PERSONAL SHOPPER (Part One)……THE PERFUMES OF SATORI, TOKYO

Anyone who knows me knows that the idea of Neil Chapman being anyone’s personal shopper is entirely ludicrous. This is principally because I hate shopping. I sometimes ask myself why this is. Why I feel so asphyxiated and stressed out in any department store; so irritated. So overwhelmed by the plenitude (the greed, the waste?); the artificial lighting; the plastic air; the conspicious snobbism……the vaunting. The stench of the perfume and makeup counters. The ludicrosity of the fashions on display; the sheer amount of pancake foundation and more spidery mascara’d false eyelashes than there are tarantulas in Amazonia. Basically, I cannot breathe from all the capitalistic suffocation and have to quickly make my way to the nearest exits before my serotonin completely runs out. Funnily enough, d is the same. He will occasionally have a quick up and down the escalators of Shinjuku Isetan’s Men – the most pretentious fashion mecca I have ever encountered, but then I have never been to…