The life of the owner is reflected in the shop
I like the store.
I like restaurants of all genres. Clothing stores, general stores, and bookstores are all good. As long as I can see the faces of the owners and staff there and get a sense of their lives, I like both cozy places and places that make me stand up straight. As long as it's in line with the owner's vision for the kind of place the store should be.
That's why I visit the store often. And as I go, I think about it. What makes a good store? And what makes a good customer? I'm always thinking about these things.
Perhaps it's because I grew up as a "shop girl" in a broad sense. The fact that I open the house I live in now to the local community as a "salon" probably stems from this personal history. I'll talk about this topic again some other time.
That being said, let me at least give a simple self-introduction, like you'd do at a bar. I'm a philosopher. Tetsugaku. When I say it verbally, people often ask me to repeat myself, but if you read it in writing, I think people will understand. I teach philosophy at university and write books. It's a rare profession in Japan, with probably only a few hundred people doing it.
As a philosopher, I'm not professionally qualified to comment on the merits of shops. But to me, a shop is a place that invites philosophical thought and questions its implementation. I also believe that people who run shops can be philosophers or thinkers of a kind, regardless of their own personal beliefs.
So, as a philosopher, I would like to weave words about the shop here. This may, or perhaps even be a very rude thing to do. But as someone who makes a living from words, I would like to use all my strength to talk about my beloved shop. Because that's all I can offer.
The life of the owner of a shop is reflected in it. Running a shop means giving up your life up to now and for the future. This is true whether it's a restaurant, clothing store, or bookstore. Welcoming customers into a space as "your shop" means mobilizing all your sense and knowledge to create a kind of barrier.
I like stores that make you feel like the atmosphere is different the moment you step inside. I also like stores that you can casually enter from the outside, but once you go further inside and look back, you realize you've stepped into a completely different place.
The uniqueness of a "shop" that is different from public facilities and homes
A single shop owner, whose face you can see, offers the most private thing he knows - his life experiences - to the public market, in the sense that, in principle, "customers cannot choose." The contradictions and tensions that exist here make each "shop" special.
This is why shops are different from unquestionably public places like parks maintained by the government, government offices, police stations, and public libraries. They are also different from places like train stations, hospitals, and theaters, even if they are private. In these public spaces, the presence of the personal "owner" is not only unnecessary, but should probably be excluded. A personal sense of privacy is not appropriate in such places. But shops are different.
Conversely, a shop is also different from a typical private space like a home (one's own room). A private space is one that you should not enter without the permission of the "owner." To a certain extent, shops do have this element. For example, one way to praise a certain type of good shop is to say that it feels like "you're visiting the owner's home."
A friend of mine who owns a clothing store and whom I have been using for quite some time now has a "shop" that he sets up on the balcony of his home deep in the mountains of Ashiya, and opens it for one week a month.It's an incredible location, and it's literally nothing more than the owner's "home," but despite its location deep in the mountains, it's a popular shop known only to those in the know, attracting fashion enthusiasts from all over the country.
One of my favorite bars has been described as a place that feels like the owner's living room. I see the regulars at the bar so often that when we meet, we no longer exchange proper greetings, just a nod (isn't that what siblings are like?).
However, regardless of the metaphor or space, a "shop" is not a "home."
Even if your home doubles as a store, customers cannot enter if it is outside of business hours. However, conversely, if it is during business hours and there is no valid reason such as the store being fully booked, you cannot (and should not) refuse customers in principle.
A store is a place where goods and services are provided primarily through money. This "exchange" has a certain public quality. If you order a product or service from a menu and pay for it, the same thing should basically be provided in the same way. Conversely, if you pay the same amount but there is a difference in the quality or quantity of the product or service, the customer can complain, or they will quietly give up on the store.
Rather than being specific in reality, a shop is a public place, at least in the sense that there are such "expectations" and (a kind of professional) "obligations."
"Society" emerges through "households" and "shops"
Architect Riken Yamamoto, who was awarded the Pritzker Prize, known as the "Nobel Prize of architecture" in 2024, distinguishes between "ie" (home) and "mise" (shop) in his book "Regional Community Segmentation," which discusses the nature of housing in society of the future. Yamamoto argues that for a "society" to emerge in a community, it is not enough to have just an "ie" (home) where people can eat and sleep.
In modern urban areas, where office districts where workplaces are located and residential areas where homes are located are far apart, no matter how many residents there are, the area does not become a "society."
The key point Yamamoto emphasizes is the "store." No matter how small a business it may be, it is important that it is not just a place to go back to and sleep, but that it is only when there are more stores that clarify what the place provides to the local people and what function it serves that a community can become a society.
Is this just idealism?
Indeed, our lives have changed dramatically since the COVID-19 pandemic. Work from home has become increasingly common for those in occupations where it's possible, and residential areas where people might previously have simply gone home to sleep have suddenly become towns with workplaces. This has created a new need for establishments, even if they are small, such as places to eat out at lunchtime, cafes for a coffee break after dinner, and bars for a drink after work.
This wave of change has also hit the traditional residential area in Osaka where I live. Since the COVID-19 self-restraint period, many new stores have opened in the neighborhood, and the number of options for eating out and cafes nearby has increased to a degree that would have been unthinkable just a short time ago.
Looking around the city, we can see that while chain stores and other so-called capital-backed establishments are struggling and closing down in busy areas such as in front of train stations, there is an increasing number of independent establishments being opened in residential areas by local residents as owners or managers.In Osaka's dining scene in particular, there is a definite trend of famous chefs who once showed off their skills at popular restaurants in busy areas opening their own independent restaurants where they do not employ anyone else.
It's not just restaurants. For example, while large urban bookstores and major chains are struggling, independent bookstores, where the personal character of the owner is clearly reflected in the store design and book selection, are on the rise. Even clothing stores, small, independent shops in rural or residential areas, rather than in the downtown areas of big cities, are spreading information via Instagram and attracting discerning customers. I, too, often browse clothing stores and bookstores on my recent business trips to the countryside, and they're all interesting because they all have their own unique personalities and love for their items. There's no doubt that the countryside is packed with great stores with more passion than in metropolitan areas.
In the post-COVID era, we may be unexpectedly approaching an era approaching the "local community sphere" that Yamamoto envisioned at the time merely as an ideal. We may now be living in a world in which the "home" and the "shop," that is, private and public spaces, are side by side—perhaps for the first time since the postwar period of rapid economic growth—and in which the public and private are beginning to compete within the "shops" run by individuals.
If that is the case, are there any signs that the lost "society" in the region is beginning to emerge, as Yamamoto states?
Or is it just a passing fad?
I feel that right now, shops and the town I live in are more interesting than ever. It feels like the number of good shops is really increasing. Is this just a matter of timing in my own life? Or is there some kind of zeitgeist at play?
We still can't answer these questions.
But at least for me, I think the relationship between the town I live in and the people who live there has changed. I've never enjoyed bars as much as I do now, and I've never found clothing stores and bookstores as interesting as I do now. So I'd like to consider these questions through my own experiences here, because I believe that shops and towns have always been philosophical and, above all, products of their times.
So, welcome to our philosophical journey through the public face of the bazaar and the private face of the club that are so familiar and important to everyone as "shops."
I would be happy if you could join me on this journey for a little while longer.
