The Showa Generation Learned Love and Heartbreak Through Songs

Popular songs from Japan’s Showa and early Heisei eras often told stories of love, heartbreak, longing, and marriage with surprising emotional depth. Listening to those old hits during a weekend drive, I found myself wondering whether our generation learned more about romance from music than we realized. This is not a simple nostalgia piece, nor a claim that the past was better. It is a quiet reflection on how songs once gave shape to love, parting, and the hope of being connected to someone.

 

Over the weekend, I was driving with my wife sitting beside me, and the background music was made up of what people would probably call old popular songs.

On Apple Music, I have created a playlist called “Japanese Hits I Love,” a name that sounds extremely Showa-era in spirit. It includes not only songs from the Showa period but also some from the Heisei years, gathering together the hit songs of my youth.

Recently, the number of songs in the playlist has grown quite a bit. When I play it while driving, it now lasts long enough to keep us entertained for a good while.

Whether it is Yuming, Seiko Matsuda, or Miyuki Nakajima, they all sang about women’s feelings with great care.

Yuming, in particular, was exceptional.

It is said that almost all of her lyrics were inspired by her feelings for her husband, Masataka Matsutoya. Even so, the way she placed such deep emotion onto such light, graceful melodies is truly remarkable.

My personal favorite is “Navigator,” though there are many other wonderful songs as well.

Seiko Matsuda is one year older than I am, so she is almost of the same generation.

It was the golden age of idols, including groups such as Candies. At the time, idols somehow felt a little distant to me, and I did not pay much attention to the lyrics. But when I listen to them carefully now, I realize that many of those songs were saying something quite meaningful.

I tended to prefer male singers, so I often listened to bands such as Bakufu Slump and Kome Kome Club.

A song like “Under the Big Onion” could easily bring tears to my eyes, because I saw in it something of my own awkwardness in love.

Some people mock those days as an age when romance was placed above everything else.

To be sure, there must have been people who felt suffocated by an atmosphere in which love and marriage were treated as almost natural and inevitable.

It is not hard to imagine that there were people who could not ride that wave.

Even so, it was also a time when the story of falling in love, sometimes parting, still loving someone, and eventually being joined with the person one loved flowed naturally through society.

Looking back now, I cannot help feeling that perhaps it was not such a bad thing.

Of course, the rise in late marriage, lifelong singlehood, and the declining birthrate today cannot be explained away by saying that popular songs alone could have changed everything.

The issue is not that simple.

Still, I wonder whether society might benefit from having a little more room for songs that treat love and marriage as one natural story within a human life.

Since I do not know much about today’s music, perhaps it is a mistake for me to write as if I understand the matter.

I also do not know whether the Showa generation, raised on songs like these, was truly happier.

Of course, it is important for each person to live strongly in their own way.

Even so, people fall in love, lose their way, part from one another, and still come to love someone again.

For those of us in the Showa generation, I think songs taught us quite a lot about how to love, and how to say goodbye.

Perhaps we learned love and farewell not from textbooks, but from the songs playing quietly beside us. 

 

・・・ 

Vocabulary for Learners 

1. heartbreak　失恋、心が傷つくこと。

“love and heartbreak” で「恋と別れ」「恋愛の喜びと痛み」という自然な表現になります。

2. longing　切ない思い、憧れ、慕情。

日本語の「情念」「思慕」に近いですが、英語では少し柔らかく詩的な響きがあります。

3. with great care　丁寧に、細やかに。

“They sang about women’s feelings with great care.” は「女心を丁寧に歌っている」に対応しています。

4. exceptional　秀逸な、並外れた。

“Yuming, in particular, was exceptional.” で「とくにユーミンは秀逸だ」というニュアンスです。

5. graceful melodies　軽やかで優美なメロディー。

「軽やかなメロディー」を、単に “light melodies” とすると少し薄くなるため、ここでは “graceful” を加えています。

6. awkwardness in love　恋愛下手、不器用な恋愛ぶり。

“I saw in it something of my own awkwardness in love.” で「恋愛下手だった私に重ね合わせた」という意味になります。

