‘1 Tablet 3 Times a Day Until Passing Away’ : Oh My Confusion: It’s Japanese English

A young Japanese couple stroll down chic Omote Sando Boulevard, their matching jackets bearing the words “Fancy Pimple.” On the platform at Shinjuku station, a young man in a punk hairdo sports a coat with bold, stylized lettering: “ANTHRAX.”

Like most other Japanese who wear English slogans on shirts, jackets, hats, even underwear, they said they didn’t know what the words mean.

“Japanese Ingurisshu” (English), as the form is widely called, adorns not just clothing but pencil cases, shopping bags, stationery and many other items--and much of it is incorrect, absurd or unintentionally obscene.

Advertising, Fashion

“Absolutely weird,” is how Kim Schuefftan, an editor with Kodansha International, a publisher of English-language books on Japan, describes it. Schuefftan is compiling examples of “Japanese Ingurisshu” in advertising and fashion.

“Japanese copywriters very conscientiously and adroitly use English as Japanese,” he said in an interview. “The words have no meaning, but connote something, like, ‘Oh My Dining.’ ” That, he said, was a slogan used by Seibu department stores to promote personalized tableware.

The English word my, in fact, is widely used to convey a sense of intimacy between owner and object, such as “my home” and “my car.” Tokyo Gas Co. went a step further with the slogan “My life, my gas.”

An Enigmatic Slogan

“Let’s” and “Do” are also favorites, especially in connection with action. “Do Sports” is a popular athletic club, and many foreigners recall the enigmatic T-shirt slogan, “Let’s Sports Violent All Day Long.” Instructions for Mercotin tablets once read: “Adults: 1 tablet 3 times a day until passing away.”

Among the scores of tiny clothing shops in Tokyo’s trendy Harajuku area is Zen Mall, where customers can choose imprinted slogans such as, “Just Fit to You. King Kong,” or, “Do Not Disturb Please. SCRAP!”

“It doesn’t matter what’s written on them. It’s not English; it’s art, and if the colors and shapes are nice, it will sell,” said Takashi Murakami, Zen Mall’s manager. “Nobody ever asks us what they mean. We don’t even know ourselves.”

Not Very Appetizing

Some food names may sound attractive to Japanese but unappetizing to a native speaker of English, such as “Creap” coffee creamer and “Calpis” fermented milk drink. Supermarkets sell candy named “Bourbon Pickle,” “Chocolate Sand Cookies,” “Glico Pocky” and “Choco Pretch.”

Resident foreigners regularly note the more bizarre slogans and swap them with each other. Obscenities may turn up on T-shirts and shopping bags, and embarrassing double-entendres sometimes go undetected, said Schuefftan, who has lived here for 22 years.

Visitors encounter the odd English from the moment they arrive in Japan. A sign at the Skyliner express train station at Tokyo’s international airport advises: “If you want to take non-smoking car, please offer to sell ticketer.”

A Puzzling Prohibition

In Kyoto, a hotel warns non-Japanese guests that “Depositing the room key into other person is prohibited.” Another, in Kobe, says: “Guests are requested to hand over their car-key to cartaker.”

The absence in the Japanese language of “L” and “V” sounds adds to confusion. Tourists can visit what one map calls the “Nara Prefectural Fork (folk) Museum.” Restaurants hand out “runch” or “ranch” (lunch) menus, and one translated “Chivas Regal” as “Sea Birth Regal.”

“How To Cooking Expert. A Sunny Side Up!” says a commercially sold stationery letterhead. A greeting card shows a pig riding a motor scooter and the words: “WINKEN’S TIDBITS. Brave Acts Can Be Ruined by Accidents.” A notebook is titled, “The Shortened History of Mankind.”

Message Is Secondary

“The visual layout is important, not the message,” said Yoji Izawa, chief designer of GC. Inc., a paper products maker. One of his creations shows a female pig bathing, with the caption: “Heathery and precious. Scent of a monologue. A formal imitation. Slightly mellowing tonite. A ball.”

Izawa also was responsible for a letterhead design of a policeman arresting a masked hippopotamus, with a single, four-letter word in quotes. When one retailer returned a shipment because an American customer complained that it was obscene, the word was altered to read: “Shoot!”

“You can interpret it two ways: in fun or by being insulted,” Izawa said. “Unfortunately, I didn’t realize it then.”