Issue #9

Words by W. David Marx | Photography courtesy

After 48 years in print, the Japanese lifestyle magazine Popeye remains a vital part of the country's consumer culture. Its unique coverage of fashion, music, interior goods, food and travel make it a monthly bible to the latest in Tokyo style, and increasingly, a vehicle for spreading Japanese tastes around the world.

The magazine debuted in the summer of 1976, the brainchild of an older editorial executive Yoshihisa Kinameri and his younger protege Jirō Ishikawa. They had been rogue editors at Heibon Publishing (currently, Magazine House), and while in exile at a poker card-manufacturing subsidiary, they edited two hit publications for other companies: a magazine about American ski culture called Ski Life and then a bible of American consumer goods called Made in U.S.A. The overwhelming success of these among young people encouraged Heibon to call Kinameri and Ishikawa back to the main office with the tantalizing offer of making their own magazine. They decided to base the magazine for young men focused on the athletic lifestyle of West Coast teens. Their first step was to get on a plane for Los Angeles to do research.

The magazine was a quick success, and it stoked renewed interest among Japanese teens in American pop culture. The effect was so immediate that rumors swirled around that the CIA secretly funded it as a psy-op. But from the beginning, the magazine focused on emerging American youth subcultures and became a go-to source for teens who wanted to know the latest going on overseas. In the very first issue, Popeye covered Jeff Ho's Zephyr surf shop, which sponsored the legendary Z-boys of skateboarding history fame.

With the growing respect for Japanese menswear in the late aughts, Popeye no longer just wanted to introduce readers to the latest global culture. Instead it became an important media resource for creating and celebrating the unique cosmopolitan culture emerging in Tokyo. Under the editorial guidance of frequent The Sartorialist subject Takahiro Kinoshita, Popeye experienced a renaissance in the mid-2010s, with a distinct new aesthetic that put trad-chic fashion set against the city's iconic mid-century establishments. And by reporting on similar lifestyles around the globe, it seemed like there were truly “city boys” in London, Paris and New York as well. By the late 2010s, Popeye stylist Akio Hasegawa pioneered the “big silhouette” look of loose sweat suits and sportswear that presaged the current wide fits of J.Crew. Kinoshita later left to run Lifewear magazine at UNIQLO among other projects, and Hasegawa currently runs his own brand Cahlumn using Popeye alumni to make its impressive catalog/magazine.

Even today Popeye continues to push a unique Tokyo aesthetic, and the audience has expanded out from young men to older guys, women, and foreign readers (who often can't even read the texts). Despite the advertisements from major global luxury brands, Popeye has its own sense of how to style such products into a laid-back look using teenage models. There are kids with great style sense walking over to the flower shop in chic gray sweatsuits or enjoying antique ceramics in their tatami rooms while wearing high-end tanktop undershirts. Compared to foreign fashion magazines, Popeye celebrates craftsmanship and urban exploration, especially among older eateries and generation-old shops rather than the latest trendy restaurants.

Popeye, especially as a print magazine, maintains a focus on concrete, analog things—real objects, real places, real people. And this may help ground the magazine in a time of Instagram and TikTok. Even with its social media accounts, Popeye offers an aspirational perspective on living in Tokyo and discovering the wonders hidden around a street corner or finding a great jacket from a small clothing brand. To this day Popeye remains a “magazine for city boys”, and now those city boys are everywhere.

Seiko, Japan’s preeminent watch brand, has some impressive entry-level automatic timepieces. Of course, the best and most famous among them has to be the “Samurai” dive watch—a modern classic known for its sturdy build, unique design and cult following. In fact, most of the nicknames for Seiko’s standard alphanumeric names are popularized by the brand’s massive fanbase of watch enthusiasts. But even Seiko’s own designers seem baffled by the Samurai name, saying that it was, perhaps, “the kind of design that would evoke a feeling of Japaneseness in the eyes of foreign people.” What we do know is that this is a rugged watch that debuted in the spring of 2004 and was discontinued around four years later. Even though it retailed for just a few hundred dollars, its short lifespan caused secondhand prices to surpass $2,000. Thankfully, Seiko has reissued the watch, with a slightly upgraded 44mm case that celebrates the blocky design that makes it so distinctive. It’s self-winding, with a power reserve of 41 hours and ISO scuba-approved to depths of 200 meters.

Kodawari (こだわり) is the Japanese term for their culture’s relentless pursuit of perfection. It is passion, persistence, commitment, and attention to detail. But it’s also much more than that. And I’ve come to learn that it’s also very personal. It’s partially rooted in pride, but not the petty kind. It is the kind of personal pride that you feel when you are alone and you know that you tried your best. It comes from that deeper presence inside your head that watches you and knows when you are cutting corners. Whenever you ignore this discipline, you feel weaker, and when you engage with it, you feel stronger. The Japanese artist Katsushika Hokusai is best known for The Great Wave, one of the most reproduced pieces of art in history. But, what many don’t know, is that Hokusai first painted his idea for the storm-churned sea at age 33. Nearly a decade later, he created a second version with greater detail, then another iteration eight years after that. Finally, at the age of 72, he mastered the scene he wanted to depict, and what The Met describes as “playing with perspective to make Japan’s grandest mountain appear as a small triangular mound within the hollow of the cresting wave.” This quest towards perfection? That’s kodawari.