Thereâs hardly a trace of it now, but about 20 years agoâat age 15, influenced by someone I admiredâI was an 80-90âs American toy collector. For me, collecting American toys wasnât just about accumulation; cutely displaying them was part of the aesthetic. Before it became a trend, I would post photos of my collection and room on Instagram. I never showed my face and operated the account under a handle, which, despite following only 200 people, boasted thousands of followers. This was in 2015, a time when the word âinfluencerâ wasnât as common as it is now.
At that time, I also couldnât be satisfied unless everything I touched was in cotton-candy colors, and my wardrobe was completely that of a Harajuku girl.
â My room during my first time in Tokyo. A dazzling space that sometimes appeared in magazine featuresâĄ
â Wearing an ice cream-patterned dress while going to Harajuku.
Time passed, and at 25, I decided to study abroad in the Czech Republic. My beloved collection, however, couldnât come across the sea with me. Reluctantly, I boxed them up and left them at my parentsâ house, but the dead-stock toys were always at risk of mold or deformation. Even while abroad, I constantly worried about them.
Meanwhile, I became obsessed with thrift shops locally and found myself buying vintage stuffed animals on a whim. I also experienced the Czech spirit of valuing possessions and came to understand the emptiness of merely accumulating things. My love for vintage clothing remained unchanged, and I still treasure the vintage dresses I wear on special occasions.
â In the room I lived in at the time, I was happily surrounded by stuffed animals.
â A polka-dot dress I got for about 500 yen at a Czech thrift store. A treasure Iâve kept ever since.
And then, in the blink of an eye, it was time to return home. I consumed food in a planned manner and passed on items I could still use. At the end of my study-abroad life, I headed to the airport with just one suitcase and one backpack, the same as when I arrived. Only the stuffed animals I had collected were sent separately to my parentsâ house.
Looking back on my time abroad, I lived comfortably with the minimum amount of luggage, plus a box for seasonings and cooking utensils. When I moved from the student dorm to a rented house, one Uber ride was all it took to relocate. I had become so light, and once I experienced that ease, I couldnât unlearn it. Even so, my love for toys remainedâand after returning home, I faced days of inner conflict.
Still swaying between these two opposing feelings, I gradually took steps toward becoming a minimalist.