7. suffocated　息苦しさを感じる、圧迫される。

恋愛や結婚を当然視する空気に対して使うと、現代的な読者にも配慮した表現になります。

8. ride that wave　その流れに乗る。

“people who could not ride that wave” で「その波に乗れなかった人」という自然な英訳です。

9. lifelong singlehood　生涯未婚。

“late marriage, lifelong singlehood, and the declining birthrate” で「晩婚化、非婚化、少子化」に対応しています。

10. not from textbooks, but from...　教科書からではなく、〜から。

最後の一文では、歌から人生を学んだという余韻を出すために使っています。

 

Fireflies, Hydrangeas, and the Quiet Strength of Early Summer

Early summer in Kamakura brings gentle breezes, deepening green hills, fireflies along quiet streams, and hydrangea buds preparing to bloom. On an evening walk with my dog, I found small signs of life everywhere — in the air, by the water, and even in plants I had thought were lost to winter.

Over the past few years, whenever the long May holidays came to an end, strong winds seemed to blow just as the season was shifting forward.

This year, however, there has been nothing like that.

Only a gentle breeze.

The temperature and humidity are just right.

The green of the mountains is slowly becoming deeper.

It is a season filled with life.

 Last night, while taking Anne for a walk, I went to see the fireflies in the neighborhood.

In Kamakura, more and more small streams have been cleaned and cared for, and places where fireflies can be seen have gradually increased.

There is one quiet stream with very few people around.

I had a feeling there might be quite a few fireflies there, so I went to take a look.

And there they were, flying in good numbers.

After enjoying them for a while, I came home, not wanting to disturb the neighbors.

Hydrangea buds are also growing larger here and there.

I wonder how much longer it will be before they bloom.

I am looking forward to it.

Come to think of it, there was also an avocado plant that my wife had carefully grown from a seed.

We had thought it had withered away in the cold of this past winter. 

But today, to my surprise, I noticed a new side shoot growing from it.

 

Then I wondered how the others were doing.

When I looked, the banyan fig and the rubber plant had also put out fresh new shoots.

From a human point of view, it feels like a miraculous comeback.

But from the plants’ point of view, perhaps it is simply what they were meant to do.

Maybe this is what vitality really means.

The winter cold was not insignificant, but this year the seasons seem to be moving very clearly.

If only it does not become as hot as last year, I would have nothing to complain about.

But then again, what kind of summer will this year bring?

 

For now, early summer is quietly showing us how life returns. 

 

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

gentle breeze　穏やかなそよ風。本文では、初夏の気持ちよい空気を表す表現です。

humidity　湿度。日本の季節感を英語で書くときによく使う単語です。

fireflies　蛍。単数形は firefly です。

stream　小川。river よりも小さく、静かな流れの印象があります。

hydrangea　紫陽花。日本の梅雨前後の風景を表す代表的な花です。

wither away　枯れてしまう、しおれてなくなる。植物だけでなく、希望や力が失われる場合にも使えます。

side shoot　脇芽。植物の茎の横から出てくる新しい芽です。

banyan fig　ガジュマル。英語では banyan や banyan fig と呼ばれます。

rubber plant　ゴムの木。観葉植物としてよく知られる表現です。

vitality　生命力、活力。今回の記事の中心にある言葉です。

miraculous comeback　奇跡の復活。少しユーモアを含みながら、驚きを表せる表現です。

 

How an Old-School Man Should Drink After a Hangover

A workplace welcome and farewell party, a little too much alcohol, and the familiar regret of a hangover the next morning. This essay reflects on how drinking culture has changed, especially for older men who grew up in a different era. What once felt normal—second parties, karaoke, and casual drinking invitations—now requires much more care. Alcohol can make people happy, but it can also make social situations complicated. Sometimes, even the photos left on one’s smartphone the next morning are enough to remind us of that. In the end, perhaps the safest and happiest way to drink is simply at home, with one’s wife.

 

Last night, there was a welcome and farewell party for the laboratory department. As usual, I drank too much, and today my head hurts a little.

“Why did I drink so much?”
That is what I always think on the morning after drinking, but regret always comes too late.

Of course, I was meeting the new staff members almost for the first time. Even with the others, if they belong to different sections, I hardly know their faces. We may talk only a few times a year.

So when the conversation starts to flow, the alcohol also starts to flow, and before I know it, I am more drunk than I expected.

Even so, I did not drift into karaoke afterward, which would have been quite normal before the pandemic. I simply went home.

