There are few people who enjoy eating airplane food, my dad being one of them. But then again, he’s the kind of guy who buys Spam and instant ramen by the case. I despise airplane food so much that when I book my flight I always pre-order the vegetarian meal…I figure it’s hard to screw up salad. So, imagine my surprise the first time I went to Japan. Instead of mystery “beef” or “chicken”, a rock-hard dinner roll, and assorted inedibles, I enjoyed chicken curry, simmered vegetable stew, a silky egg custard with shrimp, and a fresh fruit salad (not that prepackaged fruit cup thing). For our snack, instead of a soggy old ham-and-cheese hoagie, we had cold ramen noodles served with a tasty dipping sauce and garnished with strips of cucumber. Also, those overcome with a Trans-Pacific snack attack can order a steaming cup of instant noodles…which beats a bag o’ peanuts any day.

Japan has a well-deserved reputation for delicious food, and apparently that starts on your airplane ride there. After your meal, you may want to sit back with a cup of hot green tea and tackle your paperwork, catch up on your correspondence, or enjoy an aggravating round of Sudoku…just whip out one of your uni-ball pens from Mitsubishi Pencil Co., Ltd. These ergonomically designed pens with silky-smooth ink flow have been Japan’s premier brand for the last 50 years. The company is dedicated to continually improving its technology…the hugely successful uni-ball line has durable fade/water resistant inks that embed itself in paper, preventing fraudulent check-washing. The pens have a long shelf life and will not dry out, and the uni-ball line is specially designed to not leak or explode in flight. Just as good airplane food (and free airplane liquor) can make a 13-hour flight fly by, a good pen can make a game of Sudoku…well, equally frustrating, but ergonomically enjoyable, at least.

I was late. And I was unprepared. And when the elevator door creaked open on Felissimo’s fifth floor to a slide show already in progress, I was embarrassed. I scuttled into the nearest chair and started nodding my head in interest. At the front of forty or so onlookers, Kate Williamson lit up a slide full of handkerchiefs. Okay, I thought. The lecture is about handkerchiefs. Or textiles. Or could it be about nose blowing? Williamson was on to the importance of maple leaves in Japan before I could make up my mind.

Maple leaves segued into a conversation about moon-viewing parties, moon-viewing rooms and the moon in general. That was when I stopped trying to figure out what this soft-spoken woman in a kilt was talking about and decided just to listen.

A good decision, it turned out, because Williamson seemed to know a quite a bit about almost everything Japanese. With the flip of a slide, I learned a concise history of The Tale of Genji (the world’s oldest novel), the intricacies of kimono color combinations and that Williamson’s favorite is called cicada wings and pairs cedar brown with sky blue. I also learned about indigo dyeing, Okinawan fabrics, and the fashion potential contained in socks.

When the talk finished and Williamson began signing copies of her illustrated diary, A Year in Japan, I kicked myself for being late. Who knows what I missed? Discussions of dragons, plastic wrap or kabuki all seemed plausible. My disappointment ebbed, however, as I walked through the Japan C exhibit on my way downstairs. Examples from Williamson’s talk were all around me: geometric patterns inspired by nature; muted color combinations inherited from court ladies; the world’s best markers. I realized then that I could stroll through Japanese culture (albeit without Williamson’s insights and expertise) whenever I wanted and as long as I arrived before the end of this month, I could even be late.

Don't miss Dolls: From the Cute to the Grotesque: A lecture by Dr. Susan Napier this Thursday at the Felissimo Design House.

In junior high school, my best friend loved cheesy romance novels. The covers usually showed Fabio and a corseted maiden in a pose inappropriate for the maturity level of junior high school students, so my friend would use a book cover to keep her racy literature a secret. I encountered the same incognito reading habits many years later while riding a train in Japan. I noticed that lots of people use book covers while reading in public, whether they’re reading theories of quantum physics, the latest Harry Potter book, or 101 Ways to Cook Tofu. Although such harmless titles seemed unnecessary to warrant a book cover to me, the people I spoke to confessed that they were afraid of others judging them based on what they were reading. They didn’t want to call attention to themselves, regardless of whether the book was an innocent one, an impressive one, or something with a long-haired hunk on the cover.

