For me, it was love at first utterance. Before I knew that kawaii (pronounced like Hawaii, ka-wa-ee) meant cute in Japanese, I was already smitten with its English counterpart. My penchant for exclaiming things “cute” was often derided by boyfriends who preferred a more masculine description of their visage or by my mother who didn’t appreciate when I declared that both she and a toothless old man were “cute” in the same breath. However, when I moved to Tokyo as a teenager it became quickly apparent that I was in my element. Japan was a country that valued cuteness.

When kawaii showed up on my weekly vocabulary list, I intrinsically understood it. Unlike like other words that I had furiously scribbled onto flashcards, I had the cadence and context of kawaii down immediately. I still wasn’t sure how deferential my verb tense should be when speaking with a store clerk versus a yoga instructor, but squealing a proclamation of, “kawaii,” felt completely natural.

I stopped worrying about conjugating verbs completely after realizing that the vernacular of high school girls in Japan is actually just kawaii spoken at different frequencies or modified with cho for emphasis. After this discernment, my life got a lot easier—though my grammar never improved. Without understanding a word of the lunchtime conversation I could still make a valuable contribution by declaring a classmate’s scarf, “cho kawaii!” My personality was conveyed. My tastes were articulated. And my love of kawaii became permanent.

Not sure if you love kawaii? Come to Felissimo this week and check out Japan C’s display of cuteness all its forms. From meticulously miniature food to embellished cell phone accessories, from dog brushes to all things Hello Kitty, I guarantee you will find a reason to love kawaii too.