Below is a unique, informative, and engaging review article for Please Put Them On, Takamine-san! Season 1, crafted to stand out with a fresh perspective, deep analysis, and a creative narrative style. This article avoids clichés, dives into the show’s unconventional elements, and provides a next-level exploration of its themes, execution, and cultural impact, while incorporating insights from the provided web and X post references. The tone is vibrant, critical, and reflective, appealing to both fans and newcomers.

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Please Put Them On, Takamine-san! Season 1: A Quantum Leap Through Panty-Powered Chaos

What if you could rewrite your mistakes by shedding your underwear? No, this isn’t a fever dream or a late-night internet rabbit hole—it’s the audacious premise of Please Put Them On, Takamine-san! Season 1, a 12-episode anime that premiered on April 2, 2025, and left viewers equal parts bewildered, amused, and oddly introspective. Adapted from Yuichi Hiiragi’s manga, serialized in Square Enix’s Monthly Gangan Joker since 2019, this Liden Films production is a genre-bending cocktail of ecchi, rom-com, and sci-fi that dares to ask: can a show built on panty-dropping time travel be more than just fan service? Spoiler alert: it’s a wild ride that both stumbles and soars, and we’re here to unpack why this anime is a paradox worth dissecting.

The Premise: Time Travel, Tighty-Whities, and Teenage Turmoil

At its core, Please Put Them On, Takamine-san! follows Takane Takamine, the high school goddess who’s got it all—perfect grades, athletic prowess, and a magnetic charisma that makes her the student council president and the envy of all. But her flawless facade hides a bizarre secret: the “Eternal Virgin Road,” a supernatural ability that lets her rewind time by removing a piece of her lingerie, which then vanishes into a quantum void. The catch? Anyone who sees her naked during this act retains their memories through the time leap. Enter Koushi Shirota, a socially invisible, self-doubting classmate who accidentally catches Takamine in the act and becomes her reluctant “closet”—tasked with carrying her spare underwear and assisting in her time-bending escapades. What follows is a chaotic dance of blackmail, flirtation, and fleeting moments of genuine connection, all wrapped in a glossy, ecchi-soaked package.

The premise is absurd, unapologetic, and teetering on the edge of genius or disaster. It’s as if Yuichi Hiiragi took a rom-com script, tossed it into a blender with Back to the Future and a Victoria’s Secret catalog, and hit puree. Yet, beneath the surface-level titillation, the show flirts with profound questions about perfectionism, vulnerability, and the cost of rewriting one’s fate—questions it doesn’t always have the courage to fully explore.

The Good: A Bold, Self-Aware Ecchi Experiment

Let’s start with what works. Please Put Them On, Takamine-san! is a masterclass in leaning into its own absurdity. Unlike many ecchi anime that rely on accidental boob-grabs or hot-spring mishaps, this show makes its fetishistic gimmick a central plot device. Takamine’s time-rewinding power isn’t just a quirky excuse for fan service; it’s a narrative engine that drives the story, forcing both her and Shirota into increasingly ludicrous situations. Whether it’s Takamine stripping to fix a botched test score or Shirota fumbling to hand her a new pair of panties in a crowded classroom, the show revels in its own ridiculousness, winking at the audience as if to say, “Yeah, we know this is wild—enjoy the chaos.”

The characters, particularly Takamine, are the show’s beating heart. Voiced by Yurika Kubo, Takamine is a fascinating paradox: a confident, manipulative queen bee who’s secretly riddled with insecurities. Her ability to rewind time stems from a childhood trauma where she wet herself during a track meet, a moment that’s both hilarious and hauntingly human. This backstory, revealed in a chalk-drawn flashback, adds a layer of vulnerability to her otherwise domineering persona, hinting at a deeper struggle to maintain her perfect image. Kubo’s vocal performance nails Takamine’s smug confidence while subtly conveying her emotional cracks, making her more than just a “trashy” archetype.

The dynamic between Takamine and Shirota, voiced by Daisuke Kasuya, is another highlight. While Shirota’s spinelessness can grate (more on that later), their relationship evolves from coercive blackmail to something resembling mutual trust. The show teases a romantic undercurrent, rooted in a childhood encounter where they bonded over a stray cat, but wisely avoids rushing into a full-blown romance. Instead, it plays with power imbalances, with Takamine’s flirtatious teasing and Shirota’s flustered reactions creating a dynamic that’s equal parts comedic and unsettling. The addition of Erie Evergreen, Shirota’s lesbian childhood friend, adds a refreshing twist, as her playful banter and emotional intelligence cut through the show’s more problematic tropes.

Visually, the show has moments of brilliance. Liden Films pours its budget into Takamine’s character design, with her exaggerated proportions and fluid movements stealing the spotlight. The opening theme, “Baby Baby Baby” by Masami Okui and Bonjour Suzuki, is an infectious banger that perfectly captures the show’s cheeky energy, while the ending theme by Makoto Furukawa offers a softer counterpoint. These musical choices elevate the viewing experience, making even the most repetitive episodes feel vibrant.

