Showing 17–32 of 157 results
$250Add to cart
RABBIT + BE@RBRICK = R@BBRICK2016年8月発売予定 R@BBRICK CHROME PINK 400％ ●全高約320mm ●東京スカイツリータウン・ソラマチ店にて販売！ ※製品の特性上、細かい傷や擦れ痕が本体に残っている場合がございます。 問合せ先／東京スカイツリータウン内 メディコム・トイ 東京ソラマチ TEL.03-3622-6000 R@BBRICK TM & (C) 2015-2016 MEDICOM TOY CORPORATION. All rights reserved.
$220Add to cart
The brand name, which is RUSS spelled backwards.2017年3月発売・発送予定 BE@RBRICK SSUR 100％ & 400％ ●全高約70mm／280mm ●ウォータープリント仕様のSSUR BE@RBRICKが登場!! ※本商品は水転写プリントのため、個体差があります。 ※監修中のサンプルを撮影しております。 発売商品とは一部異なる場合がございます。 SSUR (C) BE@RBRICK TM & (C) 2001-2016 MEDICOM TOY CORPORATION. All rights reserved.
2016年9月発売予定 BE@RBRICK x atmos 400％ ●全高約 280mm ※本商品は完全限定生産品につき、 在庫が無くなり次第、 販売終了とさせていただきます。 予めご了承ください。 問合せ先／ 1/6計画 TEL.03-3467-7676 Sports Lab by atmos TEL.03-6457-8755（11:00～21:00） 販売元／TEXT TRADING CO., LTD BE@RBRICK TM & (C) 2001-2016 MEDICOM TOY CORPORATION. All rights reserved.Add to cart
Believe it or not, I can actually draw.
2018年1月発売・発送予定 BE@RBRICK JEAN-MICHEL BASQUIAT 400％ ●全高約 280mm ※監修中のサンプルを撮影しております。 発売商品とは一部異なる場合がございます。 (C) Estate of Jean-Michel Basquiat Licensed by Artestar, New York BE@RBRICK TM & (C) 2001-2017 MEDICOM TOY CORPORATION. All rights reserved.
$2,500Add to cart
Have a taste. Take your time. He won't feel a thing.This unique vinyl art bust is a life-size 16’’ and will be available in two recipes. Alter Ego [limited to 299 pieces] will help take your mind off reality with vanilla and butterscotch ice cream topped with vibrant berry fruit syrups, rainbow sprinkles and a maraschino cherry. The Long Goodbye [limited to 199 pieces] uses pink and purple fruit sorbets, pastel syrups and sprinkles, and a pink cherry to calm you down in a permanent heatwave. Both recipes are served with a spoon to maximize pleasure so you can devour the confection before it melts out of noop’s mouth. Meltdown captures noop’s euphoria leaving him as temperatures get irreversibly warmer. While a steady flow of cream begins oozing down his chin, the landscape inside him slowly changes shape. noop is powerless as sea levels rise, droughts persist, and the environment as a whole takes a turn for the worse. A spoon is waiting there for you to take a bite of his happiness before it leaves him forever. Both editions of Meltdown come with with a split-open noop packed with scoops of mouthwatering ice cream, vibrant fruit syrups, trails of cloud-white whipped cream, a dash rainbow sprinkles, one juicy cherry, and an iridescent “c-o-a-r-s-e” spoon firmly secured into the delectable cranial dessert. Both editions are securely packed inside a color-printed gift box and embedded in black sponge. Sometimes before we can face reality, we need to escape it for a moment. So savor every spoonful. His loss is your reward.
