He Took Photos of the Shelves at a Japanese Drugstore—Only Later Did He Realize He'd Photographed the Wrong Thing

The day Chen Boyu returned from Kansai, his suitcase was stuffed with three boxes of souvenirs, but his phone's photo album had gained something strange: close-ups of drugstore shelves. While sorting through the photos, he scrolled to one of them—a whole row of products with similar-colored boxes, labels printed in fonts so small they were illegible even when zoomed in, and a few handwritten price-comparison tags beside them. He stared at that photo for a long time, because he realized that in the moment he'd only been focused on taking pictures and hadn't noted down what actually made each box different.

The problem started like this. On his last night in Japan, he walked into a drugstore near the station, intending only to buy patches and stomach medicine, but got drawn in by an entire display around a corner. The shelf didn't hold just one kind of product—it had over a dozen items with similar packaging styles. Some had kanji, some were covered in katakana, some printed the ingredient list on the side, and some had only a single line of tiny text. He thought to himself, I'll just take photos now and look it up slowly once I'm back in Taiwan. But after returning to Taiwan, the information in the photos simply wasn't enough, because the most crucial lines of text—he hadn't captured any of them.

The first wrong assumption came quickly. He assumed these products were categorized the same way as ordinary health supplements, that you could judge the tier by price range—the more expensive ones must be newer and better. He sent the photos to a friend who frequently traveled to Japan, and the friend replied with just one line: First check whether they're even for the same purpose. That sentence stopped him cold, because from start to finish he had never confirmed whether the items on the shelf were even the same category. He zoomed in on the photos again and only then noticed that some boxes had completely different labeling sections—some emphasized daily intake, some stated when to use it, and some didn't even have Chinese labeling.

The second clue was a tag he'd photographed himself. In the store, he'd casually snapped a photo of an information board next to the shelf, which had Japanese and English side by side. Not much text, but it was clearly about usage and precautions. He took this photo to another friend who understood Japanese, and the friend said that such boards usually just list the key points—what you really need to read is the full labeling on the back of the box. Only then did Chen Boyu realize that what he'd photographed was the outermost promotional material, not the product's actual information. He began to suspect that he'd been conflating "looks impressive" with "suitable for me."

While searching online, he saw many people discussing Japan 2H2D. In the threads, some asked about packaging differences, some asked how to distinguish versions, and some directly posted photos they'd taken of the backs of the boxes. Chen Boyu didn't order right away. Instead, he saved those photos one by one and compared the labeling sections, manufacturer information, and import labels. He discovered that under the same product name there were actually different channel versions—some included Chinese instructions, some were Japanese-only, and some had different box dimensions. These differences didn't necessarily mean better or worse, but they at least proved one thing: if all you have is a blurry shelf photo, there's simply no way to tell which version you've got.

He then did something very basic: he typed out a list of every word visible in the photos, then cross-referenced it with the information he'd found. The list had a column for "usage," a column for "precautions," and a column for "storage conditions." He realized he'd completely overlooked storage conditions before, and that column was almost unreadable in the photos. He also noticed that some items had phrases like "do not exceed the recommended dose" or "use according to instructions" on the box—tiny text that he hadn't paid any attention to at the time.

The third turning point came from his younger sister. She works at a pharmacy, though not with these kinds of products, and she reminded him of just one thing: if you haven't even confirmed whether it's a prescription drug, don't rush to compare prices. After hearing that, Chen Boyu went back to look up Taiwan's relevant regulations and learned that some items are classified differently in Taiwan than in Japan, and the import channels differ too. He didn't reach any conclusion from this—instead he ended up with a pile of new questions: How did this box get in? Is the labeling from the original manufacturer or added separately? If there's Chinese on the packaging, who put it there?

In the end, he didn't buy anything. Or rather, he emptied his shopping cart and turned it into a set of notes instead. What he wrote wasn't which product was best, but what he should photograph next time he goes to Japan: the front of the box, the complete labeling on the back, the manufacturer and address on the side, any information sheets the staff provide, and his own reason for wanting to buy it at that moment. At the end of the notes he also wrote a line: If it's to bring back for family, ask a doctor or pharmacist first, and bring along a list of all the medications and supplements they're currently taking.

That shelf photo was eventually deleted. He said keeping it would only make him think he'd already done the research. What was actually useful was going back through the store's website, screenshotting and saving the labeling sections for each product, and checking them one by one. He didn't find a standard answer, but at least he learned that when comparing this kind of thing, price and packaging color are the last things you should look at. First see clearly what it says, where it comes from, and whether it suits you—then decide whether to put it in your basket. That order was something he'd had completely backwards before.