The FRUiTS Effect
“Bold prints, layered silhouettes, and fearless experimentation transformed everyday sidewalks into runways.”
That’s how I like to explain it whenever someone asks what FRUiTS was. But truthfully? That description doesn’t even scratch the surface.
A Scene I Wish I’d Walked Into
Let’s set the scene. It’s Tokyo, late 1990s. The economy has dipped, but creativity? It’s exploding. On Sundays, Harajuku becomes a stage where teenagers turn Jingu Bridge into a runway that no brand could recreate. The crowd is a patchwork of lace parasols, neon goggles, fake tans, voluminous hair, Victorian petticoats, and DIY accessories piled high.
And there, right in the middle of it all, is Shoichi Aoki with his camera. He isn’t just snapping outfits, he’s documenting a revolution. Every month his magazine FRUiTS hits the shelves, and with it, the world gets a window into Japan’s most fearless youth subcultures.
Discovering FRUiTS
When I first stumbled across scans of FRUiTS online, I felt like I’d found a secret diary. Not glossy fashion shoots, not luxury campaigns—just kids on the street, dressed like the rules didn’t exist. And that was the point.
Dressing up wasn’t about trends or looking “put together.” It was about crafting alternate selves, building communities, and resisting conformity. It was about being loud when the world asked you to be quiet.
I know I’m not alone in saying FRUiTS changed how I think about clothes. It made me bolder. It whispered:
“You can wear anything you want — because you’re the one who decides.”
The Style Tribes
What FRUiTS captured was a whole ecosystem of style tribes, each rewriting the fashion rulebook in real time:
Lolita: A fairytale rebellion, with Rococo lace, bows, and doll-like silhouettes. Gothic Lolitas went dark and brooding; Sweet Lolitas lived in pastel frills.
Decora: A maximalist explosion. Accessories piled until the body became a living toybox. Childhood reimagined as armour.
Visual Kei: Rock theatre in fashion form—gender-bending makeup, elaborate costumes, pure performance.
Gyaru/Kogyaru: Tanned skin, bleached hair, micro skirts. A middle finger to traditional femininity and schoolgirl conformity.
Mori Kei: Soft and earthy, as if forest spirits had wandered into the city. Linen, lace, layers.
Cyber/Techno Kids: Metallic PVC, neon highlights, and sci-fi goggles—dressing like tomorrow was already here.
Each tribe wasn’t just a look, it was a way of life There were many of these subcultures, shedding light on cultural freedom and breaking the barrier of day to day outfits. Aoki gave them visibility at a time when mainstream media dismissed them as eccentric, even shameful.
Of course, the rest of the world was watching. Designers from John Galliano to Vivienne Westwood mined Harajuku’s chaos for inspiration. Marc Jacobs reinterpreted its layering; Gwen Stefani built a whole pop persona around her “Harajuku Girls.”
But here’s the thing: Harajuku wasn’t created to inspire the West. It was created by kids who wanted to belong, to rebel, to be seen. That’s what made FRUiTS special—it gave the spotlight to the people who weren’t supposed to have one.
And even now, you can feel its fingerprints everywhere. Scroll TikTok and you’ll see echoes in kidcore, fairy-kei, coquette, maximalist layering. The grandkids of FRUiTS are alive and well.
But why does it still matter ?
FRUiTS shut down in 2017, but its impact didn’t diminish. If anything, it feels more urgent now. In an era of fast fashion cycles and copycat trends, FRUiTS reminds us that true style isn’t about money or mainstream validation—it’s about freedom.
It’s about the sidewalk as your runway, your wardrobe as your manifesto.
So, who’s picking up the baton of Harajuku’s fearless spirit today? I’ve pulled together five indie brands channeling FRUiTS’ raw energy, alongside a new wave of influencers redefining street style in the modern era.
Brands Carrying the Torch
Heaven Sent (US, est. 2022) – Unisex streetwear rooted in outsider identity. Known for community-driven drops and bold contrasts, it channels Harajuku’s DIY spirit.
Cfierce (Global) – Streetwear meets cartoon chaos. Bright colours and playful motifs that scream Decora.
WC by Wakatsuki Chinatsu (Japan) – A Harajuku native, still thriving with quirky oversized fits and irreverent styling.
Eyeye (South Korea) – Dreamy, girlish, and soft, with nods to Lolita and fairy-kei but updated for K-fashion.
Ashley Williams (UK) – Kitsch queen of clashing prints and ironic retro references. Subculture chaos turned chic.
Influencers Reviving the Energy
@Kailahasimoto
@Cannelle
@Lejinfan
@Tungyan.choy
@Dicxm_phisunee2
What I love most about FRUiTS and the overall depiction of the fashion culture in Japan is that it wasn’t about being perfect. The fits were messy, chaotic, sometimes mismatched, but that was the beauty. They were alive. They were free.
And maybe that’s the reminder we all need. Style doesn’t have to be polished to be powerful. Sometimes the most radical thing you can do is wear your personality on your sleeve — literally.
So pile it on, clash it up, and remember:
Fashion isn’t about fitting in—it’s about standing out.
XOXO, The Fashion Stock Market
Editor: Felicity Field