After the first party ends, wandering around and waiting for someone to say, “Come on, let’s go to the next place!” has always seemed a little shabby to me.

On the other hand, I have always thought that people who quietly disappear before anyone notices look somehow cool.

Now that I no longer have the physical energy to feel like going to a second party, perhaps that is not such a bad thing.

Above all, the longer a drinking party goes on, the higher the risk of harassment becomes.

Even asking someone at the first party, “Would you like another drink?” or “Are you a good drinker?” can be risky these days.

For an older man, simply sitting next to a woman can feel like a warning flag has already been raised.

And then there are the photos.

Some photos from last night are still on my smartphone. I look red-faced and very happy, but I will leave the rest unsaid.

That is another reason why one has to be very careful at drinking parties.

At a party, one has to stay awake and then somehow get home properly afterward. Perhaps because of that, the mind becomes strangely alert, and that is when unnecessary things may happen.

Alcohol can make us feel happy, but it is truly troublesome.

The best way is probably to drink at home with my wife, get pleasantly drunk together, and then simply fall asleep.

 

Perhaps the safest drinking companion is the person waiting at home. 

・・・ 

Vocabulary for Learners 

welcome and farewell party　歓送迎会。職場などで、新しく来た人と去る人を迎え送る会。

hangover　二日酔い。　例：I have a hangover this morning.

regret always comes too late　「後悔先に立たず」に近い表現。直訳ではなく、自然な英語表現。

the conversation starts to flow　会話が弾む、自然に進む。
この文では、酒が進むことと重ねています。

drift into karaoke　流れでカラオケに行く。　“drift into” は「なんとなく流れていく」

shabby　みすぼらしい、さもしい、少し格好悪い。

quietly disappear　いつの間にか消える。　飲み会から自然に退席する感じ。

warning flag　危険信号、警告のサイン。

red-faced　顔が赤くなった、赤ら顔の。

leave the rest unsaid　あとは言わないでおく、以下省略。

troublesome　厄介な、面倒な。

pleasantly drunk　心地よく酔った状態。　泥酔ではなく、楽しく酔っている感じ。

How Should I Live the Limited Time I Have Left?

 As retirement begins to feel less distant, the balance between saving money and truly living becomes more complicated. During Japan’s long holiday season, I spent quiet but meaningful time with my family — visiting my son, seeing my mother for Mother’s Day, traveling with my wife and daughter, and celebrating my wife’s 60th birthday. None of it was extravagant by modern standards, but all of it reminded me that good health, family gatherings, and ordinary happiness may exist only within a surprisingly limited window of life. This reflection is about aging, uncertainty, desire, and how to spend the finite time that remains.

 

This year’s long holiday season was a rather relaxing one for me.

I visited my son (who thankfully does not live very far away), went to see my mother in Tokyo for Mother’s Day, traveled to a hot spring resort with my wife and daughter who had temporarily returned from New York, and celebrated my wife’s 60th birthday.

All of these occasions involved a certain amount of expense, of course, but every one of them became a memorable experience.

As I think about life after retirement, I know I need to be more careful about spending money.

But if I focus too much on saving, eventually I may end up doing nothing at all.

At the age of 62, the fact that I can still walk comfortably, gather together with all four members of my family, and enjoy life with our two-year-old Flat-Coated Retriever, Anne, may actually place me in a rather fortunate moment of life.

Perhaps this is the last relatively carefree period I will ever have.

Eventually, my back will bend, I will need a cane, either my wife or I will become ill first, and Ann too will grow old.

The time left to me is finite, and probably much shorter than I imagine.

If I knew exactly when these things would happen, perhaps I could prepare myself accordingly. But such things are known only to God.

That does not mean I should live in fear of them.

To spend every day fearing illness, aging, earthquakes, or typhoons would also feel somehow wrong.

If the amount of time I have left were suddenly made visible, what would I actually do?

There are countless things I still want to experience before I die.

If I started listing them all, there would be no end to it. Worse still, I might spend so much time dreaming about life that life itself quietly passes by.

In the end, people live because there is always something they still want to do.

But simply following desire alone does not help us grow.

By continuing to carry the burdens that naturally come with life — studying, working, struggling, learning — perhaps I can make the limited time I have left into something truly meaningful.

 

Time may be limited, but perhaps that is precisely why it deserves to be lived carefully. 

