I first encountered the Moomins while I was in Japan, and I have to admit, I didn't like them at all. It wasn't a reflection on the brand itself; rather, it was my reaction to the Kawaii culture that surrounded me. After being inundated with a style akin to Avril Lavigne’s Hello Kitty, I found myself growing increasingly disillusioned with the whole cultural aesthetic. However, my perspective shifted thanks to two incredible people. First, there’s Syosyo, who has a deep passion for vintage toys and intellectual properties. She took me to themed cafés and antique toy shops, where she would enthusiastically explain the significance of these items over tea. Her fascination was infectious and sparked a curiosity in me. The second person was my professor at Hamabi, Ms. Miyasaki. Despite her sweet demeanor, she was also one of the most straightforward and impactful individuals I've ever met. She encouraged me to give the Moomins a fair chance and to explore Tove Jansson's unique style as a foundation for developing a simple yet beautifully decorated style for my own projects. How could I resist the charm of someone so endearing? The first Moomin strip I read tackled themes of suicide, and I was immediately captivated by Tove Jansson’s work. Her blend of sensitivity and humor was surprising, and her brutal honesty was refreshing. Jansson’s comics address complex themes like depression, anxiety, and sexuality with kindness and nuance. Her characters are neither purely good nor purely bad; they are simply flawed, much like she was in her own life. Open about her attraction to both men and women, she didn’t seek to be a symbol or a martyr—she was just authentically herself, encompassing both kindness and imperfection.