes." I can only imagine that her father has precognitive abilities and an odd sense of humor.

The premiere of Dance in the Vampire Bund came at a good time.  Inspired by the popularity of series like True Blood and Twilight, a group of graduate students recently conducted a political simulation of what might happen if vampires suddenly revealed their existence to the world. The simulation only works with the American side of things, and it assumes integration rather than the vampire separatist movement we’re seeing in Vampire Bund.

It also generously assumes we don’t just panic and start waving torches and pitchforks.  But it’s interesting reading.

A noteworthy twist: Not all organizations are equal.  The CIA and the armed forces have each been secretly working with vampires for years, while the FBI has the unenviable task of upgrading its entire weapons stock and procedures just to make the arrest of immortal super-predators somewhat within their capacity.  Will the political realm of Mina Tepes’ special autonomous region work with this kind of depth?  Further episodes will tell.

She Wants To Suck Your Blood

“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.”
- Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

Anime sure has taken well to child vampires.  On a technical level, they’re a match made in heaven.  In what other medium can you convincingly portray a little girl with the sensibilities of an adult?  Vampires also take some of the guilt out of lusting after nymphets, since she’s not underage really if she’s 900… right?

Well, Hazuki really is fourteen. Small graces.

The justification only goes so far— Good lord, what’s this I hear about the Vampire Bund manga involving lotion and virginity tests?  Bearing in mind the vampire as a walking rape metaphor after Stoker, it all possesses a disturbing clarity: The child vampire is barely pubescent, yet possessed of an adult sexuality.  Her hunger/lust is the most natural thing about her, like Lolita if she was actually the sexpot Humbert Humbert imagined her to be.

Maybe that’s unfair.  But initial image searches turned up an awful lot of micro-bikini pictures of Mina.  I’m kind of grateful that the anime shows her in some decent clothes.

Class and Inconsistency in Ladies versus Butlers!

“With champagne wishes and caviar dreams.”
- Robin Leach, Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous

Oddly enough, I’m enjoying Ladies versus Butlers! It’s a guilty pleasure (ghostlightning must be going into conniptions right now), but somehow it hits the right entertainment buttons.

I’m well aware that it’s a cheap fantasy:  An elite school of would-be servants and masters, each honing their skills for future lives of fantastic luxury.  Oh, and by the way, look at the sexy high school girls!  Even if it hasn’t been done in this specific form before, it’s all terribly familiar.

The setting presentation isn’t very consistent, either.  For example:

I hate to naysay people who work so hard on free fansubs, but I take my tea rather seriously.

For an uptight rich girl, Miss Selnia Iori Flameheart’s taste in tea is suspiciously unrefined.  Orange Pekoe is only the most basic grade of whole leaf tea.  For example, Fortnum & Mason’s Maharani First Flush Darjeeling (which sells at a whopping 40 GBP for 100 grams) is classified FTGF OP, or “Finest Tippy Golden Flowery Orange Pekoe.”  Just ordering a cup of “Orange Pekoe” by itself doesn’t mean very much at all, except in the context of your average commoner maid café.  Which is essentially what this whole opening scene is about, yes?

Sometimes the hoi polloi can surprise you, though.  I don’t know who made it happen first, but Lucky Star/Lucky Channel’s prediction was remarkably on the nose: Drill-hair really did become the next big thing for female anime characters.  In fact, if Ladies versus Butlers! is any indication, we seem to have hit some sort of critical drill-hair mass.

But have you ever stopped to consider how much a moe-moe trait actually costs?

You should see what E Minor has to say about you: http://moesucks.wordpress.com/2009/12/30/ladies-vs-butlers-ep-1/

Assume a head of average Japanese hair.  Let’s say down to the shoulderblades, straight, black, not much volume.  First we have to color all those locks a beautiful blond, which according to this source will easily cost over 10,000 yen.  After that, we have to do one hell of a perm…  We’ve just damaged the hair with tons of bleaching, so we’ll have to take the average of the more expensive prices, let’s say 13,000 yen.

But you know, this isn’t going to work, not with just the raw materials.  We need lots of hair for those voluminous curls, and that means hair extensions!  This is where it gets dicey, though, because the prices I’ve researched go anywhere from 12,000 to 200,000 yen.  I’m going to assume more expensive than less.

It adds up to quite a lot.  The initial treatment could easily cost 1,000 USD or more, and the monthly upkeep cost (dying and perming new hair, reattaching extensions) would cost more than my monthly food budget.  And this is all so one character can have her crazy hair.  Otaku sure have expensive tastes, when they want them.

But, all that said, I do find it kind of fun.