$650Add to cart
A Feast For OneWhat am I doing? The words rattled in his head at first as a whisper and then as a cry. What have I done? Before him lay Fish, his bones like scalpels, a defense that appeared too late. He took a step back from the body and looked up in search of someone, anyone, who had instructed him to do this, a creature to assign his blame to, an owner who had requested the body. But there was not a vulture in the clouds, not a snake in the sand. There was only his decision: the consequence of an impulse, an action he could not undo. He stood there paralyzed, waiting for Fish to become whole again. This was a dream, a trick of the mind, another mirage in a desert of hallucinations. But bits of bone were wedged between his teeth, scales clung to his gums, and the taste of Fish, bland and faint, lingered on his tongue. This is not me, he insisted. Other animals broke the rules and shed their good nature, but not him. The only way out of this was to back away until he had retreated entirely. Out of sight, out of mind, his mother used to say. Just one foot behind the other—that’s all he had to do. But why was he taking a step toward the body? Why was his face now buried in the flesh? This is not me, he reminded himself, but he ravaged Fish, tearing at his skin, devouring the tail and then the fins, working his way toward the head all while Fish continued to spasm and fight. This is not me! he insisted with every ferocious bite, repeating the mantra in his head until the words spun out of his control and rearranged themselves into a question. Is this not me? he wondered. Is this not what I wanted all along? Is this not what I was destined to become? Before he could find an answer, Fish made a sound. It came not from his gills but from his lips, a final gasp for water, or perhaps something else, a noise not for himself. “Do…” It was a word. Fish was trying to say something. “Do…not…” He put his ear closer to Fish’s mouth, waiting for him to finish the sentence. But why wait? He knew what Fish would say. Do not come near me. He pressed his ear closer. Do not make me disappear. He held his breath. Do not eat me. But Fish did not say a word. He twitched, his skeleton kicking up grains of sand, until all that remained of him was a limp, motionless frown. It was hot. A breeze tried and failed to gain traction. The sun and the horizon were spaced apart like enemies. He stepped back from what was left of Fish and fell down into the warm sand. He was not hungry anymore and this made him happy. “I did it,” he said aloud and closed his eyes with a smile. This was not a moment to lament or run away from: it was a victory, and he was going to savor it. But later when he looked back on this, he would remember only that feeling of satisfaction. He would not recall how as hours passed and the day came to an end, for a fleeting moment, he thought how nice it would be if he had someone to share the feeling with. The sun was setting, the sky was pink, and he sat up as if waking into a dream. “Would you look at that!” he said aloud. When no one responded, he searched around for another animal admiring the sky, but even his own shadow had disappeared beneath him. No, he would not remember that.
$1,200Add to cart
The tale of noop and paw!High up in the elastomer, paw! gazes out at the yawning caverns, the rocky outcrops, the semifluid deltas, the pristine silence coating it all. If the world has always been so beautiful, then why did he always feel so alone? All those years, all that time: searching, wishing, waiting. He had spent so many seasons hunting for his own likeness, for another paw!, because in the elastomer, of course, trust is a tricky thing. He had come across locks, nisms, and even noop: those harvested creatures born of fleshy fruits, yet all the while he kept to himself. But now he has a friend. His best friend. paw! rests his head on his friend's furry shoulder, breathes in the elastomer's quiet air, and smiles for the first time in a long time. paw! knows better than to ask questions. Silence with his best friend is better than silence alone. He has learned that much. But lately he has been wondering... Why are his ears so floppy? Why are his arms so long? And what is that hanging from his neck? Silence, yes. paw! won't ask a question, but... He tugs on the ears. He lifts the sleeves. He pulls down the zipper... A noop. It was a noop all along. paw! howls into the elastomer. Noop's smirk falls, and he bows his head. "Do you forgive me?" he asks. paw! takes a step toward noop, fists tight, jaw clenched, chest puffed. "You're my best friend," noop sings. "Won't you please forgive me?"'
