Tattooing Your Traveler’s Notebook: Leather Emboss (A Personal Story)

If you’ve ever met me or followed my Traveler’s Notebook journey, you know I’m a little obsessed with making things personal. My notebooks aren’t just tools—they’re companions, each one carrying a bit of my story, quirks, and, honestly, a few bruises along the way. This is the first in a series about how I “tattoo” my leather covers, and today, I’m getting personal about leather embossing.

I was determined to put scratches on people's leather cover :)

Embracing Imperfections

When Traveler’s Notebook first took off, most people wanted their covers pristine—shiny, untouched, almost like they were afraid to leave a mark. Not me. I want my notebook to age with me, to wear its wrinkles and stains with pride. It’s like aging gracefully: every scuff is a memory, every crease a story.

The First Kingsley Machine—And the Man Behind the Brand

Long before Traveler’s Notebook became a brand, I got to know Iijima-san, the founder. So, when I visited the Traveler’s Factory in Nakameguro, it wasn’t my first time meeting him. That day, he introduced me to a vintage leather embossing machine sitting quietly in the store. It was beautiful—a real piece of history—and I was instantly hooked.

The Battle With Bureaucracy: ROI, eBay, and a Leap of Faith

Back in Hong Kong, I started researching embossing machines and stumbled onto the Kingsley Machine Co.—their machines are tiny, gorgeous, and full of character. As a Stationery Buyer, I thought, “Why not bring this to our stores?” I pitched the idea, but the questions came flying—not just from my director boss, but from the accounting department and anyone else who could think of a reason to hesitate:

• “What’s the ROI?”

• “Is eBay safe?”

• “Can the seller issue an official invoice?”

• “Who’s going to operate this thing?”

• “Are we charging for the service?”

My director boss was skeptical, but to his credit, he didn’t shut it down completely. Still, I could see that the bureaucracy monster was looming, ready to swallow my idea whole.

My very personal Kingsley Machine

So I did what any stubborn, slightly rebellious creative would do—I bought the Kingsley machine myself. No official invoice, no ROI spreadsheets, just pure passion. When it arrived, I was delighted to discover it was made the same year I was born. It felt like fate. Later, my boss and I had a good laugh about my “rogue” purchase—sometimes you have to break a few rules to make something special happen.

Why Embossing? Why Not Pyrography or Hand Stamping?

While pyrography and hand stamping are both beautiful ways to personalize leather, they’re much more freehand and hard to control—especially for colleagues who may not have a steady hand or much experience. The Kingsley machine, on the other hand, is systematic, repeatable, and produces a professional finish that anyone can learn with a bit of practice. That’s why it became my go-to tool for both personal projects and community events.

The Magic of Community: Customers, Colleagues, and Connections

Once I got the hang of the Kingsley, I began sharing my embossing experiments on Instagram. The response was overwhelming—people wanted their own notebooks embossed. That’s when the real fun began. I started hauling the (very heavy!) machine to store events—Back to School, Travel Photo Cafe, you name it. I’d set up a little table, start embossing, and before long, a crowd would gather.

city'super cooking classroom in Shanghai IFC, where I hosted embossing workshops

Customers would come up with all sorts of requests—initials, favorite quotes, mysterious single letters, or even odd locations on the cover. Sometimes they had no idea what to stamp and would ask for suggestions. Every session was different, every interaction a chance to connect.

What made it even more rewarding was working alongside my colleagues. I happily trained our front line staff, and it was amazing to see their satisfaction grow as they helped customers create something unique. We weren’t just selling notebooks—we were building a community, one embossed cover at a time.

Eventually, the company saw the value and invested in more machines. Our team became a little army of craftsmen, helping thousands of customers create something truly personal. The best part? The shared joy—among customers, colleagues, and yes, even the skeptics in management.

Next time, I’ll share how acrylic painting can add even more personality to your Traveler’s Notebook. Stay tuned for more stories, tips, and a few more battles with bureaucracy!