The Not-So-Good: Squandered Potential and Repetitive Rhythms

For all its boldness, Please Put Them On, Takamine-san! struggles to capitalize on its premise. The time-rewind mechanic, while innovative, becomes a crutch. Episodes often follow a predictable formula: Takamine makes a mistake, strips, rewinds, and Shirota scrambles to cover for her. This loop, while initially amusing, grows stale by episode three, as the show rarely explores the broader implications of time manipulation. Why not delve into the psychological toll of constantly undoing mistakes? Or introduce a rival with similar powers? The manga hints at untapped potential, like Takamine’s childhood trauma or her unspoken feelings for Shirota, but the anime skims over these in favor of more fan service.

Shirota, unfortunately, is the show’s weakest link. Designed as a blank-slate everyman, he’s so passive that he borders on infuriating. His lack of agency—described by one reviewer as “orangutan-level IQ”—makes it hard to root for him, especially when Takamine’s manipulations overshadow his rare moments of growth. His gradual shift from reluctant accomplice to protective ally feels underdeveloped, and his denseness regarding Takamine’s feelings is a tired rom-com trope that drags the narrative down.

Animation quality is another sore point. While Takamine’s ecchi scenes are rendered with care, the broader visuals are inconsistent. Backgrounds lack detail, and character faces occasionally suffer from uncanny proportions, with Takamine’s features shifting awkwardly between shots. Liden Films’ budget constraints are evident, and the show’s reliance on recycled time-rewind sequences doesn’t help. Compared to the manga’s stunning artwork, which one reviewer called “GOAT-tier” for its depiction of Takamine, the anime feels like a downgrade.

Then there’s the elephant in the room: the show’s fetishistic undertones. For some, the power dynamic between Takamine’s dominance and Shirota’s submission is a draw, catering to a specific audience that enjoys “humiliation kink” narratives. But for others, it’s uncomfortably coercive, framing Takamine’s blackmail as comedy rather than manipulation. The show’s self-awareness mitigates this somewhat, but it never fully interrogates the ethical gray areas, leaving viewers to decide whether it’s “trashy fun” or just plain trash.

Cultural Context and Reception: A Polarizing Gem

Please Put Them On, Takamine-san! arrived as part of the Spring 2025 anime season, a time when ecchi rom-coms were vying for attention amidst heavyweights like My Dress-Up Darling Season 2. Its April 2 premiere on Crunchyroll, with English subtitles and a 12-episode run, generated buzz for its provocative premise, but also sparked controversy. Fans on X praised its “fetish fuel” and “metaphysical implications,” with one user calling it “everything I want from an ecchi anime.” Yet others, like a scathing IMDb review, labeled it “the worst anime in history,” citing Takamine’s narcissistic manipulation and Shirota’s spinelessness as dealbreakers.

The show’s delays on Crunchyroll, particularly for episodes 3 and 5, fueled speculation about censorship due to its explicit content. This inconsistency frustrated international fans, potentially dampening its global popularity. Still, the manga’s dedicated fanbase, bolstered by Yen Press’s English releases, kept the hype alive, with the series nominated for the 2021 Next Manga Award.

Why It’s Next-Level (Despite the Flaws)

What makes Please Put Them On, Takamine-san! stand out is its refusal to play it safe. It takes a premise that could’ve been pure sleaze and infuses it with just enough heart to keep you invested. Takamine’s vulnerability—her fear of imperfection and her quiet longing for Shirota—adds a layer of depth that elevates it above standard ecchi fare. The show’s self-awareness, coupled with its willingness to embrace its own absurdity, makes it a fascinating case study in genre subversion. It’s not High School DxD, which revels in unapologetic excess, nor is it Monogatari, with its philosophical depth, but it borrows from both to create something uniquely its own.

For manga readers, the anime is a faithful yet flawed adaptation, capturing the source material’s humor but losing some of its visual flair. For newcomers, it’s a gateway into a niche corner of anime that doesn’t pretend to be high art but still leaves you thinking about identity, choice, and the absurd lengths we go to for perfection.

Final Verdict: A Flawed, Fascinating Fever Dream

Please Put Them On, Takamine-san! Season 1 is a glorious mess—a panty-powered paradox that’s equal parts hilarious, problematic, and strangely poignant. It’s not for everyone; if you crave nuanced character growth or shy away from manipulative dynamics, you’ll likely echo the sentiments of those who call it “gooner trash.” But if you’re willing to embrace its unapologetic weirdness, it’s a refreshing take on the ecchi rom-com formula, with a heroine who’s as compelling as she is controversial.

Score Breakdown (out of 10):

• Story: 6/10 – Creative premise, but repetitive execution.
• Animation: 5/10 – Stunning in parts, inconsistent overall.
• Sound: 7/10 – Killer OP, forgettable BGM.
• Characters: 7/10 – Takamine shines, Shirota drags.
• Enjoyment: 6/10 – A guilty pleasure with flashes of brilliance.
• Overall: 6.2/10 – A bold experiment that doesn’t always stick the landing.

Recommendation: Dive in if you love ecchi with a sci-fi twist or crave a dominant heroine who’s both flawed and magnetic. Skip it if repetitive plots or questionable power dynamics make you squirm. Stream it on Crunchyroll, but brace for potential delays.

As for a second season? The manga’s ongoing run (10 volumes as of March 2025) and the anime’s cliffhanger finale suggest there’s more to come, but no official announcement has been made. Until then, Please Put Them On, Takamine-san! remains a singular, polarizing gem that dares you to look beyond the lingerie and see the heart beneath—if you can stomach the chaos.