The Prada flagship store in Tokyo was designed by Herzog & de Meuron, a swiss architecture practice. You might know them from the Tate Modern art museum in London, the sports stadiums in Basel, Munich and Beijing, the Elbphilharmonie in Hamburg, and god knows what other projects. I had wanted to see this building for years.
The store lies along the prestigious Omotesando, a street where all the famous fashion houses are represented. In the afternoon of Sunday, David and I had a long walk along and around Omotesando before visiting the store. As soon as you step off the main street, you find yourself in often tiny alleys, where the stores are smaller, less famous but more charming. In a bend of a street, we found a hip cafe to replenish our caffeine levels. When we got our strength back, we finally headed to Prada and took a long at it. I was a fan. David shot a selfie of us and I took a few shots of the object of my admiration. Then it was time for David to go home and lie down.
After I had brought David to the train station, I returned to the Prada store and went in. Unfortunately, they made it very clear that I was not to take any photos in the store which I had to sadly obey. This did not ruin my mood in the slightest. It was dreamy inside. My feet felt the thick, soft, cream-colored carpets and it was difficult for me to not stroke the clean, white surfaces. Slowly I made my way up through the store, exploring every level, admiring the organization and level of detail of the building, peeking into the staff-only areas. I sneakily tried to take a photo but always there was a store clerk somewhere in the distance, making sure I did not misbehave.
When I reached the uppermost level, the sun was setting over Tokyo and the store was flooded with golden light. I had a glorious view over nearby rooftops and felt like I was sitting in a futuristic cloud, floating, warm and safe.