Kawaii at Stuyvesant

It seems as though the usual complaints that come with the start of a new school year have suddenly abated. As much as it is at the expense of our piggy banks, there is always one thing that students look forward to: stationery.

The overwhelming sensation upon discovering that Muji is dishing out their five-notebook packs for just three bucks is perhaps something we can all relate to. Contrary to the stereotypical image of an impatient New Yorker, we are never fazed by the long, snaking lines that accompany these special events. And not to mention, our pencil cases are already stocked to the brim with the trendiest school supplies or just about whatever YouTube bullet journalists deem “smooth” and “good for calligraphy.”

But if the process of waiting for and purchasing stationery is as essential as it appears to be, why does it continue to control a large sphere of influence in both our academic and social lives?

The answer touches upon science as much as it does upon our attitudes toward personal enjoyment and social conformity. Nowadays, stationery companies are coming up with increasingly clever technology to add a dash of “kawaii,” or endearing quality, in their designs. According to a Brains On! Article, “Why do we want to bite cute things?” by Molly Bloom, cuteness is actually associated with specific anthropomorphic characteristics that often leak their way into modern stationery. This can mean anything from a pencil featuring a blushing bunny to a walrus plush with abnormally long eyelashes, but the purpose never changes; increasing dopamine release instills within us the “aww” effect, while dimorphous expression, a phenomenon defined by exhibiting something different from your emotions, prompts us to think, “Gosh… This thing is so cute—I don’t know if I should even use it.” Essentially, you cherish it so much to the extent that you hesitate to use it for fear of damaging it. In that case, that “something” becomes more of an attachment than just a physical object.

At Stuyvesant, the stack of popular brands is piled high, with the most elite probably being Morning Glory, Fountain Pen Hospital, Muji, and Blick Art. Perhaps stationery distracts students from the immense expectations awaiting them each day (I mean, what can you expect from a school that has been featured as Niche’s #1 choice for the second time in a row?). Popular statements like “You have such great taste in supplies!” and “They must help with organization” open up a new avenue in conversation that does not involve “I’m so tired today” or “How much sleep did you get last night?” Such conversations make stationery a particularly enticing subject.

The Japanese-derived term kawaii has a secondary definition of being able to be loved, which aligns with stationery serving as a safe haven. Boring lectures during class? Try some of Line Shop’s ultra neon pens or Blick Art’s soft pastel chalk, and add some dazzle to your notes. The occasional escape from academia is understandable, but it doesn’t quite explain why such a large majority of American students are picking up on this trend. According to a recent lifestyle talk by Microsoft News, students’ ravenous hunt for the cutest and newest stationery takes root in the urge to blend in.

Conformity is presented in different ways, whether it is by simply observing the popular people in school or following #Studygram accounts on Instagram, which actively promote a relationship between productive study habits and kawaii stationery. Junior Michelle Chen comments on the influence that social media has had on her decisions to purchase stationery: “People on Youtube and other outlets who see stationery as a crucial part of personal expression inspire me to experiment with bullet journaling and art myself.”

The practice of investing in stationery does, however, take a financial toll, especially considering companies’ clever marketing strategies. Everything in life is a double-edged sword; just remember to choose wisely and at a distance farther than the length of three of Yoobi’s stackable markers, or you’ll be sorry.