Where are you hidding? The rip-roaring cry of an eruption trapped inside you will not reassemble a broken past. So let yourself out of yourself. Burst forward into the elastomer. You are not a chasm but an echo that resounds within it. So reverberate accordingly. Combust through every frequency and ride the crest of every wavelength. There's no use hiding anymore. You are no longer the sum of what you conceal from the world. Trees wrap in your direction. The harvest is in just one year's time, and by then you'll be gone. So believe you are the exception to the rule, the foil in the plan, the mirror in the mask. It's about time, and you know it.Add to cart
What’s inside you?An iconic pair has been reborn. In this lifetime they’re going to get things right. Jaws [26.5 cm] is one of coarse’s most recognizable designs, and its companion piece, Aura [35.5 cm], was first released last year. Emanating the pinks and blues of the loser trees they hatch from, both noops stand proud and resilient, ready to make the most of their lives. Jaws – Halcyon contains noop, a removable shark helmet, and a non-stick pad to keep the helmet atop his head as he feels the blissful force of finally being alive. Aura – Halcyon comes with noop and his dragon companion firmly fixed around his body to keep him safe and defended as he moves forward into the world. The figures are securely packed inside separate color-printed gift boxes and embedded in black sponge. Jaws and Aura – Halcyon implores us to move into the future while cracking open the the cornerstones of our souls. Your better days might be behind you, but your best moments are still ahead.
$1,000Add to cart
Deep in the empty forest“Ready?” the mother asks. The boy admires the sharpness of the blade. She zips up his coat and sends him out the front door, hoping he will turn around and wave to her. But he only marches forward, the axe resting on his shoulder as he heads to join the other children at the edge of the village where a forest once was. At the bottom of the valley the log braces for their arrival. They will come as they always do: a swarm of them with maddening grins on their cherub faces, each toppling over the other, hunting for wood for their winter fires. When the day is done they will lug their prizes up to the village, and chimneys will cough up the captured so that all winter long the dead will blanket the sky. The whistle cries and the children barrel down the hill at full speed, careful not to trip over stones and squirrels and roots from trees chopped long ago. They charge deep into the valley, searching for a log. “I see it!” a girl shouts, tricking the others so she can overtake them and be the first to cut her saw into the fresh wood. It is this single act all the children want most. It is not a prize or a reward, but the pride in being first that sends them charging after the girl, hoping their arms will outreach hers. But the boy stays behind. Is that not something moving behind those boulders? he wonders. The log presses his back against the cool rock. He wants to disappear inside it, to become nothing but a motionless lump in its surface. Then he hears something move above him. A squirrel, he thinks. A raven, he hopes. “Hello?” A voice. A boy’s voice. The log peers up, a frown emblazoned across his face. He waits for the axe to strike him and split him into two, just as he has witnessed so many times before. But the only thing that strikes him is the voice of the boy. “Are you okay?” he asks the log. The log takes a breath. Am I okay? He asks himself. “No,” he answers aloud. “No I am not.” “I don’t want to hurt you,” says the boy. “Then put your down your axe.” The boy turns around to ensure the other children are nowhere near him. “But our village,” he says. “We need wood for the winter.” “Why not go off into the next valley? A forest still grows there. There is enough wood there to last you until you’re old like me.” “But the next valley is too far, and you will give us enough wood to last for many months.” The log stands up and peers into the boy’s eyes. “Your village has killed my father, my mother, my brothers, and my friends. I don’t have much time left myself; in a handful of winters I’ll be rotted and dead, and then you can carry what’s left of me and do what you like. But for now, let me live my lonely life in peace.” “But—” “Go to the next valley,” the log says. The boy looks into the eyes of the log and sees his own mother’s severed limbs spewing embers in a hearth. “Please.” Where is he? Have you seen him? Do you think he found a log? Their voices echo through the valley. Just as the boy is about to turn around, their footsteps thunder toward the boulders. “He found one!” a girl shouts. “No,” the boy mutters, as he sees them. “No!” he tries to shout. He drops his axe and puts his hands up as if to stop them. The children trample over him, their heels digging into his eyes. Heavy and old, log tries to lumber away, but he has only taken two steps before the first blade strikes him. Soon enough they blind him, too, though he can still hear their summer laughter.
