A new chapter for the bookstore

Imagine you woke up one morning to find a magical little village had sprung up in your neighbourhood overnight – and, don’t worry, no one got evicted and there was no environmental damage. On a plot of derelict land in Tokyo, a new little community was hustling and bustling in sync with the rising sun. Visitors to the neighbourhood, low-rise and perfectly landscaped, might be forgiven for thinking that this new collection of buildings and trees had been part of the urban fabric for years but closer inspection reveals workmen polishing banisters, tying back bushes and unpacking boxes.

As the workmen go about their business, curious neighbours peer into windows, stop to chat, clean up after their dogs (some are in prams and college sweatshirts) and snap photos on their phones. At one corner a concept convenience store is doing a roaring trade with its upmarket takeaway food and special selection of Muji products. There’s an electric bike dealer and next door there’s a shop with a window display of restored Polaroid cameras from the Impossible Project. Nearby a building with lodge-like details is doing a roaring trade in pancakes and cappuccinos and just behind it the doors are open to a deluxe-looking dog supermarket and daycare centre.

While there’s much that’s fascinating about this scene at 6.55am on Monday (this week), the most curious feature is the well-turned-out locals in sharp tailoring and woolly smocks. Men are in smart navy and cognac cord blazers, triple-wrapped cashmere scarves, neat denim and either Alden ankle boots or New Balance sneakers. Women are in wool tunics, Loro Piana wraps, Trippen clogs and mink mufflers.

Oddly, there’s not a toddler, teenager or anyone under 35 in sight. While the early hours might have something to do with it, the more critical point is that this little world has not been created for them – it’s a special domain for people who are at least 35 but preferably over 40. It’s little wonder why I’m feeling right at home in this serene environment.

It takes a lot to get me out of bed at 5.30am (particularly where an opening of shops is concerned) but Monday was quite a special day in the world of retail. Over the past year or so I’ve made the odd comment about the decline of retail, traditional media and the erosion of service. At the same time this column has chronicled the dark and bright spots of book retail and why the scene doesn’t have to be quite as grim as it is in the UK and the US.

Anyone who thinks that their commercial fortunes rely on marketing solely to 20-year-olds, and that the future will be downloaded, should have accompanied me as I shuttled from Roppongi to Daikanyama earlier in the week. While I should have gone straight from hotel to Haneda to catch my flight to Hong Kong,I could hardly resist the opening of Tsutaya Books – the latest creation from the CCC holding company that owns Japan’s chain of DVD/CD/book rental and retail shops. Set at the heart of this new community (dubbed T-Plan), Tsutaya Books, designed by Tokyo-based Klein Dytham Architects with graphics by the super-talented Kenya Hara, is set across three pavilion-style buildings connected by “Magazine Avenue” – a wood-plank boulevard of pretty much every magazine worth reading in the world.

In one pavilion there’s a new-generation Starbucks, a travel concierge to help browsers find the right guide or cookbooks (like Daunt Books in London, the travel section is organised by country, with each nation represented by fiction, non-fiction, food and guidebooks), a stationery department and a whole floor of CDs and vinyl.

In the centre building, the upper floor is dominated by a sprawling lounge dubbed “Anjin” that features a performance space, low and cosy seating, a huge bar at the centre and perfect lighting. The best feature, however, are the walls, which are stocked with complete collections of vintage magazines that can be enjoyed over a good espresso at 7am or a glass of Krug at 1am.

Tsutaya Books also has vintage books and magazines scattered throughout the store for purchase – worn cookbooks from the US, architecture journals from Germany and decorating books from the UK.

In the third pavilion the upper floor is devoted to DVDs – 80,000 films and TV shows. “If we don’t have a documentary in stock we can burn it for you,” explained a helpful assistant. “We have the rights to over 3,000 documentaries and we’re expanding this all the time.”

I wasn’t so much interested in purchasing a stack of reading for the flight home as I was in enquiring if it was possible to take up residency. If you’re worried that 2012 is looking bleak and uninspired – take yourself to Tokyo. Now.

Tyler Brûlé is editor-in-chief of Monocle magazine

tyler.brule@ft.com

More columns at www.ft.com/brule