When I was still new to Tokyo, I had only encountered Daikanyama by name—described in passing as an oshare neighbourhood, meaning “stylish” or “fashionable.” That reputation, cultivated over decades, still endures. I wasn’t sure what I expected from such a place, but the streetscape took me by surprise the first time I visited.

Whichever of the station’s four exits you choose, complexity meets you immediately. Buildings of varied styles conform to irregular plots, creating a kaleidoscopic arrangement of shops and homes. Stairwells spiral in Escher-like confusion; walkways crisscross a serpentine mesh of lanes and roads. Beneath it all, an undulating topography subtly asserts itself through the urban fabric. For all its reputation for refinement, Daikanyama might be Tokyo at its most jumbled. 

The area wasn’t an immediate favourite of mine, but with repeated visits over the years, I’ve grown used to its idiosyncrasies and developed an appreciation for its unexpected vantage points. Now, trips to Tokyo usually include an afternoon there. My curiosity turned toward the sequence of events that shaped it—there is, as it turns out, a layered architectural history behind the place.