I walked at a fast pace through Asakuka’s shopping block, nearly passing the Hanko Stamp 21 shop. I was on a mission: Asakusa for chopsticks and sumo — but first, the Hanko Stamp.
I’ve wanted a Hanko Stamp ever since I made one in Insadong in Korea. That experience felt fitting because many Korean stamping traditions were inspired by Japan in the first place. But the desire became stronger after a photo walk with Alfie, when he explained how people in Japan register their Hanko Stamp and make it officially theirs — almost like a personal logo, something close to a family seal.
The small shop in Asakusa didn’t seem particularly catered to foreigners. Both shopkeepers looked at me briefly and let me browse quietly. It was only when I asked, “Can I make a stamp?” that they disappeared into the back and returned with a neatly laminated English translation sheet.
Making a Hanko Stamp involves a few choices. First, the handle — plastic, wood, or even fancier stuff. Then the size of the chop. And finally, the words to carve into it.
I quickly chose the plastic handle. The wooden ones looked beautiful but felt a little expensive for a first timer. Next came the size. Lastly came the words: Kulture Kween.
The lady went to the back again and returned with a paper and an iPad.
“Kulture okay,” she said. “But how about the second word?”
Apparently, I had two options: Kwin or Quin. The latter had a meaning associated with good luck, while the first had none. Naturally, I chose the second.
At that point, everything seemed settled, but at the very last minute, I asked if it would be okay to change the Hanko Stamp body to a Hello Kitty design instead.
She said yes.
That change meant a slightly smaller circle and a higher price, but I reckoned — when in Japan.
She asked me to come back in 40 minutes. I spent the next half hour roaming around Asakusa, getting customised chopsticks for my nieces and nephews and answering a few work emails. Eventually, I returned about 30 minutes later, hoping the Hanko Stamp would already be finished because I had a sumo show to catch.
Thankfully, it was.
The Hanko Stamp was handed to me in a typical Japanese paper shopping bag, but this time it was sealed with my own freshly carved chop. My very own official seal — even though I don’t fully understand the characters. Cue the “non-Asian with a random Chinese character tattoo” energy.
Still, I stepped out of the shop very pleased.
The whole thing cost ¥4,900, with ¥3,500 for the Hanko Stamp itself. I do wish they had given me a protective pouch or case like the one I received in Insadong.
But honestly, a Hanko Stamp from Asakusa makes a very good, very non-boring souvenir.
Hanko Shop 21 Asakusa address: Japan, 〒111-0032 Tokyo, Taito City, Asakusa, 1 Chome−9−1 山口ビル 1F.
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