IN THE early 2000s, many Filipinos grew up hearing “Itsumo,” a romance rap by DiCE and K9 Hi-C that captured the spirit of youth, T9 keypad phones, and the rise of hip-hop culture in the Philippines. Itsumo is a Japanese word meaning “always,” “usually,” or “habitually.”
Two decades later, that word seems to have found new meaning in a different context: the Filipino love affair with Japanese surplus and second-hand goods.
Today, itsumo can describe how often Filipinos visit surplus shops like almost habitually. From ceramic wares and household utensils to sofas, cabinets, electronics, multicab vehicles, and even second-hand shoes, Japanese surplus has become deeply woven into everyday Filipino life.
What once began as practicality has evolved into a culture, and for some, an obsession.
This is not entirely new. After World War II, surplus GI jeeps were transformed into jeepneys, now a national symbol and a vital mode of public transportation. Over time, this surplus culture expanded into ukay-ukay, thrifted shoes, and curated second-hand luxury items.
Today, surplus is no longer merely cheap or practical. It has become a lucrative business. Some entrepreneurs even conduct “select” buying, handpicking branded shoes, bags, and appliances directly from surplus shipments before they reach the public.
Why do Filipinos love Japanese surplus so much? The answer is simple: quality. Japanese products are widely known for durability, craftsmanship, and functionality.
Many surplus items appear barely used and sometimes almost brand new. This reputation has fueled trust and demand, making surplus shops multiply rapidly, mushrooming across cities and provinces.
Yet as the habit grows, it is worth asking uncomfortable questions. Are we buying because we truly need these items, or because they are tempting and cheap? Are our homes slowly filling with things we may never use? At what point does itsumo? a habit, turn into addiction?
Ironically, Japanese culture itself offers a lesson. In Japan, people often release possessions without deep sentimental attachment, believing that items should move on when they no longer serve a purpose. Marie Kondo popularized this philosophy with one simple question: “Does it spark joy?”
Perhaps Filipinos can learn from this mindset. Loving surplus is not inherently wrong. It can be economical, sustainable, and even culturally meaningful. But moderation matters. Itsumo may describe a habit, but it should never justify excess. In the end, what truly matters is not how much we acquire, but how wisely we choose what to keep.
- George Evan B. Cuadrillero