My host with the most, Mr S(Miss Ember dressed by Erté)
Your Nipponese correspondent took a break from some high-level knob-twiddling, and visited the Decadent Dandy Host Club on Saturday night. This kind of establishment is the cat's meow in the Far East, and it's no longer just the boys who are being entertained by maiko in Kyoto or hostesses in speakeasies, but the modern girls who are being pampered by dapper chaps with a penchant for tonsorial perfection.
Dressed in the latest suits from London and Paris, these mobos* cut a fine figure in full fig, with either pixie-ish tendrils of hair fringing exquisite ornamental faces, or a tower of backcombed locks nearly chafing the ceiling above them (t'would make an '80s New Romantic poet turn green with envy!). In fact, my host with the most, Mr S, admitted that they need assistance from the more senior fellows in wisping, sculpting and scaffolding their various do's.
In general, a typical host's hairstyle can be found in the popular Nipponese talkies,
such as these styles from Final Fantasy IIV.
Miss Ember was in a fine swoon throughout the proceedings, and had to be propped up by the gals as she murdered the local lingo with suave conversationalists Mr T and Mr S. I kept a tight hold on the delicate stem of my martini glass at all times as I was terribly distracted by the soiree of elegant Ethels that surrounded me. 'Twas heaven! However, I was quite taken aback by Mr S, who invited me to stroke his glorious, rather feathery crown of hair. I could hardly say no to the handsome young gent, and despite the amount of wax that had been liberally applied, I must say his fine mane was rath-er silky, glossy and luxuriant!
My gang of gals and our selected dandies chatted about many a topic, from the latest dances in the British and Nipponese music halls, Mr S's studies in Chinese, the hosts' romantic dramas with their young beaus, their great difficulty to stay awake in college after a late night shift at the Club, to the War, the price of silk stockings, cheese, French knickers & other sundries.
It was most curious to note that other patrons were bright young flappers, sporting Brooksie bobs and Eton crops, who were more than willing to spend a dime for some quality flirtation and pampering. There was hardly a dame in sight! As well, hostess gals had drinks with the boys and snuggled up to them affectionately like young lovers before heading off to similar establishments in neighbouring teahouses, where they themselves would be undertaking this same art of entertainment.
Interestingly, I found this Club in a pamphlet directory entitled: The Town Guide to Water Boys, "water" referring to the old Japanese phrase mizu shōbai ("water trade"), a name which I think gives these bars an (aptly) otherworldly notion. Traditionally, brothels and other places of ill but naughty repute were side by side with bath-houses, and thus may offer an explanation to the origins of this phrase (I suppose behind the wet gauze of onsen steam things got rather, erm, steamy, like the above print!). For a detailed peek into the more exclusive end of this intriguing realm, check out the real-life talkie The Great Happiness Space: Tales of an Osaka Love Thief.
Have also documented this tale in my Other Notes.
*modern boys
Dressed in the latest suits from London and Paris, these mobos* cut a fine figure in full fig, with either pixie-ish tendrils of hair fringing exquisite ornamental faces, or a tower of backcombed locks nearly chafing the ceiling above them (t'would make an '80s New Romantic poet turn green with envy!). In fact, my host with the most, Mr S, admitted that they need assistance from the more senior fellows in wisping, sculpting and scaffolding their various do's.
In general, a typical host's hairstyle can be found in the popular Nipponese talkies, such as these styles from Final Fantasy IIV.
Miss Ember was in a fine swoon throughout the proceedings, and had to be propped up by the gals as she murdered the local lingo with suave conversationalists Mr T and Mr S. I kept a tight hold on the delicate stem of my martini glass at all times as I was terribly distracted by the soiree of elegant Ethels that surrounded me. 'Twas heaven! However, I was quite taken aback by Mr S, who invited me to stroke his glorious, rather feathery crown of hair. I could hardly say no to the handsome young gent, and despite the amount of wax that had been liberally applied, I must say his fine mane was rath-er silky, glossy and luxuriant!
My gang of gals and our selected dandies chatted about many a topic, from the latest dances in the British and Nipponese music halls, Mr S's studies in Chinese, the hosts' romantic dramas with their young beaus, their great difficulty to stay awake in college after a late night shift at the Club, to the War, the price of silk stockings, cheese, French knickers & other sundries.
It was most curious to note that other patrons were bright young flappers, sporting Brooksie bobs and Eton crops, who were more than willing to spend a dime for some quality flirtation and pampering. There was hardly a dame in sight! As well, hostess gals had drinks with the boys and snuggled up to them affectionately like young lovers before heading off to similar establishments in neighbouring teahouses, where they themselves would be undertaking this same art of entertainment.
Interestingly, I found this Club in a pamphlet directory entitled: The Town Guide to Water Boys, "water" referring to the old Japanese phrase mizu shōbai ("water trade"), a name which I think gives these bars an (aptly) otherworldly notion. Traditionally, brothels and other places of ill but naughty repute were side by side with bath-houses, and thus may offer an explanation to the origins of this phrase (I suppose behind the wet gauze of onsen steam things got rather, erm, steamy, like the above print!). For a detailed peek into the more exclusive end of this intriguing realm, check out the real-life talkie The Great Happiness Space: Tales of an Osaka Love Thief.
Have also documented this tale in my Other Notes.
*modern boys
2 comments:
My God, Miss E! I dearly hope that's not a likeness of you in the second picture! But I note your interlocutor was a "Mr. S", not a "Sir S", so feel suitably confident that you would not dandy him overmuch... a proper match and all that... though I must confirm I shall never be able to achieve the nirvana of hair perfection to which these boys come so close. I think it must be an arcane secret of the Orient, or perhaps even more exclusively, of these strange Oriental ladies clubs...
When the brief was to go undercover....well....er, it was more a figure of speech...
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