$600Add to cart
paw! rawOn the outside, they resemble a fluid physicality, effortlessly connected to their surroundings. Meanwhile, inside a destructive nothingness stirs, waiting for the perfect moment to escape their empty shells in a beautiful display of rage. Though fearless, their existence is infinitely detached and without meaning – a burden to bear forever.
ready to take your signaturecoarse is on a mission to protect its rarest species. In order to salvage released editions, we are now offering one of our most iconic art figures, exposed in raw beauty.
the first ever raw art piece from coarseThe 12'' paw! comes painted in untouched white. Keep him pure or turn paw! into your own one of a kind piece — we give the future of paw! into your hands. The tiny monkey–rabbit is cushioned in black sponge and packed securely in a carton box — covered in heavy art drawing paper, printed in light grey tones. Ready to take your signature. paw! raw is on sale for a limited time only. Every 4th paw! raw comes with a unique sketch by coarse on the box.
$500Add to cart
Let Me Be Your GuestRaccoon thought he was going to die. He had gotten lost — first in a city filled with cars and then atop a mountain far up in the clouds. For weeks he had tried to find his way back home and now here he was in the middle of a desert, his legs about to give way beneath him. Yes, I’m really going to die, he thought, a lightheaded moment of clarity amid the confusion of the days that had led him here. He would die without ever again chasing his brothers up trees, without ever again feeling his mother’s paw stroke his fur as he drifted off to sleep on a cool summer night. And then he saw something. It appeared to be water. But Raccoon knew all about mirages. He knew better than to trust his own eyes, but sometimes his appetite betrayed him. “Water,” his parched mouth tried to cry, but only a weak wisp of air escaped him. Raccoon ran across the sand, using every last bit of strength inside him to reach the lake or the pond or the false promise of either. Like a stray dog he scurried toward it, his tongue limp outside of his mouth. No, Raccoon thought. It cannot be. But Raccoon’s eyes did not deceive him. It was water, and more. Sitting in the baking heat of the desert sun was a bathtub carrying a fish. Raccoon did not know which he wanted first—the water or the meat. Saliva spilled off his tongue and sizzled on the hot desert sand. Better to consume both at once. With one final mote of energy, Raccoon held his paws up, licked his lips, and leapt into the air. “Wait!” Fish screamed. “You don’t want to eat me!” Raccoon recoiled. “Why not?” he protested. “I’m poisonous for animals like you. Don’t you know that?” Raccoon had never hunted for fish before—it was his older sisters who caught them from the stream near his family’s home—and he was immediately humbled by the both Fish’s knowledge and his willingness to share it with him. “I’m sorry,” Raccoon apologized. “But I’ve been walking for days. I’m lost, you see. I’m hungry and I miss my family.” “Well, why don’t you go see what those vultures are pecking at over there? They’re quite the culinary creatures.” “What’s a vulture?” Raccoon asked, suspecting it might be a tumbleweed bouncing by. “You don’t know what a vulture is? Kid, you’ve never left your forest, have you? Those are vultures.” Fish pointed his fin at three enormous black birds squawking and flapping their wings on the ground. As raccoon walked over they backed away, revealing the skeleton of a snake. Raccoon dove to the ground, licking the bones. Hardly any meat remained but the flavor was still there, and that was enough to sate him for the time being. “So what are you doing out here anyway?” Raccoon asked, returning to Fish. “I’m trying to reach the ocean,” Fish said. “The river where I come from is no longer clean enough to live in. Chemicals flow through waters that were once blue. Fish less savvy than myself mistake plastic for food, and their bodies rise to the river’s surface. Sometimes the bodies of so many fish float up there that they block out the light from the sun.” “That’s awful,” Raccoon said, furiously licking the bones of the snake. “What’s especially awful is that we aren’t just ordinary fish who are dying.” “Because you’re poisonous?” “Not just that,” Fish said, splashing water onto his warm