When I visit Tokyo a magnetic force pulls me back to chic Omotesando and colorful Harajuku.  After an obligatory walk through one of the busiest intersections in the world clearly marked by the centrally located Shibuya Starbucks—and the kiss at the end of “Lost in Translation”—it’s off to my favorite route.

Ride the subway to Omotesando Station and walk towards the high-end, quieter part of the main street.  Before crossing, stop and take a deep breath to prepare yourself for some steep sticker shock among a meticulously stylized retail backdrop.

Strolling along the shop and café lined street, you’ll swear that you are in Paris—especially as a beautifully dressed woman on a lovely bike—complete with a basket—passes you by.  But a few steps further and you’ll remember that you are in the land of design and visual aesthetic.  Confronted by the Prada store, that takes the marriage of retail and art to a totally different level, you’ll regain your bearings.

Once you’ve had enough of pretend-I-can-afford-this-land, turn around and head towards Shibuya/Harajuku on Jingumae.

Heading the other way, the first port of call is the newest shopping center in Tokyo, Omotesando Hills.  But like the Prada store, it’s more an art gallery than an American indoor mall.  Personally, I tend to skip the window shopping and head across the street (don’t pass go, collect $100 or enter the 5 floor Tod’s store) to Kiddyland—5 floors of toys for kids of all ages. 

And I do mean kids of all ages since this is Tokyo, a city that embraces technology, gadgets and trinkets from age 2 to 92.  Whether you need crazy stuffed animals like the “Killer Tomato” that actually has a white man hanging out of its fanged mouth or just want a pink Hello Kitty charm for your mobile, this is the place.  They also have a great selection of vintage T-shirts—perfect souvenirs to bring home to friends.

Right next to Kiddyland is my favorite street in Tokyo, Cat Street.  First because it starts with Anna Sui, but overall because it’s peaceful and filled with great little Tokyo-grown stores—pedestrians and fashionistas only since no cars are allowed.  A cute plus is the street graffiti.

Like Juicy Couture?  Try Honey Bee for terrycloth jumpers, knitted short shorts and fluorescent bikinis.  I broke down and purchased an obnoxious green and pink jumper…complete with green flip flops adorned with a pink bow and a rhinestone buckle.  The boys on Manly Beach back in Australia will see me coming from miles away!

There are also small toy stores and clothing boutiques every few metres.  Take some time to browse and buy.

Walk all the way to the end of Cat Street then back towards Kiddyland.  You’ve just made a semi-circle that takes you back to where you started.

Now you can press on to the heart of Harajuku for some more shopping and people watching.  Pass the Condomania store that every guide book will use as a landmark.  Keep walking and lose yourself in the back streets of Harajuku. 

A must one-time event is walking down Takeshita Street to see the girls dressed in costumes.  Reminds me of St. Marks Street.  The quality of shoes and clothes isn’t great, but the sites make up for the lack of good buys.

By now your credit card and feet have had a work-out.  Relax in one of the many cafes and marvel at your new purchases…and fix your make-up…you are living the life of a Harajuku girl so you must stay looking cute and desirable…or visit the loo and sing along as it plays musics, makes white noise and keeps you oh-so-clean...gotta love technology in the bathroom to keep discreet and ladylike at all times...

Spring has sprung in Tokyo and with the coming of the Cherry Blossoms, a sense of refresh and renewal is punctuated by the city’s signature color of the season:  Pink.

You can shop pink, dress pink, see pink, cook pink and eat pink.  My personal favorites are the new cherry flavored Kit Kats that have just been launched to keep the eager Tokyo palette interested in yet another new flavor. 

With some of the fastest go-to-market networks in the world, the city-dwelling Japanese have become used to change and new products—what have you done for me lately is the consumer mantra giving rise to an amazing array of ingredients, flavours and product lines on the shelves of Tokyo’s convenience stores and supermarkets. 

I also shrieked my best “Kawaii” when I came across packets of pink rice in the supermarket.  Not only can you buy sweet rice deserts in fancy cafes, but the average Japanese can cook a fuchsia feast right in her own kitchen.

