A tale of two shops

I recently came back from a trip to Japan, during which I intended to report on the Tokyo fashion scene. Unfortunately, the day I had scheduled to do the shops coincided with an unexpected typhoon, so instead of shopping I was sopping.

I took shelter from the bead-curtain rain in a very upswept shopping centre called Tokyo Midtown. I could have been anywhere in Europe, because all the designer shops were there, complete with ferocious prices. While they revealed nothing about Japanese fashion, the Chloe store captured my interest, not for the garments, but the shop window presentation.

The glass had been semi-opaqued, so that the brightly lit Chloe sign, along with the gear, appeared through a mysterious fog. It was a clever ruse, because it created the natural desire see more clearly what was inside. Just to make sure you knew it was a Chloe clothing store the wall at right angles to the windows was a collage of garments.

Now for a contrast. Location: Ferry Road, Southport in Queensland. The store is called Trudie Fischer. It is painted bright pink and has a statue of Marilyn Munroe sitting on the roof. Inside there are chandeliers and a well stocked bar, the purpose of which is to waylay and calm impatient husbands while their wives go rack-mining.

The shop is, indeed, owned by Trudie Fischer and has been for 33 years. Her husband, Reg, pays overwhelming tribute to Trudie's skill in outfitting ladies of unspecified age and size with everything from casual to eveningwear to mother of the bride. If there is nothing girthworthy in stock, Trudie will whip out the tape and make to measure. She is not fazed by size 30.

By the sound of Reg's accent, there is a bit of American show biz in there somewhere. While Trudie was away recently, Reg bought her a Rolls-Royce Corniche Coupe and had it painted pink to match the shop. His eye for detail went right down to the sheepskin seat covers which he had specially dyed - also in pink. A new sound system and alarm were fitted so that if anybody touches the flying lady atop the grille, the car howls in protest.

Trudie and Reg have a second shop in Nerang Street. It's painted in yellow, blue and pink and is called "The Budget Department". It carries lower priced clothes, plus homewares, plus anything that Reg and Trudie pick up on their overseas trips - apart from the flu. Prices start at 20 cents for a hat.

In-flight bargains
I'm quite a fan of Japan Airlines - although economy class is more suited to the Japanese body than to mine. Like most airlines, JAL has a thick catalogue for duty free, on-board purchases. It makes for interesting reading. For instance, it is now easy to add five centimetres to a man's height. He simply buys the shoes shown in the catalogue. Casual and slip-on, they look ordinary enough until you see the before and after pictures.

There is Mr Sukimoto, a short chap by western standards, cranking himself up to be able to see over the fence. The secret is thick soles, very thick heels and, inside the shoe, another chunk of uplift. The price of $120 seemed cheap to achieve, according to the bible, the impossible.

There's more. In addition to the small, precious items like watches and jewellery, the catalogue goes headlong into bigger stuff, culminating in Japanese made double beds. Does the airline stock them in the hold of the aeroplane? I tried to ask, but the flight attendant thought I was crazy and I had to abandon the enquiry. I imagined disembarking in Sydney with a double bed tucked under my arm and trying to convince customs not to cut open the mattress.

China oracle
According to unreliable rumour, the Myer group is swinging its China sourcing behind a buying service called Li & Fung. If you want to look silly at a business lunch admit you've never heard of Li & Fung because somebody will tell you it has been around since 1906, has a staff of 25,000 across 40 countries and turns over about $14 billion a year. In addition to sourcing, it has retail and distribution services divisions.

The story goes that Myer now measures all offers made to it by suppliers against Li & Fung's price. Furthermore, Myer happily pays a 15 per cent buying fee - which seems high, but maybe Li & Fung scours China for prices not available to Australian mere mortals.

Pacific Brands is said to be another customer of Li & Fung which becomes somewhat hilarious
when PB shows garments to Myer which then checks the price from Li & Fung against the PB price from Li & Fung.

By Fraser mcEwing