What is a Lucky Bag (Fuku bukuro) 福袋? Lucky Bags are exactly what they sound like: Grab bags full of goodies sold at a discounted price – a Japanese consumer New Year’s tradition.
The concept of a Lucky Bag is simple. It is a bag that can hold anything from candy, toys, electronics, clothes, makeup, jewelry, or underwear – sold at a discounted price. For instance, if the “true” value of the clothes inside of a bag were 50 US$, then the Lucky Bag would probably be sold at around 25 US$. The only catch is that you don’t know (or get to choose) what is in your bag.
It’s pretty straightforward and I’ve seen Lucky Bags in other countries as well.
Why don’t I understand it: Don’t get me wrong, I understand the concept of an ordinary Lucky Bag. But then… Japan takes it to a whole new level.
Japan always does that.
- The stakes for buying a Lucky Bag are too high in Japan. My fiancé, Ryosuke, took me to one of the most famous shopping buildings in Japan, Shibuya 109, during the 7-day New Year’s Sale. I was expecting crazy – every time we’ve shopped there, we are assaulted by skinny little Asian girls with bleached blonde hair, caked on make-up, bushy fake eyelashes, teetering around on high heels and shouting through colorful, plastic megaphones.
And that’s on a normal day.
The 7-day bargain sale was just like that… on crazier. This time, all the stored were blasting Psy’s Gangam Style (the Gangam Style phase just hit Japan a couple weeks back), and all the girls were shoving Lucky Bags in our faces.
So I decided to buy one. And then I looked at the price tag for one of the smaller bags. 一万円. (Around 120 US$).
They expected me to pay 120 US$ for a bag of things I haven’t seen that might not fit me. And… people were paying it. With pleasure.
- People give Lucky Bag’s as gifts. Ryosuke’s father’s birthday was a couple days after New Year’s Day. His wife and daughter gave him a Lucky Bag from Nike. It had a windbreaker, a pair of sweatpants, and two workout shirts. He liked what was in the bag well enough – and I’ve seen him wear the windbreaker since then.
However, that Lucky Bag was 120 US$. Luckily he liked what was in the bag… but they could have easily thrown down over a hundred dollars on something that he didn’t want or need.
(But then again, when you’re shopping for someone else, they probably have the same chance as liking what is randomly put in the Lucky Bag as they do liking what you personally picked out.)
- Brands don’t just put all their “unsold” items in the bag; most high-end clothing lines market a special line of clothes that can ONLY be found in the Lucky Bags. Talk about good marketing.
Some stores will publish “samples” of what can be found in the Lucky Bag online, to try and entice people to line up on New Year’s morning and fight for bags.
New Year’s Morning is the Black Friday of Japan. No one gets shot or trampled (this isn’t America), but there are incredible lines of people just waiting for new Lucky Bags.
And if you want that one limited-edition jacket that’s super cute, you have to buy a whole bag of other random things before you can get it.
- Most stores offer Lucky Bags – regardless of what they actually sell. For the days after New Year’s, I actually went around making a list of what kinds of things I could find in Lucky Bags. Here’s my (incomplete) list, ranging from normal to weird.
- Clothes (pants, shirts, scarves, jackets)
- Shoes (but they don’t list the size)
- Children’s Toys
- Expensive Jewelry (I’ve seen Lucky Bags at jewelry stores that cost up to三万円, about 380 US$)
- Expensive Electronics (examples include SD card, digital camera, mini-printer, monitor, and laptops).
And people actually buy them.
- It’s only a “Good Deal” if you like everything in your bag. For instance, let’s assume you bought a Lucky Bag at your favorite shop for 35 US$ (but good luck finding one that cheap). Inside there was a sweater (originally 28 US$), shirt (originally 16 US$), and necklace (originally 14 US$). If you look at it purely numerically, you got a great deal! 58 US$ worth of things for only 35 US$!But you only really love the sweater. You like the shirt ok… and the necklace is a bit weird… If you only bought things you love (like the sweater), you would have spent less. You convince yourself you got a great deal on your bag of stuff, but on the inside you’re a little bitter.But next time, you tell yourself, next time you will choose a better bag.
Why I really DO kind of understand it:
People buy Lucky Bags for the same reason they play the lottery. Everyone likes to believe that they are “lucky” and might walk away with that dream jacket, necklace, or laptop that they’ve been eyeing but can’t afford.
Those “under-dog wins the prize” ideals appeal to everyone, regardless of your nationality. I would like to believe that if I bought a Lucky Bag, I would love what was inside.
But I know better than that. And, I bought a Lucky Bag of candy (and by “I” bought, I mean Ryosuke’s best friend bought and gave it to us as a cheap engagement present)… thinking there is no way to hate candy. Candy Lucky Bags are pretty safe.
Or not. I only ended up liking a little less than half of the candies – the rest I gave away to friends, neighbors, and Ryosuke’s sister.
Final thoughts. I don’t like that feeling of hope I get every time I’m tempted to buy a Lucky Bag. I know I won’t win big. I know it is full of things I wouldn’t buy even IF they were on sale.
It’s just… that feeling of hope… it’s so strong.
For other “Things I don’t Understand About Japan” posts, check out:
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