That is an excellent topic for discussion. I'm not sure what, if anything, people associate with shoemakers with storefronts in Tokyo producing luxury shoes. But the history of segregation runs along postal code and zoning lines (someone (I believe it was an association of private detectives, but don't quote me on that) had the horrible idea of creating a census of exact zones and population counts and creating ledgers of zip codes associated with "bad" zones. That was bought by many major and prominent corporations in the 1990s (they have now disavowed the fact and claimed to have expunged this data) to use in making hiring decisions -- someone's post code could be used as an instant test of acceptability. Those historically segregated zones still exist in the shoemaking ecosystem, so maybe not the shoemaker with storefront, but the ecosystem of suppliers and workers he trades with. This applies especially to domestic cobblers, with these historical zones and cities still hubs of shoe craft, tanning, and repair.
As for the other discussion, I'm not sure what is the deal with the Norwegian and Anglo weeaboos jumping down my throat to make abstract jokes and raise the usual PC stuff. Speak to an actual Japanese consumer and he will readily tell you, with a wry smile, that herd behavior, novelty, and group dynamics inform a lot of his purchasing decisions. I'm not sure why this offends your sensibilities. Everyone is gagging over fetishizing Japanese shoes and calling their Japanese shoemakers "-san" then acts shocked when the conversation is not an effusive circle-jerk. But you trust the opinions of David Marx, because he had a book tour and is a blogger like you. Incidentally, I agree with his opinions. In an interview in a Japanese magazine ten years ago, he talks about writing an article for a fashion magazine about that season's trend: band T-shirts. The magazine introduces an example of a T-shirt you could wear, with a particular band on the front. A few weeks later, he goes to his usual street corner to snap street snaps as usual, and is shocked to find tons of people not just wearing band shirts, but the exact same band shirt described in the magazine. Instead of collecting Japanese fashion mags and putting them in plastic mint condition comic book polypropylene covers, you might first realize that they are prescriptive textbooks for a credulous consumer.
Regarding Corcos, I thought about my comment, and I have to admit it's a really interesting dynamic -- his own suits look smashing, but every one I see modeled by his clients is downright bizarre. It's usually the case that the tailor's suits look sub-par (no time to focus on self) but his clients' suits look great. This is the exact inverse. I don't actually think it's his style to make such dinky suits, but why does everyone order that? I really think his clients should emulate what he is wearing.
By the way, I wish to pick a bone with the storefront "Shibumi," which sells exactly 0% Japanese goods and simply fetishizes abstract Japanese concepts to no purpose while selling 100% European items. That is extremely strange to me. In the days when French artists became obsessed with Japanese woodblock prints, it created a fertile exchange of culture, with French impressionism being influenced by flat woodblock pictorial traditions and, less well-known, Japanese artists experimenting with applying Western portraiture to Japanese subjects, creating some very rare and unusual paintings. In the case of the tie store, I don't see any intercourse of anything occurring there. It's like calling something the "Zen Pizzeria." Utterly pointless and crude. Can you imagine going to a store called "Grandpa Hank's Old-Time Apothecary" and finding that they only sell folding hand fans? I'm at a loss.