This Japanese House: The Kitchen

It's about damn time, yo. I'm closing in on two years here and I finally, FINALLY have the kitchen to a point that it doesn't make me break down into a sobbing wreck.

Okay, I'm exaggerating slightly. But it did give me all the sads for a long time. Then I thought get over your badself because fuck it, this is Japan. This is a rental house in Japan. This is a far cry from my white marble dream kitchen that, let's face it, isn't ever going to happen for most of us way down here in the 99%.

Time to give THIS kitchen some love! With all its imperfections. No more drippy in-depth complaining about how I don't have an oven, garbage disposal, or dishwasher, or about the ugly faucet, or the harsh overhead fluorescent light I never ever turn on, or about the redundant, awkward sliding door to the bathroom right next to the refrigerator, or that the 5'10" back door is sized for midgets Japanese people and we couldn't figure out how to open it for three months, or the confusing little fish broiler drawer beneath the stovetop in which I always burn toast, or the beige fake marble plastic wall panels, or the counters that are almost 4" shorter than standard western counter height, or the totally wack storage space ... in the floor.

Nope. Not talking about those things beyond listing them just now. Check. I also won't start in on the pathetic longing for my other kitchens, 1 & 2.

Instead I'll point out the very affordable cute little white perfectly-sized fridge from Muji.

And the über cool black hood ...

... over the adorable yet hardworking 3-burner gas stovetop.

And the amazingly low-maintenance stainless steel countertop that I LOVE.

Hey-o, check out my fancy Sori Yanagi kettle I picked up for half the price I'd pay outside of Japan.

Oh how I prefer kitchen drawers over cabinets. See how I covered those drawers with removable chalkboard wallpaper because they're pink.

Here are the shelves I built for about $40 and mounted on the sliding doorframe to the bathroom. (there's a normal door to the bathroom from the hallway, too)

Oh yeah, and not to mention just the whole charming wabi-sabi Japanness of it all. Gotta say I'm pret-ty stoked I'm not too mortified to post photos of this kitchen out on the scary Internets. Trying to keep it real by focusing on and appreciating what's good and accepting what I cannot change. Just like that dumb quote tells us – you know, the one hipsters tattoo on their midriffs.

So what do you think? Does my bizarro kitchen or house change any perceptions you may have had about living in Japan? (see more house here, here & here)

★

Not My Japanese House: Part 2

It's taken some time but I'm beginning to understand and respect the Japanese design aesthetic. What's surprised me most is how elusive modern design is where I live. So, as with most things, I resort to the online search.

I'll refrain from snark about odd Japanese architectural details, props, and styling. This time.

Let me just say this residence too has almost nothing in common with my Japanese house. Residential neighborhoods in Japan tend to have blocky, suburban houses with run-down garden sheds, no lawns, garages or fences, and little or no outdoor space between buildings. Not host country bashing here, just telling it like it is.

Yes I realize I'm one lucky bitch to get to live over here but most Japanese architecture and interiors are straight up uninspired, borderline trashy, and they usually depress me. Which is why I'm determined to find the goods.

Speaking of goods, no Japanese home is complete without tatami. It's used in guest and living spaces, sometimes with nothing but a low dining table and seat cushions. Or it's found in bedrooms where you're expected to roll out a thin futon every night and put it away in the morning. (Fuck that, I bought a bed.)

Architectural magazines and blogs spotlighting Japanese design often feature homes with ample plywood ...

But I have yet to see anything like this.

Stairs in Japanese homes are frighteningly steep with tread depth meant for people with very small feet. In other words, they're a trip hazard for clumsy westerners. Particularly Americans.

 
Don't get me started on overhead fluorescent lighting – in Japan they fucking love it. (Same goes for China come to think of it.) But they have lovely skin tones, unlike me. Oh no, I look all pasty and sick if I get anywhere near a fluorescent bulb.

Homes in Japan will almost always have doors of varying heights. I haven't figured out the logic behind this yet. My 6-foot husband has to duck through 7 of 12 doors in our house. Our house was built in the 1980s or 90s, and Japanese people aren't necessarily as short as they may have once been. I don't get why they haven't increased the standard door size yet. I'm guessing there must be a reason.

Here's a great example of the typical Japanese building envelope – almost completely maxed. And believe it or not I guarantee the residents will not be adding nice patio furniture here. Though Japanese gardens are often small works of perfection, I was surprised homes almost never have outdoor seating areas of any kind. No fences means no privacy. The times we sit outside people walking by look at us quizzically, as if we're locked out of our house. Needless to say, we don't sit out much.

Overall a nice, bright design that maximizes its urban space in creative ways. To me the floor plan is interesting but not ideal. This is not my country, so there is no reason I should expect it to.

Architecture and design by Rythmdesign | Found via Ignant

★

Japanese coffee culture

I'm a coffee addict, I admit it. And fortunately for me, baristas in Japan do magic with coffee. In fact they obsess over it in ways we westerners didn't think possible, specifically the hand pour. I recently found 08COFFEE, a sweet little coffee spot that reminds me there's a lot to love about Japan. (Sometimes I forget.)

Not only is their art-filled space well designed, bright, and relaxing, but 08COFFEE also does artisan small batch roasting on-site. The young, gracious owners offer select high quality beans as well as top-notch espresso drinks (somehow served at precise drinking temperature) as well as delicate, not-too-sugary cakes. Good stuff.

I love the unpretentious attention to detail and how they used flat white paint, raw wood, and other natural materials like linen sheets with grommets as curtains to bring their funky little space together. This kind of effortless, tasteful design in Japan has proven less common than I'd hoped. But I'm gonna find it if it kills me.

Photos by me | iPhone + VSCO

★