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

• finite — 限りのある
• carefree — 気楽な、心配のない
• accordingly — それに応じて
• countless — 数え切れないほど多くの
• quietly passes by — 静かに過ぎ去る
• burden — 負荷、重荷
• meaningful — 意味のある、充実した
• in the end — 結局のところ

Rethinking Our Standard of Living in an Age of Endless Price Increases

 From pet food delivery fees to software subscriptions, price increases have become part of daily life in Japan. Even when prices stay the same, products quietly shrink in size. Behind these small frustrations may lie something larger — the limits of maintaining the high standard of living Japan built during the bubble era. Perhaps the time has come not only to complain about rising costs, but also to reconsider what kind of　life we truly need.

 

The day before yesterday, I received an email saying that the delivery fee for my dog’s food would be increased.

Yesterday, it was the price hike for my Office subscription.

None of these things come with negotiation or explanation.

If you cannot afford them, then stop using them and find something else — that is probably the logic behind it all, but there is something remarkably merciless about it.

As for dog food, perhaps I could simply go buy it myself.

But even driving costs money these days, so in the end, small price increases have to be accepted.

Office software used to be something you bought once and kept using until the next version came out.

You could protect yourself a little by skipping every other upgrade.

But once everything becomes a yearly subscription, there is almost no room left for self-defense.

And since I use it for work, stopping is not really an option.

After driving earlier word processors out of the market and achieving a near-monopoly, companies can now raise prices almost unilaterally, while users have very little means of resistance.

In any case, prices keep rising day after day.

Even products with unchanged prices often contain less than before.

“Stealth inflation” used to be subtle enough that people barely noticed it, but recently it has become rather shameless.

There is talk about lowering the consumption tax in Japan, but prices are rising faster than any possible tax reduction would help, so in the end it may amount to almost nothing.

At the same time, considering Japan’s enormous national debt, some international organizations even suggest that the consumption tax should eventually be raised instead.

During the bubble era, Japan’s standard of living reached one of the highest levels in the world.

Since then, Japan has continued trying to preserve that standard while maintaining its place among the world’s advanced societies.

But perhaps that, too, is reaching its limit.

Maybe the coming era will not be about seeking even greater convenience, but about maintaining the social infrastructure we already have — the Shinkansen, the highways, and the systems built over decades.

And honestly, perhaps that is already enough.

We ourselves may also need to stop assuming that our current standard of living is something permanent and unquestionable.

Perhaps we need to learn how to live a little more modestly.

Still, once a way of life has expanded, making it smaller again is never easy.

The difficult part is not enduring a poorer life, but accepting that “enough” may already have been reached.

 

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

• merciless — 容赦のない、無慈悲な
• subscription — 定額契約、サブスク
• monopoly / near-monopoly — 独占 / 寡占
• stealth inflation — ステルス値上げ
• consumption tax — 消費税
• national debt — 国家債務
• social infrastructure — 社会基盤
• modestly — 質素に、控えめに
• unquestionable — 疑う余地のない
• maintain its place among ~ — ～の中での地位を維持する

 

The Motivation Behind a Pathologist’s Work

 Pathologists rarely meet the patients whose lives are affected by their diagnoses. Unlike clinicians who speak directly with patients and witness pain, recovery, or gratitude firsthand, pathologists work quietly behind microscopes, often with little more than tissue samples and brief clinical data. Yet every biopsy and every diagnosis belongs to a real person waiting anxiously for answers. This essay reflects on how a pathologist maintains motivation and empathy despite that distance, and why remembering the patient behind the specimen matters so deeply.

 

Outside of pathology outpatient clinics, pathologists rarely interact directly with patients.

Even during a code blue, I have hardly ever gone to the scene, because I would probably only get in the way.
(Just to be clear, if someone collapsed in the street and an AED was needed, I would of course join the rescue effort.)

Clinicians, on the other hand, stand before patients who are suffering right in front of them.
Naturally, they want to relieve that pain and distress as quickly as possible, and they are also able to share the effects of treatment with the patient.

Pathologists do not have that experience.

When diagnosing biopsies or surgical specimens from malignant tumors, kidney or liver biopsies, or even small skin lesions and moles removed by clinicians, the information we receive about the patient is often limited to age and sex.

Of course, there are many other data points—height, weight, blood pressure, laboratory findings, and so on.

