The Philosophy of Everyday Beauty - “日常の美” Part I

There has always been a quiet dignity in the things we live with. Not in the canvases hung behind glass, nor the sculptures standing untouched in public plazas, but in the companions that accompany us each day. A lacquered bowl worn smooth by countless meals. A woven cloth softened where sunlight falls. A watch that marks the morning train or rests by the bedside at night, quietly recording the rhythm of our passing days.

For this journal I want to reflect on a great mind that has influenced me and the spirit of Hitori since its very beginning. Soetsu Yanagi, philosopher and poet, wrote in The Beauty of Everyday Things that true beauty, utsukushii mono (美しいもの), dwells not in the extraordinary but in the ordinary made well. The spirit of mingei (民芸, folk craft) teaches us that the implements of daily life carry dignity when shaped with honesty. A wooden comb, a ceramic vessel, even a simple notebook, each is capable of stirring emotion when touched, handled, and crafted with care.

Yet in our present age this truth has nearly been forgotten. Utility is too often stripped of grace, with beauty cast aside. Objects once cherished and faithfully used have been reduced to flimsy forms, careless in colour and thoughtless in workmanship. What should inspire intimacy instead becomes disposable. But history shows another way. There was a time when even the most ordinary spoon or chair was made with such sincerity that its beauty deepened with the years. This intimacy, the bond between object and life, is what we believe must be restored.

For me no object represents this union of beauty and function more profoundly than the wristwatch. Tokei (時計) is perhaps the finest of everyday crafts: small, intricate, practical, and yet capable of carrying culture within its form. A well-made watch must function with accuracy, endure with reliability, and be worn without hesitation. And yet it can also stir something deeper, an emotion born of proportion, of detail, of texture. Its weight on the wrist, the way light bends across a dial, the character revealed through use, all combine to create presence. It therefore behooves Hitori to create timepieces that embody meticulous craftsmanship while balancing the luxurious emotion of beauty with the honesty of utility.

It is here that philosophy finds form. The Meguro GMT Tora editions, for instance, carry the fierce enamel of a tiger—an emblem of guardianship placed boldly on a functional traveler’s tool. The Pale Planet, born of collaboration with artist Kolahon, reshaped enamel into instinctive abstraction: a dial like a painting that could be worn every day, steady yet alive. And the Yoshino, reimagined by Levi, known as “Red Hoodie,” became a dialogue between timeless cherry blossoms and the urgency of youth culture. These remind us that a watch can be more than a device. It can be a vessel for craft, for collaboration, for culture itself—an everyday companion that carries meaning with each glance. —

Origin Stories, No. 06