I read this in a book one time and it made me realize, oh, so that's what they're doing." You see this all over Japan. Gifts are wrapped this way. The scarf is not a rag, it's art itself. The scarf becomes part of the gift. It's reusable.
Some of the scarves are beautiful. Some of the art is awesome.
The writer of the book said that she was always amazed westerners would buy a Rolex watch for a gift costing thousands of dollars then the gift wrapping is craptastic cheap-ass paper.
And I thought, "Wow, she's got a point there."
And we try to hide the present, or disguise it to fake out the recipient.
Similar idea with fencing.
Japanese do not necessarily want to hide the gift nor fake out the recipient. A bottle is still clearly a bottle, a gift of money is concealed but it's still clearly money. Likewise a fence isn't necessarily to keep a pet confined, rather, it's often to block something unsightly, or to create a sense of infinite space. For example, the opaque windows allow light but disallow a view of an industrial neighbor.
The patterned scarf can wrap a gift or carry a baby. It can be used a belt or a purse. It can become a booty bag or a hat, a shopping bag or lunch bag.
Look at 'em, Lookaters. Amazon [furoshiki]
The graphic designs are mind blowing. The colors outrageous. The cost ranges widely from under $10.00 to over $30.00.
The sizes vary. Obviously.
There are standardized ways of folding and tying the knots depending on the purpose. Videos and books explain all this. Some videos show only one way to wrap and tie a box.
I gave away this book four times to women who saw it my possession and found it interesting. I gave it to them unwrapped. What a slouch.
It completely freed my mind about wrapping.
I mean it.
I've given away simple presents that were wrapped so x-ka-visit-ley the recipients never unwrapped them. Because in their minds the wrapping was the gift.
For example. I went down to the Catholic store, the place on Santa Fe that sells things for churches -- they sell everything -- it's insane, I bought frankincense, myrrh and beeswax tapers. Big tapers. Big l-o-o-o-o-o-o-n-g huge-ass tapers. I bought a whole box of them. The longest they have. Which is very long indeed. And wrapped two together using thick fibrous Japanese paper as a broad band, then finer colored paper as thinner band, then plant fiber used for crafts tied in an attractive knot. Layers of bands. That's all. Oh! And a few sprigs of wheat that Deano sent me. But you just don't see that. Years later I would visit and there were those tapers untouched. Unlit. Still wrapped as I did them. They never used the candles. They couldn't bring themselves to toss the wrapping.
That's how awesome this book is. The wrapping was all just crap scraps.
It freed my mind. From having to find the exact right box, to wrap the box perfectly, to conceal the candles. I gave away the full box of candles. I forget how many there were. Each pair was wrapped identically and the people who received that simple inexpensive gift f'k'n love it.
Gerkins. Like pickles. That's the name of the place on Santa Fe, near King Soopers in Denver. It's a totally nondescript plain gray building. You'd never imagine the whole world of church supplies is inside it, nor would you imagine you can buy everything that churches buy including a giant wooden crucifix such as churches have behind their altar. You can buy one if you want.
The woman emphasizes global warming and I'm all, "oh bite me."
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