But regardless of how much information exists on paper, the patient themselves is not standing in front of us.

And because of that, there are moments when, despite working for patients, a pathologist risks losing a sense of emotional connection with them.

That is why we must constantly remain aware of it.

For the patient, a pathological diagnosis may be a once-in-a-lifetime event.
They are waiting for the result, hoping to understand what is happening inside their own body.

A pathologist must never forget that while looking through the microscope.

We pathologists, too, are working for patients.

 

Even behind a microscope, pathology is still about people.

・・・ 

Vocabulary for Learners

• Pathologist — 病理医
• Code blue — 院内緊急蘇生対応
• Biopsy — 生検
• Surgical specimen — 手術検体
• Malignant tumor — 悪性腫瘍
• Emotional connection — 感情的なつながり
• Remain aware of — 常に意識しておく
• Once-in-a-lifetime — 一生に一度の
• Look through the microscope — 顕微鏡を覗く
• Relieve pain and distress — 痛みや苦しみを和らげる

 

Why So Much Waste Exists in Modern Society

 Our daily lives are filled with things that seem unnecessary — direct mail, excessive packaging, piles of paper no one really needs. Yet many of these “wastes” continue because they serve some hidden purpose in business, psychology, or society itself. Sometimes what looks pointless from one angle may still have value from another.

 

When I return home, there is almost always a piece or two of direct mail waiting for me.

I can no longer remember where or when I became connected to the senders, but the mail keeps arriving year after year.

I will probably never buy anything from them, and sometimes I even feel the advertisements may continue arriving long after I am gone.

Of course, not all of them are completely meaningless, but still, it feels like an extraordinary amount of waste.

Years ago, when preparing materials for an academic meeting, I was surprised to learn how expensive printed booklets actually were.

Judging from those prices, these advertisements must also cost a considerable amount of money.

Naturally, some of the products being advertised are sold for dozens or hundreds of times more than the printing cost itself, so perhaps the expense is insignificant to the companies involved.

Even so, it is not free.

Ninety-nine percent of those direct mail advertisements are never used — never leading to any purchase — and are simply thrown away as waste paper.

Paper also accumulates quietly in my workplace.

We have been promoting a paperless system, and the speed of accumulation has certainly slowed, but somehow documents still pile up around me before I even notice.

At times, I feel it is not because I am untidy, but because unnecessary things keep arriving from elsewhere.

Eventually, they too become garbage.

Something may be necessary for someone, but if it has no use, it becomes waste.

Recently, a confectionery company announced that it would switch some product packaging to black-and-white printing because of concerns over shortages of printing materials.

But does colorful packaging really count as waste?

Are attractive colors designed to stimulate our desire to buy truly unnecessary?

Or do even seemingly useless things exist for some reason after all?

The line between waste and necessity may be more difficult to understand than it first appears.

Perhaps even waste exists because someone, somewhere, still believes it has value. 

・・・

 

Vocabulary for Learners

• direct mail — ダイレクトメール
• accumulate — 蓄積する
• paperless system — ペーパーレス化
• confectionery company — 菓子メーカー
• stimulate desire — 欲求を刺激する
• meaningless — 無意味な
• significant — 重要な／かなりの
• waste paper — 古紙、紙ごみ
• line between A and B — AとBの境界線
• necessary / unnecessary — 必要な／不要な

Different People, Different Ways of Thinking

We often judge society, politics, or even the people around us too quickly. But perhaps many of the things that frustrate us are not simply “right” or “wrong,” but differences in perspective shaped by different lives and responsibilities. In this reflective essay, a Japanese pathologist and blogger considers the limits of criticism, the meaning of “people are different,” and why leaving questions unanswered may sometimes be more honest than forcing conclusions.

Perhaps because I have been living a slightly more relaxed life lately, I find myself unsure about what to write.

Should I write about anxiety over world affairs, frustration with Japanese politics, hopes for Kamakura, or the decline of public manners?
Whatever the topic, it somehow risks sounding critical.

There is nothing wrong with thinking about negative things.
But such thoughts can easily turn into something that sounds like mere criticism.

A blog may be just a blog, and yet not merely a blog.
Some readers may feel uncomfortable reading harsh words, and careless remarks can hurt people more deeply than we imagine.