If privacy is equally important to you, the Shredder Scissors from Sun-Star Stationery Co., Ltd. are sure to come in handy. These scissors quickly shred documents or personal information, while being easy to use and portable. Their high-quality, durable products, ranging from the Shredder Scissors to its hand-held magnifying lens, have a straightforward, simple design. The company believes that function should be self-evident in the design of the product, so shredder scissors look like scissors that shred paper... no incognito tricks required.

As a child, I loved going shopping for back-to-school supplies. I’d roam the aisles of the office-supply store stocking up on marble composition books, boxes of pencils, a new color backpack…I loved the fresh-start feeling of every new school year. Every year, I’d also head over to the Japanese-products store for my most treasured item... a Hello Kitty pencil case. These rectangular cases were emblazoned with Kitty cuteness, padded, plastic, and built like a Swiss Army Knife. They had a button to open the pencil compartment, a button for the pop-out eraser holder, a button for the pop-out pencil sharpener, a button for the pop-out mirror, and a button to reveal a secret storage area. Before my interests turned to makeup, this was the physical embodiment of my 7-year-old happiness.

Even as an adult, I love office supplies.. notebooks, pens, sticky papers…but still, it’s the Japanese stuff that really make my heart sing. They’re practical, but they’re also cute and whimsical... adjectives that I’d be hard-pressed to use at Staples. The charming stationery by Miyuki, Inc. perfectly embodies this aesthetic. Clear plastic folders are embossed with charming flower, leaf or heart designs, and sparkle with lame powder. The company uses special printing, processing and sewing technologies to create stationery and household goods that are both functional and girlishly sweet. They are popular among young Japanese women because their designs are both sophisticated and innocent... an elegant step up for girls who’ve (sadly) outgrown their pop-out pencil cases.

Tegami (手紙): A letter

Today, writing letters shares rank with cranking up the gramophone or tipping the milkman. Important only after receiving a present, replying to a grandparent and interviewing for a job, the pen-and-paper variety has quickly eroded from email to text. The Japanese, however, buck this trend. Though they love to email and text, high esteem still shrouds the traditional letter. Along with stationary megastores and mandatory calligraphy class in school, the Japanese employ dozens of words to specifically describe the function of a letter and to whom it is addressed. But my favorite is tegami because its meaning is inveterate, etched in kanji. The first character means hand and the second, paper. The perfect reminder for all those who can’t quite remember how they survived before E-vite.

There are some people who always have the newest model cell phone, or the thinnest laptop computer, or the tiniest digital camera... I’m not one of them. Keeping up with the latest in technology never appealed to me, I tend to upgrade only when my previous device breaks down and it’s so technologically obsolete, no one sells them anymore. Case in point: I used to go running with a portable tape player, a big clunky yellow block strapped to my hand, followed a few years later by a portable CD player, a round, cumbersome disc that I carried in one hand, with a couple CD’s and replacement AA batteries in the other. I finally joined mainstream America and upgraded to an iPod a few months ago, which will hopefully last me the next 10 years, until it too goes the way of the Beta player.

Something I am keen on upgrading, however, is switching to the futuristic binders by Lihit Lab., Inc. Sleek, professional, and cool, these binders combine innovative designs with high-tech functions. The Kado-Lock & Twist Ring File Series has an ingenious ring mechanism that enables you to open and close the rings with one hand. Their Nomos Design features binders made from materials such as wood, aluminum and steel, which is a heck of a lot more stylish than those clunky plastic binders of my college years. These binders, with their fusion of functionality and design, are sure to give your filing system a more efficient and stylish upgrade... no batteries required.

I come from a long line of letter writers. Whenever my mother travels, she brings correspondence accumulated over 20 years in her carry-on bag; she jokes that if she brings the congratulations on a friend's baby she must also include the subsequent graduation from high school and marriage. My grandmother still cuts out crosswords from my local paper back in Iowa and sends them to me every fortnight in a bulging envelope.

I, however, am a note writer. Lists of kissable boys, studied observations of the outfits my teachers wore, and cramped pages full of gossip. I still write notes to myself, to my friends and sometimes to my future self.