face. “We are a very special type of fish. We can grant wishes.” “Wishes?” “That’s right.” Raccoon dropped the snake's skeleton and his eyes grew wide. I wish to sit at the banks of the river and help my sisters catch minnows. I wish to fall asleep beneath the ancient branches of the old oak tree beside my mother and father. I wish to go home. Fish burped. “The wishes come at a price, of course.” “A price?” “That’s right. For you, the cost of one wish is pulling me to the ocean.” “The ocean?” “Yes, the ocean—where I can swim in a straight line until the day I die. An ocean with food so plentiful and so rich that all I’ll need to do is open my mouth and a meal will swim right in. Yes, the salt might sting my eyes, but better salt than chemicals. Better sharks than plastic.” “But the ocean is so far,” Raccoon sighed. “And so is your home, it seems.” Fish was right. Either Raccoon could walk toward his forest—or, more precisely, the direction he thought his forest was—or he could tug the bathtub all the way to the ocean, ask for his wish, and be granted it. Besides, no one had ever entrusted Raccoon with a task like this before. Reveling in pride, he puffed out his chest, jumped up, and saluted Fish. “I’ll do it!” “Perfect,” Fish crooned, a deep unfriendly laugh bubbling out of him. Raccoon was about to grab the rope when he twisted around. “Hey,” Raccoon said, finding himself very clever. “If you’re from a river, then how did you end up here in the desert?” Fish paused longer than necessary for such a simple question. “Someone else was pulling me before,” he finally said. “Another animal. And…um…well…” Fish began to fumble for words, and the water in his bathtub sloshed around as he searched for an answer. “You granted him his wish?” Raccoon asked, hands clasped beneath his chin. “Exactly!” Fish cheered. “What was it?” “His wish?” Raccoon nodded eagerly. “His wish was…to fly. Now, we better get going before it gets dark. We have a long day ahead of us.” “Yes, sir!” Raccoon grasped the rope in his hands and focused on the horizon before him. He knew his forest was somewhere in the opposite direction, but if traveling to the edges of the earth meant going home, then that was what he had to do. Fish lay back as Raccoon pulled him, a nice breeze cooling him down the faster Raccoon began to trot. Yes, Fish thought. A stronger animal will get me there faster. I’ll need someone better than the raccoon, but for now he’ll do. He certainly is better than that snake ever was.
$650Add to cart
Night after nightFever’s eyes slide shut and he jolts awake in the darkness. The creatures’ crackling voices levitate around him like mist as they spin their heads and play with their golden dice. Fever tries to sit up and run away, but he is weak with sleep. Either way, it is too late — it is always too late. They have noticed his arrival. “Quick!” one hoots, and they hobble toward him with a rhythm Fever recognizes as his own heartbeat. This dream always begins the same: Fever wakes on a grey frosty floor. It is just after dusk and he knows he has to run from the omens. On the nights when he can find the strength to stand, he pushes his bare feet against the metal floor and sprints with all his might in the direction that sounds the most silent. Some nights he makes it to the meadow, which unfolds into Haven Forest. The ground here is blanketed by feathers shed long ago, some of them fossilised in amber from sunlight that penetrates through the ancient trees. Lonely flowers wilt beneath Fever's frantic footsteps and omens call his name from their roosts high above. On the rare occasions when he has made it to the edge of the woods, Fever discovers unbreakable brass bars. He tries to tear them apart with his hands, but he is always too weak. Only then does he realize he is just a toy in their cage. But the omens are not all bad. When Nightfall and Daybreak find him, they lift him and carry him to their nests where they guard him, allowing him to dream in peace. But other nights, Insomnia and his herd get to him first. They hoot lullabies and hold Fever’s head with their black feathers, promising to be gentle. Instead, they perch on their golden dice and feed him nightmares from their shimmering beaks. On this night, Fever tries to stand until he feels the feathers of an unknown omen clasp tightly around him.
$1,800Add to cart