Japanese Hoochie-Mama talk

Years ago, my Japanese cousin Aimee sent JLITH videos of the first season of Eiko and Reiko*, a Japanese night-soap. We watched it feverishly, as if Beverly Hills 90210 wasn't histrionic enough. The story centered around two sisters, the elder mature, earnest and plain (Reiko), and the younger irritating, selfish and stylish (Eiko). As I remember it, Reiko slept with Eiko's boyfriend, who was rather a punk boxer, while Eiko was being courted by a handsome and wonderful co-worker who deserved far better. In the end, it was all moot, as the punk boyfriend was stabbed to death in a Harding/Kerrigan-type scenario, and died pathetically in Reiko's arms, declaring his love for her. It was pretty awful programming, but as we didn't have any Kage-no Gundan, Oshin or Miyamoto Musashi episodes then airing, we sucked it up in the name of cultural exploration. It didn't take more than one episode to label Eiko as a hoochie-mama ... not only for her peroxided hair, short skirts and general malcontentedness, but also for her exasperating voice, which made her sound like a trucculent three year old instead of the mid-twenties career girl that she was.

In Japan, the concept of sexy is far removed from Western influence. In the States, if I asked a guy to picture a sexy woman, images that might come to mind are voluptuous, mature, seductive, dressed in lingerie ... in short, a Victoria Secret model. However, travel across the Pacific Ocean, and the picture is dramatically different. Sexiness in Japan comes in the form of thin, girlish and innocent waifs ... kind of like the actresses that guest-appear on The Iron Chef. (The phenomenon has become rather problematic lately, as anoriexia among teenage Japanese girls has spiked to an alarming degree.) And when it comes to vocal sexiness, Japan is as much about breathy, girly voices as the States are about husky and low-pitched ones.

Anyway, last night at Safehouse dinner, much to my surprise, I exhibited my own hoochie-mama-ness. I was ensconced in talk about Japan with Lord Byron, JKBro and Shimai, who all served their missions there. Like most gaijin, they were all surprised at my accent, which I've been told is rather good, and the colloquiality of my speech. Of course the size of my vocabulary is rather pitiful, but size doesn't matter, does it? Shimai seemed especially atuned to my voice, because she noted that when I speak Japanese, I modulate my voice to a higher pitch and fall into the singsong flow that I'm accustomed to hearing from Japanese nubile women. In short ... hoochie-mama talk.

I was rather taken aback. On principle, I try to avoid HM characteristics, but I try to be especially careful about how I present myself vocally. It hearkens back to the unpleasant discovery that the Valley Girl slang I appropriated during my early-teen years was unintelligible, unintelligent, and just plain grating on the auditory system. It took months of dilligent application, but I did eventually break myself of the habit, and recommenced speaking like a normal person. I've also been annoyed beyond belief at people who end their sentences on an up-note, which makes them sound insecure and unknowledgeable. I've encountered this mainly with sister missionaries;I can understand how this might be due to nervousness, but it decreases the effectiveness of the message.

On a larger scale, the desire to conform to societal ideals of beauty affects women on both sides of the Pacific (and elsewhere, but I'm trying to stay focused here). In the States, we moved past the waif/anorexic phase that afflicted us during the 90's. With the advent and refinement of cosmetic surgery, we are now ensconced in what I call Perpetual Youth Culture. Everyone wants to be and look young ... tight and firm bodies, unwrinkled faces, older and younger women inappropriately trying to dress like 18 year olds. I don't claim immunity, but I try to tamp it down and use a moderate approach. And I wonder if Japan might soon follow suit, although their beauty culture seems more firmly ingrained to repel faddish movements.

*I'm not sure this is the real name of the show, but I'm waiting to hear back from JLITH.