When I was 13 and at the height of my note career, I moved to Japan. I fretted about many things and nervously wondered if the girls in my class would even pass notes—I’d heard the Japanese were studious. Studious, it turns out, about writing notes. And serious too. Notes aren’t composed on a torn piece of recycled notebook paper in Japan. In every desk hides an arsenal of stationary and stickers. A rainbow of gel-ink cloaks the most cutting opinion ("look at her ugly skirt!") with cheer.

During my first math class, I was caught up in the colorful zigzag of notes across the room when a girl behind me tapped my back. She passed me an intricately creased piece of paper. A smile played on my face as I tried to navigate through difficult folds and layers of stickers. It must be an invitation, I thought. Finally, I managed to open the letter and looked anxiously inside for a morsel of gossip. Little bears drinking tea smiled up at me. Incorrectly conjugated verbs floated above their heads. In meticulous hot pink bubble letters, one word stood in the middle of the page: hello!

Come to Felissimo this week and see how seriously the Japanese take their stationary. I promise that the textured papers of every hue, designer sticker collections and superior pens will have you at the first bubble-lettered hello.

I’m sure every family in America has a secret recipe for Thanksgiving Turkey. Growing up in Hawaii, my mom taught me to baste the raw turkey in a thick layer of hot dog mustard, wrap it in foil, then pop it in the outside grill. Every so often, we’d peel open the foil and pour our secret ingredient over the turkey... a can of 7-Up. It sounds gross, but every year we do it, and every year we have the sweetest, most tender turkey you can imagine.

In Japan, they don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, but on New Year’s Day every family eats a traditional clear soup for their first meal. It’s called o-zoni, and like Thanksgiving Turkey, every family has its own recipe, the only constant being that each serving must contain a piece of mochi (sweet rice cake) symbolizing wealth. My family, whose ancestors are from Hiroshima, uses clams to flavor our o-zoni; whereas my husband’s family, from Tokyo, uses chicken. I once went to a New Year’s Eve party in Hawaii, and the o-zoni there tasted strangely like beef stew.

Like the mochi which symbolizes wealth in o-zoni, symbolism is an important part of Japanese culture. Attached to gifts or cards are gaily colored paper cords called mizuhiki, looped into coils or woven into auspicious shapes like pine needles or pinecones. Mizuhiki means "drawing water" so they are not only decorative, but when attached to a gift it symbolizes purity. The gift cards from Kakukei Co., Ltd. feature elaborate, beautiful mizuhiki, which lend a festive, handmade touch to any gift. This company also produces notebooks bound with traditional Japanese bookbinding techniques, elegant in their simplicity. The paper products from Kakukei preserve traditional designs and will probably be around for many generations... just like my family’s 7-Up basted turkey.

One of the great things about learning a foreign language is the fun to be had in messing it up. It’s those completely innocent, yet always unintentionally hilarious mistakes of vocabulary and grammar that make the journey towards second-language acquisition so colorful. In Tokyo, the blockbuster success of the charming Japanese movie “Shall We Dance?” inspired one wedding chapel to wreak hell with English nouns and verbs and propose, “Shall We Wedding?”, followed predictably by “Shall We Reception?”. At my Japanese school, a question on an exam required students to fill in the correct kanji (Chinese character) to complete the phrase. The correct answer was “JYAKU-niku-KYOU-shoku” (The weak perish and the strong survive), but one inventive student wrote “YAKI-niku-TEI-shoku” (Barbeque beef combo plate). It wasn’t the answer they were looking for, but it grammatically wasn’t incorrect, either.

Like the clever BBQ beef student, it’s refreshing to think outside of the box. New twists on old ideas can unexpectedly put a smile on someone’s face, like the products from Hasegawa Cutlery Co., Ltd. A company dedicated to producing user-friendly products in an eco-conscious manner, they blend practicality with wit. Their signature product, Casta scissors, has handles that look like bright green clamshells. You simply squeeze the clamshells to cut, so they can be used by children or those with a weak grip. The blades are housed in an ingenious plastic cover, which enables kids to cut without nicking small fingers. Lastly, the clamshells make a cute clicking sound, resembling the sound of castanets, its namesake. After all, you should try to have fun with everything in life... from your scissors to your mouthwatering proverbs.