At the same time, if I try too hard to avoid offending anyone and write only agreeable things, the result becomes flat and uninteresting, lacking any real self-reflection.

Why are people born into this world in the first place?

As each person grows into adulthood, they gradually take on different responsibilities.

Whether those responsibilities are small and personal or large enough to influence the world, they vary endlessly from person to person, and cannot simply be denied.

If that is true, perhaps human existence itself should be viewed positively, and perhaps life cannot be divided so easily into simple categories of good and evil.

If we look at the events happening around us — in society and across the world — not as things to reject outright, but as differences in the ways people think, they may become a little easier to accept.

In this blog, I often end up using phrases like “people are different.”
The conclusion usually lands somewhere between acceptance and resignation, without becoming either completely.

Even when I feel that I should finally bring my thoughts together, I rarely arrive at anything resembling a clear conclusion.

And so, in the end, I simply leave questions behind for the people reading this blog.

Still, each person will think differently and feel differently.

If my small questions can encourage someone, somewhere, to think about something a little more positively, then that alone would make me happy enough.

 

Perhaps not every question in life needs a perfect conclusion. 

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

• world affairs — 世界情勢
• critical — 批判的な
• careless remarks — 不用意な発言
• self-reflection — 自己省察
• responsibilities — 責務、責任
• divided into categories — 分類される
• acceptance and resignation — 受容と諦め
• arrive at a conclusion — 結論に至る
• encourage someone to think — 誰かに考えるきっかけを与える
• perspective — 視点、考え方

 

The Youngest Time Is Always Now

On a beautiful spring day in Kamakura, our family gathered to celebrate my wife’s 60th birthday. The pleasant weather, the walk to the restaurant, and the breeze coming through the open windows made the day feel quietly special.

Turning sixty may sound like a major milestone, but time never really pauses. The present moment is always the newest — and also the youngest — point from which we can begin something new.

 

Today in Kamakura, the temperature and humidity were just right, and the weather could not have been better.

To celebrate my wife’s 60th birthday, our son and daughter came to join us for lunch at a nearby restaurant.

Of course, we walked there and back.
The air felt pleasant both ways, and during the meal, a comfortable breeze came through the open windows, making the food taste even better.

Sixty years sounds like a long time, yet when you look back, it passes surprisingly quickly.

Time moves continuously, without stopping.
That is why the present moment is always the newest, and also the youngest.

My wife says there are still many things she wants to do.
It is not really a matter of being “still young.” Rather, whatever we want to begin, now is the youngest moment from which to start.

As for me, I also felt that perhaps I should stop talking about being tired and try doing something new while I still can.

The youngest version of ourselves is always the person we are today. 

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

• humidity — 湿度
• breeze — そよ風、心地よい風
• milestone — 節目、重要な通過点
• look back — 振り返る
• continuously — 連続して、途切れずに
• present moment — 今この瞬間
• while I still can — まだできるうちに、元気なうちに

Clothes, Age, and the Quiet Atmosphere People Carry

Fashion trends come and go, often faster than we can understand them. One year everyone seems to wear oversized sweatpants and sneakers, and the next year an entirely different style appears out of nowhere. Looking at these changing fashions, I sometimes wonder not only how trends are created, but also why certain clothes suit certain people at certain stages of life.

Having grown up during Japan’s designer-brand boom, I remember the excitement of fashion very well. Yet as I have grown older, I have begun to feel that clothing reflects something deeper than appearance alone. What matters is not simply what we wear, but whether the clothes match the person, the occasion, and the atmosphere surrounding them.

This is not really a story about fashion itself. It is more about age, character, and the quiet connection between outward appearance and the life a person has lived.

 

Yesterday’s topic about sweatpants unexpectedly attracted a lot of attention, which suggested that many people were curious about that seemingly strange style.

Fashion trends always come and go, so I imagine that the current sweatpants look will eventually fade away as well.

And what will come next? I have absolutely no idea.

Apparently, new designs are first introduced at some sort of fashion collection and then spread into everyday society a year or two later. I sometimes wonder whether those sweatpants styles had once walked proudly down the runway at the Paris Collection or somewhere similar.

I am not especially interested in clothing myself.

That said, my youth happened to overlap perfectly with the golden age of designer brands in Japan, so I did care about fashion to some extent back then.

