The Woman Who Gave Me Japan...
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- 5 min read
“Where in Japan are you from?’
“I am from Hiroshima.”
“Aaah, a very historical city” my father said.
“And I was there at a very historical time” she replied.
Silence fell across the dinner table, the weight of what was unsaid heavy on all those who understood. She had prepared an extraordinary feast of ‘sukiyaki’, each piece of thinly sliced meat placed perfectly uniform on the platter, the seafood arranged as if there was a mathematical grid guiding the layout. Obscure mushrooms I had never seen before and strange sticks we would use as utensils to eat with. She was magical, beautiful, mysterious and so very mystical in my 8-year-olds eyes, unknowing of the history she had witnessed before. That was Motoko Hirahara…that was the beginning of my love affair with Japan.
Having a father who was a designer meant my world was shaped by colour, fabric, typefaces and samples of all wondrous things like TAA hostess uniform samples and off-cuts of Marimekko ‘unikko’ poppy fabric pinned to a notice board! But there were also the interesting people who fascinated me; those who worked in his design office especially my big sister, who, in my eyes, was everything I wanted to be, the busy and fussing clients who visited his home office with design problems that needed solving, and those like Motoko that provided this wide-eyed budding little designer a view into bigger world, one of mystery, beauty and the power of the drawn image.
I longed for a career in design, following my father and my sister’s footsteps. It seemed like it was a foretold future, days after school spent just ‘hanging out’ pretending I too was one of the staff. My sister giving me ‘projects’ like designing tissue boxes, or choosing colours for a new range of wallpapers (yes, it was the 70’s!). But all that came crashing down with the sudden death of my father when I was just 12 years old. A massive ‘widow maker’ heart attack that took his life, and my future design career aspirations away.
The urge to design, draw, create stayed with me and my world was always filled with creating; clothing, drawings, ceramics. You name it, I tried everything and I loved it all…the ability to create and solve problems. The design angle remained strong and hence my tertiary career took me down that path. No sooner had I enrolled did I realise a bigger dream was possible. The university was offering a ‘design study tour’…to Japan! Was this my chance to see the world of the magical Motoko again?
Filled with excitement and alongside me my fellow design students. Japan was life changing. There was something about what I saw, experienced, felt, that embedded itself in my veins. It was never going to leave me. We entered department stores and pleaded with staff for copies of their store posters designed by Ikko Tanaka, Shigeo Fukuda and Kazumasa Nagai. Packaging that was so tantalising I needed one of everything…silver shopping bags from Matsuya department store, shop fronts from Hayashi and Bau and window displays to completely turn our design ideas upside down in Mitsukoshi and Isetan. This was my happy place…unfamiliar, strange, fuelled by the deeply entrenched cultural norms that would never be my world. Yes, it was addictive!
That was 1985 and the student designer in me became deeply embedded in the idea of Japan, the culture that was not mine. But I wanted so badly to understand it, to embrace it and to feel as if Motoko was guiding me through that world she first presented me with so long ago. So here I am, 41 years later…riding bikes, but design driving the heart of my every day, my need for perfect ‘matchy matchy’ and my annoyance when fonts are used with incorrect spacing and colours ill conceived! Japanese design has influenced my life since I was a child…so here I am, still a child riding bikes, living design in every moment but just a bit older!
Cycling is now my life. It has taken me to places I never imagined I would go, and introduced me to people who have inspired me, nourished me and changed the way I see the world. Woven through it all is my love of design. For me, cycling and design go hand in hand — both are about looking more closely, noticing the details and finding beauty in the unexpected. Every small village, every beautifully designed package on a supermarket shelf, every amazing beer can label, every tiny gift carefully presented by a Japanese friend. These are the things I notice, the things I remember, and the things that continue to draw me back.
The Setouchi By Design Tour in May 2027 feels like the coming together of three threads that have woven their way through my life: Motoko’s legacy, my years studying design, and my absolute love of riding bikes. For years, friends have told me I needed to bring together my love of design, cycling and Japan. And finally, I am.
This tour has grown from the places that have stopped me in my tracks, made me curious, or stayed with me long after I’ve left. It’s about far more than graphic design. It’s architecture, revitalisation, history and culture; the thoughtful details and quiet beauty that seem to be woven into everyday life in Japan. And now I get to share those places from the saddle—which somehow feels like exactly where all those threads were meant to meet.
Perhaps, in some small way, this tour is my way of returning to that dinner table all those years ago. To the mysterious woman from Hiroshima who unknowingly opened a door to a world that an eight-year-old girl could never have imagined would become such a huge part of her life. I sometimes wonder what Motoko would think if she could see me now, riding the quiet roads of the Seto Inland Sea, her home, still looking at Japan with that same wide-eyed curiosity. Still noticing the details. Still wanting to understand. Still completely captivated. Still so foreign.
Setouchi By Design is more than a cycling tour for me. It’s a story that began with Motoko. And in May 2027, I finally get to share it…arigatou Motoko san!
導いてくれてありがとう! (Thank you for guiding me!)
NOTE: Sadly, there seem to be no photographs of Motoko. I’ve asked my family, and how I wish there were. But recently, while driving through Hiroshima, I passed a sign pointing towards a town called Hirahara. I couldn’t help but wonder… was that where Motoko came from? Was that once her home?
NOTE: Places limted for the Setouchi By Design Tour...it's almost full!
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