I was innocently walking through Shibuya this afternoon when a man who wanted to know if I was a model approached me. Obviously this had everything to do with my Slavic cheekbones and porcelain skin, as opposed to the fact that I was wearing a purple bow tie, skin-tight sheepskin jacket, and hipster shades. The gentleman in question wanted to know if I was free for two days modelling work next week, and so I gave him my contact details and let him take a couple of photos. In hindsight the only place those body shots are going to end up is on the photographer’s bedroom wall, but I’m still keeping my fingers crossed for a phone call from D&G.
This evening I attended a belated New Years eve soiree with my fellow scholars, where the dangers of a buffet once again presented themselves to me; could there be any worse combination than a table full of free food and a man with no restraint? Towards the end of the evening I made my excuses and asked if the party would be coming to an end soon, whereupon I was asked to give a speech to bring things to a close, in Japanese! My car crash of a discourse went something along the lines of ‘It’s been a difficult year, thanks for coming, and… my inner feelings are good for the year ahead!’, hardly Chuchwellian, but at least it had the desired effect of clearing the room!