Comme des Garçons, Men’s Bigi, Men’s Nicole — there were probably many more, but now they remain only as pleasant memories from a distant past.

Looking back on those days, I sometimes feel that no matter how elegantly a person dresses, if there is nothing substantial inside, the result ends up looking rather shallow.

Perhaps things are a little different for women, but for men especially, I think that is often true.

A suit only begins to look natural on a man when some gray starts appearing in his hair, not when he is barely past twenty.

Of course, this may sound outdated now, since we no longer live in an age of suits. Still, I think clothing has its proper timing, and every situation calls for attire that matches its own TPO — time, place, and occasion.

People are free to wear whatever they like.

But that freedom also reveals something about the way they live and the atmosphere they carry around them.

Perhaps clothing is ultimately that kind of thing.

 

What people wear may change with fashion, but the atmosphere behind the clothes tends to reveal who they really are. 

Vocabulary for Learners

• fade away — 廃れる、消えていく
• golden age — 黄金時代
• designer brands — デザイナーズブランド
• shallow — 薄っぺらい、中身が浅い
• gray hair — 白髪
• outdated — 時代遅れの
• attire — 服装（ややフォーマルな表現）
• TPO (time, place, occasion) — 時・場所・場合に応じた振る舞い
• reveal — 明らかにする、にじみ出る
• atmosphere — 雰囲気、空気感

 

The Rise of Sweatpants and the Flattening of Social Life

Sweatpants were once considered sportswear or something to wear only at home. Yet today, they have become an everyday sight not only in neighborhoods, but also on trains, in shopping districts, and almost everywhere else.

This change may seem trivial at first glance, merely a matter of fashion or comfort. But perhaps it reflects something larger. The boundary between private and public life has gradually become blurred, especially since the pandemic normalized remote work and relaxed dress codes.

In this essay, Colo-ken reflects on the spread of “one-mile wear,” the fading distinction between on and off, and the possibility that modern society itself is becoming increasingly flat, comfortable, and lacking in contrast.

Recently, I often see women wearing gray sweatpants on trains and around town.

Sweatpants were originally sportswear. Back when I played basketball, we wore them over our shorts during the winter.

For that reason, I initially felt uncomfortable even wearing sweatpants indoors as loungewear. But once I tried them, I had to admit they were comfortable.

Over time, sweatpants gained social acceptance, and more people began wearing them casually around the neighborhood.

For many years now, I have seen people stepping out of cars at highway service areas dressed entirely in sweatpants. But lately, it has become completely normal to see people dressed that way almost anywhere.

Apparently, this style is called “one-mile wear.”
But it no longer stops at one mile.

For walking the dog or going to a nearby convenience store, perhaps it is acceptable. But wearing sweatpants to ride the train somewhere still feels strange to me.

To me, sweatpants are basically an extension of indoor clothing — something closer to underwear than proper public attire. Yet there is probably no stopping this trend anymore.

Even doctors now spend entire days wearing scrubs.

When even hospital directors dress that way, perhaps dress codes and the sense of discipline they once represented have largely disappeared.

The turning point was probably the COVID pandemic.

Back then, there were endless stories — half joke, half truth — about people attending online meetings wearing a suit jacket on top and shorts underneath.

I still spend most days without a necktie, but I have never worn scrubs regularly.

Perhaps pathologists simply do not need them because our clothes rarely get dirty. Or perhaps it is just my age. Either way, I have never felt comfortable wearing them.

As clothing that resembles indoor wear becomes more common, the boundary between “on” and “off” also becomes blurred.

People walking confidently around in sweatpants certainly look relaxed, but a life without clear distinctions between work and rest is also a life without much contrast.

Perhaps society itself is moving toward something flatter and more uniform, with fewer ups and downs than before.

That said, many people still wear proper business suits, and as someone who has long abandoned neckties myself, perhaps I am not really in a position to criticize people in sweatpants.

Comfort makes life easier, but too much comfort may quietly erase the boundaries that once gave daily life its rhythm. 

・・・・・

sweatpants — スウェットパンツ

loungewear — 部屋着

social acceptance — 社会的受容

one-mile wear — 近所用の気軽な服装

dress code — 服装規定

discipline — 規律、節度

blurred boundary — 曖昧になった境界

contrast — メリハリ、対比

uniform — 均一な、画一的な

abandoned neckties — ネクタイをやめた