Designed for Use: Living With Sori Yanagi
When I first started living on my own, I quietly took a few basic things from my mom’s kitchen — a knife, a bowl, small everyday pieces that felt familiar. (Like many young people do, no?)
In my twenties, this Sori Yanagi milk pan became the first piece of kitchenware I bought for myself. I found it at my favorite home goods store in Kyoto — a shop I still visit every time I go back home. I remember picking it up, noticing the curve of the spout and the balance in my hand. It felt simple, steady, right.
It has been over twenty years.
The surface now carries a soft patina, small marks from years of heating milk, making soup, reheating leftovers. The handle has a few melted spots. There are faint scars from the times I burned what I was cooking (ah, too many times…). It has aged with me.
Over time, its thoughtful design revealed itself in use, and somewhere along the way, it quietly became mine.
Who Is Sori Yanagi?
The milk pan was designed by Sori Yanagi (1915–2011), one of Japan’s most influential industrial designers.
Born in Tokyo, he was the son of Soetsu Yanagi, who founded the Mingei (folk craft) movement — a philosophy that celebrated the beauty of honest, everyday objects made for use. Growing up surrounded by artists and craftsmen, Sori Yanagi developed a deep respect for objects that serve daily life.
At the same time, he was deeply engaged with modern design. He studied under Charlotte Perriand and became one of the first designers in Japan to thoughtfully bridge traditional craft values with industrial production.
His works range from furniture to public seating to the well-known Butterfly Stool, now part of the permanent collection at MoMA.
For Sori Yanagi, design did not begin with appearance. It began with use.
He believed that beauty emerges naturally when an object fulfills its purpose honestly and completely. Rather than sketching dramatic shapes, he worked through physical models — touching, adjusting, testing again and again. Especially with kitchenware, he would pour water repeatedly, refining curves until the flow felt effortless and natural.
There is a softness to his forms. Even in stainless steel, nothing feels harsh or rigid. Edges curve gently. Handles sit comfortably in the hand. Bowls stack with quiet precision. The design rarely calls attention to itself.
This approach reflects both his modernist training and the influence of the Mingei philosophy he grew up around — the belief that everyday objects, made for daily life, carry a quiet dignity. They are not meant to impress. They are meant to serve.
Perhaps that is why his pieces feel so enduring. They do not follow trends. They are shaped by function, tested by use, and refined until nothing unnecessary remains.
And when you live with them long enough, you begin to notice — not how beautiful they look on a shelf, but how naturally they fit into your hands and routines.
Living With His Designs
Over the years, I’ve gradually added more pieces of Sori Yanagi into my kitchen.
The Yanagi collection is extensive — what we carry at okappa is only a small part of it. The pieces here are the ones used in my daily life, the ones that have quietly proven themselves over time.
These stainless steel bowls and punched strainers are part of Sori Yanagi’s long-standing kitchenware line. I’ve owned other stainless steel bowls and strainers before. They were perfectly fine. They did what they were supposed to do. And yet, when I had both options in front of me, I found myself reaching for the Yanagi pieces without thinking. There was something about the balance, the weight, the way they moved in my hands that simply felt more resolved.
Eventually, the difference became practical, too. Some of my old mesh strainers began to wear out — tiny holes appearing in the wire. One even caught my finger. That was when I let them go.
Yanagi’s punched stainless steel strainers feel entirely different. They are solid and durable, easy to clean, easy to dry. They don’t fray, and they don’t trap residue in hidden corners. They are straightforward, but thoughtfully so.
The bowls, too, may look unassuming at first glance, but each size is subtly shaped with intention. The largest opens slightly wider toward the rim, making it especially good for washing leafy vegetables or serving salads. The next size down has tall, rounded sides that contain movement beautifully when whisking eggs or cream. The rims are gently curled — comfortable in the hand — yet designed so that residue doesn’t collect along the edge.
Nothing about them is dramatic. Nothing tries to stand out. And yet, every curve reveals itself through use.
All of these stainless steel pieces are made in Tsubame-Sanjo, a region in Niigata Prefecture long known for producing some of Japan’s finest metalwork and stainless steel kitchenware. It is also where many of the stainless steel items I carry at okappa are made. There is a quiet confidence that comes from that place — generations of skill shaped into objects meant to be used every day.
Why Sori Yanagi Belongs at okappa
They work — quietly, reliably, beautifully — in the rhythm of daily life.
That is also how I think about okappa.
The objects I choose for the shop are not meant to impress at first glance. They are meant to be used. To be held. To become part of someone’s kitchen routine. To gather marks and memories over time.
Sori Yanagi’s designs embody that same philosophy. Nothing is excessive. Nothing is decorative for its own sake. Every curve has a purpose, and that purpose reveals itself slowly, through repetition.
My milk pan has been with me for over twenty years. It carries signs of my mistakes, my meals, my seasons of life. And still, it continues to do its job without complaint.
That quiet durability — that thoughtful design revealed through use — is exactly why his work feels at home here.
You can explore the Sori Yanagi collection at okappa here → Sori Yanagi Collection
