Steamed buns, pants, socks, sake A day in the life of a Japanese convenience store

Kenji Yamamoto wasn't sure that his business would survive when he opened Japan's first convenience store in a Tokyo neighborhood in May 1974.

- Justin McCurry

The 7-Eleven outlet he ran with his wife stocked tinned food and detergents – items that most people had previously bought from supermarkets. His first sale was a pair of sunglasses.

Half a century later, it is not only the Yamamotos' bright red and orange uniforms that have changed. Convenience stores – or konbini – are no longer a late-night alternative to early-closing supermarkets, but an institution that millions of Japanese could not imagine life without.

The tinned tuna and washing-up liquid on the Yamamotos' shelves have been joined by rice balls, bento, sandwiches, crisps and snacks, sweets and chocolate, fruit and veg, freshly brewed coffee, steamed buns and fried chicken, underwear, books and manga and, yes, cigarettes and alcohol.

Konbini are a fixture of the urban landscape – their brightly lit frontages promising round-the-clock sustenance and polite, if functional, service. They inspire fierce loyalty in customers, who will debate with friends whether FamilyMart deserves its reputation for the best fried chicken and 7-Eleven for the tastiest tamago sando – egg salad sandwiches.