Tokyo feels crisp and bracing again today. Recently, more and more customers have been stopping by our shop while pushing strollers.
The other day, I had a conversation with a visitor. “What kind of company is this?” I explained that we are a bookbinding company founded in 1938, and that we produce glue-bound notebooks through our workshops, as well as Drawing Pads and Memo Blocks.
They told me they keep a diary and would like to bind it so they can look back on it later. With that in mind, I introduced our glue-bound notebook.
After listening to everything, the customer said, “So rather than selling paper, you’re really selling technique.” That comment felt surprisingly fresh.
Thinking about it, they may be right.
Our Drawing Pads, Memo Blocks, and all other ITO BINDERY products are defined by technique. Because they are simple, there is no room for disguise—no falsehoods. Each piece is made by hand, which may seem almost fossil-like in today’s world, yet in every respect, the word that fits best is “solid.”
Every day, we align paper, cut it, fold it, bind it, and wrap it. By repeating these processes, we produce all of our products.
Put into words, the steps sound extremely simple.
For example, imagine the sound of aligning paper. Tap, tap. When we do it, that’s how it sounds. But when it is in the hands of a craftsman, the sound becomes sharper— thud, cut. Once you actually try it yourself, you can’t help but admire the level of skill involved. In this way, refined craftsmanship lives within simple processes, and that is how our products are born.
That is why pushing a button to mass-produce items and the way we make things at ITO BINDERY may seem opposite, yet are actually very close. Both result in outstanding products precisely because technique is at their core. At times, mass production and craftsmanship even merge, giving birth to uniquely expressive items.
Back to the conversation with the customer.
“Do you sell these stationery items as well?” “Even the pencils?” “If I buy one, could you sharpen it here just this once?”
I handed them a simple pencil sharpener, and had them sharpen the pencil on a sheet torn from a Drawing Pad. “Oh…” At the pleasant sensation of tearing the paper free, a spontaneous voice escaped.
These tools are meant for writing thoughts. But before that, being able to experience touching the paper—and tearing it— felt like a good thing.
Opportunities to touch paper may be decreasing. But when you actually do, in the very next moment, it feels as though your view suddenly opens wide. Your perspective clears, your thoughts begin to move, and before you know it, you want to create something new.
I feel that physically touching something is an entrance to seeing the world differently.
I hope you will touch a lot of paper this year as well. And when you visit our shop, I hope you will watch, feel, and experience our craftsmanship—with all five senses.
