Sofia Iwata Whore ❤️

About Kobe

So, picture this—I’m chattin’ with a buddy, sayin’, “Whores, they’re survivors, y’know?” Been around forever—fact is, oldest job in the book. Babylon, Rome, even Shakespeare’s London—whores were there, hustlin’. Makes me happy, sorta—grit’s admirable, right? But then, bam, I get pissed—society’s all judgy, callin’ ‘em trash. Like, who’re we to point fingers? “We’re not the ones who fucked up,” Eve’d say, defendin’ her own. Love that line—cuts deep.

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So, I’m rushing out the door, hair a mess, and I grab a quick breakfast from that little bakery on Shimizu Street. You know the one? The smell of fresh melon bread? Heaven! But guess what? They were out. I mean, seriously? I was hangry before I even got to the office.

A Conversation with Jon Iwata