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Issue #10
The Konbini T-shirt Taste Test
Words by Cory Ohlendorf | Photography by Bandana
I first got the tip from my former coworker and current men’s fashion director of Nordstrom, Jian DeLeon. Before flying to Japan on one of my earlier trips, he told me to pick up a T-shirt from 7-11. I was confused. “It’s the best $5 T-shirt you’ll ever buy.” I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I trusted his sartorial knowledge to check it out once I landed in Tokyo.
And sure enough, as I scanned the shelves at the local konbini, there it was—a plain, crewneck T-shirt, wrapped up in a small silver package, hanging next to other essentials like socks, underwear and even a plain white button-down and nondescript black tie. These items are stocked “in case of emergency”. They’re for the salaryman who drank too much last night, missed the last train and slept in a capsule hotel (or on a park bench). He now needs to freshen up with a clean undershirt and maybe some new socks. Thankfully, he can pick them up at any corner convenience store, along with his egg salad sandwich and bottled coffee.
You see, it’s not just 7-11. All the major convenience stores in Japan stock similar T-shirts. Which then got me wondering: like the food, do people actually have preferences for who makes the best tee? You’ve no doubt seen taste tests on social media for those cult-favorite egg salad sandos. But what about a konbini tee taste taste? In the name of research, I picked up all three and gave them a test run.
So who comes out on top? That depends. I thought the 7-11 was GOAT. But I might’ve just been partial to them since it was my first. But I love them so much as undershirts, I’ve bought five already. I wear them on their own when it’s really hot out, but usually layer them under my denim shirts and crocheted camp collars.
But when I tried the Family Mart “Outer T-shirt” for this taste test, a new champ was crowned. These feel so damn good against the skin. They have a thicker, more luxurious feel and feature details like double stitching at the hems and a thicker ribbed collar. These are the kind of details that make it fit and feel like a T-shirt from a speciality brand—the kind that has no problem charging you $70 for a plain white tee. But this one hangs in a tiny clear package not far from the soy sauce-flavored rice crackers and strawberry Kit Kats.
When I haven’t gotten a chance to do my laundry, it’s comforting to know that I can run to my local konbini and pick up a reliable T-shirt that will ensure I look and smell fresh. So the next time you’re in Japan, pick one up.
Blue Blue Japan specializes in aizome, the traditional practice of indigo dyeing fabric. The technique dates back nearly 800 years and the natural Japanese indigo dye penetrates deep into the fabric fibers—meaning the color is less likely to fade over time. But it will develop its own patina and wear pattern, especially on a pair of pants like these workwear trousers. Cut in a relaxed-straight leg silhouette from a Tencel-Lyocell blend twill that's woven with a generous amount of cotton, they're soft yet durable and extremely comfortable. They're finished with utility-inspired patch pockets and will only get better looking the more you wear them.
Get It | $285 by Blue Blue Japan |
(ILLUSTRATION: Kissai)
The term otaku (オタク) has evolved over the past few decades. At the base level, it means someone who nerds out on a particular interest—especially in anime, manga, video games, or general tech devices. The word originated with a 1983 essay by Akio Nakamori in Manga Burikko. During this time, as the manga and anime industries grew, the fandom looked for ways to connect and found conventions, college clubs, and other social events fueled by their love of such fictional universes. Shared interests gave these strangers common ground. But the Japanese language offered no concrete way for unacquainted fans to casually (but not too casually) refer to each other. Since you rarely use the term "you" in Japanese, fans used the term otaku—a sort of honorific, somewhat ambiguous second-person pronoun—to refer to one another in a friendly way. Now, the word is an easy way to identify someone who goes all into a subject, geeks out or simply embraces the enthusiast mindset.
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