ANNE

5 things about Anne Ishii:

1. Is a bicoastal writer and consultant.
2. English is her second language. Synchronized back up hip hop dancing is her first.
3. Hates the way we idolize celebrities but would sleep with a handful of them… if they filled her hand.
4. She can make you lots of money but she won’t like it.
5. Would always rather be somewhere else.

I’m always a little disappointed when I see signs for Ladies Only train cars in Japanese subway systems, because they were created as a stop-measure against (presumably only male) gropers and molesters. Chikan is a real problem in Japan, mind you, but in NY you’d beat the shit out of the fool who went uptown on the finger train. In fact, I willfully ride the co-ed train cars in Tokyo, hoping some asshole will grope me, specifically so I can break his fingers and chant “U.S.A! U.S.A!” I’m kidding, of course. Gropers would never finger an American.

Anyway, it came as something of a surprise when I did a little research (cough… ten minutes on Wikipedia) and learned that gendered train cars aren’t anything new in Japan. Train cars have been segregated on-and-off for years at a time since, well, the dawn of trains. There have been a variety of reasons over the ages, but I guess it just is what it is. I feel less disappointed about gender segregated train cars now, even if in the 21st century train cars are segregated because of people whose fingers ought to be crushed by self-righteous Americans like me.

I’d surmise that because so much of the 1980s Bubble Economy infrastructure in Tokyo was built oriented toward salary-men, women could potentially feel out of place in corporate environments. Hence, now you see such urban and urbane services as internet cafes or coffee shops advertising rooms reserved for women only.

Of course times change. Women run plenty of shit now, and I’d argue the genders comingle much more easily than a lot of Americans, actually. Still, segregated spaces will probably persist. And maybe just because of this century-old tradition of segregated spaces, one new phenomenon has surfaced: Ladies Only Rooms in Business Hotels.

I was first offered the option of a Ladies Room at Pearl Hotel Yaesu in Tokyo, and envisioned a pepto-pink Hello Kitty wonderland with fuzzy slippers and a waterproof picture of Takeshi Kaneshiro by the bathtub. I graciously opted for the non-gender-denominational “regular” room. Turns out the only difference was that the Ladies Room comes with an iron and a scale… (sigh) So I go into my gender neutral room. Nothing about it struck me as particularly anti-feminine. Bed, bath, tv, internet, slippers, porn menu… There’s always a porn menu in these things. But still, I’m not phased. Until…

Not meaning to actually read the menu, I simply picked it up for perusal and it. was. sticky. That’s when it hit me. The Ladies Rooms aren’t for the pathologically feminine. It’s for women who would rather not sleep in places where the porn menus are sticky. I didn’t bother asking for a different room. I guess I’m still baiting the perverts.