Kawaii:  Japanese.  adj.  Pretty, cute, charming, darling, pet.  Stem from two kanji meaning "can love".

“The clothes in Tokyo's Harajuku shops are just so cute, so kawaii!"

Pash:  verb.  Kiss, make out, hook up first-base style.

“We pashed on the dancefloor at Hugo’s all-night long.”

Oh-la-la!  A proper night out in Sydney can certainly be found in what I call the “Chelsea of Oz”.  Yes, you have your fair share of beautiful men that pay absolutely no attention to me or any other girls for that matter—but the “gorg” (Aussie for gorgeous) heterosexuals romp in this neighborhood every weekend.  Come out, come out and plan a night out in Darlinghurst.

Rule #1 in Sydney—which I’ve been learning the hard way—is to eat before you go out.  If not, you are sure to end up face down in a bar before the fun even starts.  Wine, beer, fizzie drinks, hard liquor—whatever your poison, you’ll have mates topping up your glass at every turn.  So do the right thing and fill up your tummy before hitting the town.

With a great Thai restaurant on every corner, it’s hard to go wrong with a little pad thai, curry or anything smothered in peanut sauce.  My choice is “Best Thai” on Victoria Street because of the good eats and its convenient location—a few steps away from THE pub in area, The Royal  Sovereign Pub—so popular among locals that it's lovingly referred to as “Darlo Bar”.  More like a lounge/pub hybrid, you won’t feel out of place decked out in glamorous threads in this pub.

Next stop “The Victoria Room” for some more swankified fun.  Climb up a few stairs and make a red carpet entrance onto a long, narrow loft outfitted with mod couches contrasted with Victorian armchairs—and swarms of toned bums sitting on them.  A throw back to Spy Bar in 1990’s Soho, you’ll quickly abandon your carefree bohemian demeanor and don an attitude.  Go for a sparkling wine from Tasmania and schmooze in your stilettos.

Now that you are sufficiently warmed up, it’s time to hit the dance floor.  Any Sydney fashionista knows that come midnight, it’s time for Hugo’s Lounge.  Walk a bit to the red light district of King’s Cross.  An expansive club comprised of multiple lounge rooms, balconies and dance floors awaits.  You’ll feel part of the jet-set roaming around this nighttime playground for adults.

Dance, drink and rub elbows with leggy surfer girls-turned models and cologne-doused blokes.  Stumble down the front stairs to a fully serviced taxi line once your vision reaches code-red levels.  Hint, can’t tell if you are holding a bellini or a martini?  Time to call it a night…but a fun one at that.

Looks like a duck, walks like a duck, quacks like a duck.  From a certain angle, Sydney could be New York City.  Well, not exactly.  In a weird, time-warped kind of way, I sometimes feel like I’m back home in Manhattan—only it’s a few years ago.

Sydney is a couple of cultural paces behind the Big Apple—let me count the uncanny way:

I turn on my TV and “Sex and the City” is still running—it’s the last season and though I know the ending, I’m once again swept up in the eternal question:  Mr. Big or Baryshnikov?

Bored with Manolo’s from a few seasons ago—and no longer able to stomach SJP’s enviously skinny, toned body even after giving childbirth—I switch the channel…only for the "tellie" to bombard me with Terri Hatcher’s even sexier bod.  Yep, the “Desperate Housewives” craze has sailed across the world to Oz…the first season.

Embarrassed that I’m watching way too much TV, I turn to good old fashioned news—the hardcopy kind.  But all the news that’s fit to print in Sydney sounds scarily familiar:

• The Diet Trajectory:  Australian’s are facing an obesity epidemic (partially because fast food companies “hook” consumers on addictive ingredients—“Fast Food Nation” anyone?) while women young and old are suffering from anorexia and bulimia
• Faux-tox, botox and extreme makeovers
• The new pre-teen trend?  Blow job parties
• Women take a more active role in finding a mate--internet dating is all the rage
• Outcries that women can’t have it all because corporate modus operandi is stuck in the 1950’s, built on a male-as-bread-winner model
• Time-starved and challenged with inflating costs of living (especially real estate and school tuitions), do you leave work for family—or leave family for work?
• And last but not least, Sydney has just discovered Maureen Dowd and her provocative commentary on women today

I can’t help but think that there is more than just ocean and time differences driving this lapsed anthropology.  Taking a step back, the bigger picture reveals a driving social force—the awakening of the female in Australia.

