Kyoto's Geisha For A Day -- Wannabes Annoying Traditionalists

KYOTO, Japan - Covering her face and neck with white liquid, painting her lips a brilliant red and putting on a pink kimono decorated with peonies, Junko Adachi became a make-believe maiko.

Maiko is an order of apprentice geisha unique to Kyoto, a city southwest of Tokyo known for its ancient temples and Zen gardens. They train for years to perform elegantly for the upper echelon of Japanese society.

All it took for Adachi was a half-hour trip to one of more than 20 Kyoto businesses that help people participate in the latest local fad for $80 to $160.

"I'm so happy. It's as though I'm someone else," the 27-year-old amusement-park worker said, admiring snapshots of herself dressed as a maiko.

The real maiko, who take pride in their centuries-old tradition of discipline and ladylike behavior, are peeved at the wannabes for wandering around in costume while licking ice cream cones, puffing on cigarettes and chatting in loud voices.

"I ask that they stop tarnishing the maiko's image," said Tomiko Sasaki, president of a union that oversees 22 maiko and 36 geisha in Kyoto.

Kaoru Nishio owns the shop where Adachi got her makeover, and admitted that wannabe maiko - with their blotched makeup and duck-like gait - don't come close to the real thing.

Sasaki recently called a dozen pretend-maiko businesses to a meeting to complain. But she acknowledges there is little she can do to stop them.

Chikako Mizoochi, a 19-year-old whose maiko name is Toshiharu, says that given the years of training in dance, singing, percussion instruments and tea ceremony that she endured, it isn't fair that women can get a quick makeover.

"People can't tell if they're fake or real," she said.

To address traditionalists' concerns, one shop has a worker follow the make-believe maiko around on the streets with a sign proclaiming them fakes.

The Kyoto Tourism Federation will recommend only those shops that take pictures of the made-over women but forbid them to walk around in public.

Most Japanese women no longer know how to put on a kimono anymore. Few Japanese have ever attended a maiko party, which are held for members only at old-style bars called tea houses and cost thousands of dollars.

No wonder being a maiko for a day is such an alluring idea.

Rieko Suzuki, a 21-year-old advertising-firm employee, arrived at a maiko shop dressed in a down jacket and Nike sneakers, standard attire for Japanese youngsters.

"If I came all the way to Kyoto, I just had to do it," she said, clutching the snapshots of herself in a black kimono.