デパートは、街の顔だった。

Column|2026.7.27

Text_Toshinori Okada
Photo_Toshinori Okada


The department store was the face of the city.

Hearing about Seibu Shibuya’s closure made me feel as if the city’s corner were growing darker. To me, Seibu wasn’t just a place to shop; it was where I absorbed Tokyo’s creative culture.
In the ’80s, Seibu drove Tokyo’s charm with cutting-edge ads. We eagerly chased after them through Parco and Loft, browsing fashion, watching obscure exhibitions, and sipping overpriced coffee while talking big. Now, with Tokyu Hands also closing, those days feel further away. Hands was a treasure trove that made ordinary tools—screws, paper, and odd hooks—look incredibly special.
Shibuya used to be a place to discover the useless yet fascinating. Today, amidst ongoing redevelopment, that playful spirit feels lost. The spots that make you want to wander and linger are fading away.
Meanwhile, Paris, the birthplace of department stores, remains vibrant. Legendary shops like Le Bon Marche and Samaritaine refuse to rely on heritage, captivating visitors with modern Art Nouveau decor and light. How a city uses its wealth on these spaces changes everything.
Tokyo was never lagging behind. Shibuya, at least, was a place where people bought a mood rather than just items. We stretched our budgets, bought brand products, and saved the paper bags even after returning home because they held our dreams.
A department store is not just a big shop; it shows how a city wishes to project itself. I wonder what face Shibuya will show next. I hope it becomes a place where people want to wander, even without a purpose.

サマリテールのファサード。美しく、威厳がある。


中に入ったら、まず見上げて、うっとり。

日本の建築家ユニット、
SANAAが手がけたリヴォリ通り側のファサード。