From around 1990, burusera shops around Tokyo were selling panties formerly worn by high school girls for as high as 5,000 yen each, and the idiom “hand over fist” could be applied to both the revenues of the merchants and the behavior of the customers — albeit with slightly different meanings.
Then in 1993, relates Nikkan Gendai (Nov. 14), one such entrepreneur in Takadanoba decided that the dyed-in-the-fur aficionados were tiring of that breezy kid stuff, and began recruiting co-eds from the “big six” universities and other colleges to supply him with grown-up merchandise.
The shop’s appeal was accentuated by the panties’ owners actually being present on the premises, where, blushing hotly, they would step out of their dainty underthings in the presence of the purchaser and present them in person, for a gratuity of 10,000 yen.
Customers also had the option of pre-ordering so-called “premium goods,” which entailed wearing the items for three consecutive days in order to acquire a more aromatic bouquet.
However, just three months after its opening — and despite plentiful coverage for the shop in the tabloid media — customers began deserting it in droves, forsaking the collegians for their former favorites, the high school girls.
To evade this erotic exodus, the owner fought back with a “strip to the buff course,” in which the female employee successively shed and submitted her skirt, bra, blouse, panties and stockings — all for a package deal of 30,000 yen.
But then customer dissatisfaction arose over insufficient pheromones, with growing numbers of customers complaining that, “Compared with high school girls, the panties worn by college coeds don’t smell strong enough to give me a woody.”
The theory offered here is that the powerfully potent pong secreted in early puberty begins to fade by the time girls reach college age. So one might even say their garments were barely worth a scent. And the “Joshi Daisei Panty Shoppu” went floppu a mere six months after its opening. (K.S.)
Source: “Joshikosei no asoko no nioi ni maketa ‘joshidaisei panti shoppu,'” Nikkan Gendai (Nov. 14, page 28)