
There’s a specific form of chaos that comes with mixing excessive heels, tofu, and a lease that unintentionally disappears from below you. Kurumi Mashiba, the central hurricane of this chaos, is a PR powerhouse who clothes like each outing is a runway present and lives her life by way of a nicely-filtered Instagram lens. She works at a stylish inside design firm, markets desk lamps like they’re life-altering revelations, and forgets to resume her condo lease, which—plot twist—ends with her sofa-browsing in a shared home with three strangers. Nothing says new beginnings like sharing a rest room with somebody who thinks cleaning soap is optionally available.
This setup is basic rom-com fare. However the enjoyable lies within the particulars. Kurumi lands in a shared home with Shun, a quiet chef who appears to exist completely in linen shirts and opinions about minimalist residing; Haruto, a counselor whose WiFi is extra energetic than he’s; and Ayaka, an artist who’s both portray, delivering issues on a scooter or utterly checked out. From the primary episode, it’s clear the actual drama isn’t simply whether or not Kurumi can survive residing with three strangers, however whether or not she will let go of her curated model of life and lean into one thing extra actual.
The collection makes its title very clear from the beginning: picture issues to Kurumi. However as her meticulously styled life unravels, the present cleverly peels again her layers—not simply of make-up and completely coordinated outfits—however of expectations, insecurities, and fears. What begins as a fish-out-of-water story turns into a mild (if predictable) journey of self-discovery and studying to fall in love with out attempting so arduous.
Now, let’s discuss romance. Kurumi and Shun’s sluggish-burn chemistry is like watching two individuals silently determine whether or not to share the final dumpling. It’s awkward, delicate, and generally infuriatingly sluggish—however that’s additionally what makes it really feel extra grounded. There’s no grand romantic monologue below the rain. No swooping orchestral music. Simply two very completely different individuals slowly figuring one another out over bento bins and passive-aggressive dishwashing schedules. It’s charming. Generally irritating. However principally charming.
Visually, the collection is clear and comforting. Tokyo by no means appeared extra inviting—each road nook is bathed in tender mild, and each condo shot appears to be like prefer it was sponsored by a Scandinavian furnishings model. The distinction between Kurumi’s daring style sense and Shun’s impartial-toned universe works nicely, not simply aesthetically however symbolically. This can be a world the place design and picture are central, however the characters are always attempting to determine what lies beneath them.
Nevertheless it’s not all sunshine and Instagram filters. Whereas the present delivers on appeal, it sometimes will get tangled in its personal hashtags. Supporting characters like Haruto and Ayaka drift out and in of relevance. Haruto, who may’ve added layers of emotional nuance with his counseling classes, finally ends up giving recommendation that feels like fortune cookie leftovers. Ayaka, meant to be the free-spirited artist, typically feels extra like a unusual afterthought.
The pacing, too, has dedication points. Simply when a subplot begins gaining momentum, it fizzles out or will get wrapped up with a bit of bow and an earnest speech. Emotional conflicts are generally smoothed over too simply, and the stakes, whereas actual in a “will they or gained’t they” form of approach, don’t at all times really feel pressing. It’s as if the present is afraid to mess up its personal aesthetic with something too messy.
Nonetheless, this isn’t a collection attempting to be profound or edgy. And that’s okay. It’s meant to be a comfortable watch—a cup of heat tea after a protracted day form of present. It celebrates the little issues: the weirdness of roommates, the vulnerability in taking off emotional armor, and the awkward pleasure of liking somebody whenever you’re undecided in the event that they such as you again. It additionally quietly critiques the obsession with appearances, even because it totally indulges in them. Kurumi might begin off dressing up for love, however she finally ends up studying how you can present up as herself—which, sarcastically, may be probably the most trendy factor she does.
In the long run, Why I Dress Up For Love is the tv equal of a rigorously assembled charcuterie board. It appears to be like good, tastes acquainted, sometimes surprises you with a bizarre pickle, however principally sticks to what it is aware of greatest—mild romance, a little bit of comedy, and a aspect of emotional consolation. It isn’t good, and it doesn’t attempt to be. However if you happen to’re wanting for one thing heat, straightforward to digest, and simply quirky sufficient to make you smile, this one would possibly simply be price dressing up (or down) for.
Ultimate Rating- [6/10]
Reviewed by – Anjali Sharma
Comply with @AnjaliS54769166 on Twitter
Writer at Midgard Instances