Women here are just starting to realize that it’s possible to be both sexy and smart.  Allowing themselves to try on roles at various points on the gender continuum (including the extremes)—Australia’s “new woman” is filling pop culture with manifestations and expressions of experimentation—with pop culture reinforcing and fueling this phenomenon.

Circular and poignant, I secretly cheer Aussie women on to break free from the traditional roles assigned to them in the outback—if they want to—and stake their claim on whatever ground feels most comfortable.

Back in New York City for a quick business trip.  For the first time ever I embraced the waft of cold air that slapped me in the face as I stepped off of the plane at JFK.  Instantly, I knew I was home.

But I am proudly making "new American" mistakes during my first few moments on the ground--signaling that I really am acclimating to Sydney:

-Walking on the left side while everyone else is on the right

-Approached the wrong side of the car (thought driver's seat was passenger side)

-Drank way too much the other night, and almost forgot to tip

New York hasn't changed that much--most importantly, my friends and family are still amazing -- and make me laugh for hours.  However, my time away has dropped me back in NYC from a new vantage point--I hear and see more...taking notice of the little things:

A few freak outs include:

-I've never heard of 1/3 of the restaurants in the Time Out or New York Magazine food sections

-The news--even NY 1--is all about panic and fear (funny how America is just now chirping about Bird Flu--it's old news in Asia)

-My old dry cleaners is now a Duane Reade

My heart and soul will always reside in NYC.  But an out-of-body experience to a warmer, sunnier (in all aspects of the word) place is giving me a new perspective on the city that I love.

Gobsmacked:  adj.  Flabbergasted, astounded, shocked, utterly astonished.

“I was gobsmacked when I found out that an airline ticket home cost no less than $6000 USD!”

Spent last Saturday roaming around what I call Sydney's East Village--a neighborhood west of the central business district called Newtown.

Close to the University of Sydney, the too-cool-for-school student vibe keeps this developing community of young (straight and same sex) families grounded in the basics:  reasonably priced cafes, funky yet affordable shops and independently owned book/music stores --all wrapped up in a very relaxing atmosphere that makes you want to linger for hours on the main drag, King Street.  There's no attitude, just "affluent grunge" substance.

Found a cafe with a nice outdoor patio, Urban Bites.  A good table for one place--bring a book or people watch.  The wait staff didn't rush me through my fresh rocket and grilled chicken salad (yum) so I stayed for a foamy cappuccino and listened to Ella Fitzgerald on the stereo.

Off to shopping.  Bests included:

• Asian style nicknacks like incense, scarves, pillow cases and cheap Indian hanging earrings.
• Great selection of vintage stores.  Good for shoes, boots and belts.
• My personal favorite was Nu + Nan.  Think Urban Outfitters meets Stella McCartney but cheap, cheap, cheap.  They skimp on material (polyester and other synthetics)--but if you can stand the itch, the looks are great...and the price is even better.  Won't break the bank so you can experiment with a new look--low risk retail.

Each day in Sydney comes with discovery about the Aussie way of doing things.  I'm constantly questioning, "Where are the best places to spend my time...and money?"

It's a peculiar city.  On the one hand, it's as cosmopolitan as they come.  Amazingly creative designers, mouth-amusing food and a well-oiled public transportation system.  Okay, so I'm measuring Sydney's modernity against New York standards...

...on the other hand, because it's so far-away from other non-Australian major metros, there's an obvious monotony that emerges.  Trends quickly become mass "must haves".  From flavors of style to slices of restaurants, there is a Sydney standard.

I'll do my best to dimensionalize these aspects of Sydney for those interested, especially for future travelers to Oz or expats...to keep you in-the-Sydney-know, Manhattan style.

I'm the new girl in town and all eyes are on me--a big fish in a small pond?  I'll take the bait...