The level of craft that goes into things in Japan is well-known enough that I don’t need to go on about it. But it’s wild. One place I didn’t anticipate seeing it was in gift paper. Here’s a post about that.
For context, I think gifting is cool, and I could try to explain exactly why some other time. For now, one broad stroke is that I enjoy making things, and I also enjoy the experience of feeling seen—and making other people feel seen. Those things intersect at gifting.
Anyway, I went to this gift paper store in Tokyo. It’s called Isetatsu. I guess it’s been around for about 200 years. They make gift wrapping paper and gift cards using a traditional woodblock printing process.
I admittedly don’t know much about woodblock printing or what goes into the colors and patterns on the papers they make. I’m a total amateur when it comes to this stuff. But I was completely seduced by it. The color combinations are expertly done—the kind where you see some seemingly random blue, brown, and green next to each other and think, I definitely wouldn’t have put those together. At least, I wouldn’t.
Their website looks like it’s from 1995, which, my brother told me, in Japan can be taken as a clue that the store is really good. It’s funny how places like this in Tokyo don’t have much of an online or even outward physical presence. Some amazing sushi place will be on the 9th floor of a random building or tucked underground. It seems like in Japan, good craft has its own attracting force.
The most compelling part of the store is a wall-sized shelf with a few dozen variations of traditional Japanese gift wrapping paper. It seems to come in a standard size. Here are some photographs of it. A big plan was to photograph each of the sheets and post them here, but I'm not trying to hang out at my apartment right now, no disrespect. I'll do it some other time.
Equally heartwarming as the shop’s gift paper are its small envelopes. They’re used for discreetly exchanging cash or business cards, which has its own social codes in Japan.
I hung out in the store for a while. Eventually, I completely abandoned my plan not to buy anything else on the trip and rang up a “haul” at the store, as I hear it’s called. I’ll use the paper for gifts and maybe hang some on my walls at home. Just when I thought the impromptu warming of my heart was over, by the way, I walked out of the store and saw a pair of rubber ducks with little helicopter hats on a parked bike. Cry?
Postscript: I’ve been using the paper goods to send out gifts and notes. Here’s a photo of one I sent to my brother and his wife, as a thank-you for helping me plan the trip. Yay.