Planner season is not synonymous with the New Year. That’s much too late for planner people to be figuring out what systems to use in the forthcoming year. Planner season begins in late summer and culminates with the biggest event of the year for the journaling community—the day Hobonichi planners go on sale at 10 p.m. EST on August 31. I look forward to it each year, as Hobonichi generates hype around the niche holiday by unveiling its new covers and books in the lead-up to its big release. Other planner brands start to announce their lineups around this time, too. This year is different.
As 404 Media wrote in August, the Trump administration’s tariff plans have made having hobbies both chaotic and expensive. That includes stationary and planners—the Hobonichi launch for U.S. customers was obscured by the dark cloud of tariffs. Stationary, like other goods produced outside the U.S., are impacted by both Trump’s sweeping tariffs and the end of a tax loophole that exempted packages $800 or less from import fees. The official Hobonichi store ships its stationary goods directly from Japan to customers in the U.S.; it’s always been kind of expensive to do so, but this year, the added fees tipped the scales for some people—including me.
Created by Shigesato Itoi (who started the Mother series), Hobonichi planners are cult favorites among stationary enthusiasts; the bible-thin paper is perfect for fountain pens but keeps the robust planner fairly compact. There’s a lot of room for creativity, which is the planner’s biggest strength: People can tweak their setups to make the planner work for all sorts of scheduling and planning.
There are several different books and sizes to choose from, but each year, Hobonichi debuts a new set of accessories and covers to go alongside the planner. That’s where a lot of the excitement comes in—the covers are works of art on their own, and the limited edition nature of the release oozes FOMO. Hobonichi diehards, like me, line up in virtual queues every year for the chance to snag some prized cover that’ll perfect our planner setups for the following year. Planner season has its faults—that aforementioned FOMO leads to undeniable overconsumption of stationary goods that may even go unused—but it’s been, largely, a brief moment of joy where I can connect with fellow paper nerds to speak passionately about the superiority of Tomoe River paper, which Hobonichi uses.
I’ve ordered from Hobonichi for the past several years, but the last order I can find in my email is from 2021, where I ordered two Hobonichi planners (a Weeks planner to carry around with me, and an A6-sized book to keep at my desk) and a couple other accessories. The total was roughly $80, plus an additional $25 for shipping, which brought the total to $109. This year, I added a single A6-sized planner with an exceptionally cute Tamagotchi-themed cover to my cart. The planner, called a Techo, retails at Hobonichi for $54. The shipping—which includes “prepayment of duties and taxes”—added $44 to that total, plus an additional $8.10 for “duties and fees,” then the sales tax of $6.22, bringing the total price of a single planner to $112.32. I tried to see if things were any better with a smaller Weeks planner, which is $29 at the Hobonichi store. That brought my total to under $100, but the shipping was more than the cost of the planner itself. I just can’t justify it.
It’s hard to even tell if extra levies will be piled on when something gets into the U.S., too. The global nature of the stationary business, with products made in China, Japan, and assembled elsewhere, means that tariffs apply in complicated ways. Japan’s reciprocal tariff rate is 15%. China’s remains ever in flux, currently at 30%. There’s a lot going on.
The good news is that there are U.S. based retailers that are selling Hobonichi products. But because these retailers need to recoup the costs of the tariffs they spent to bring over the goods, the prices are indeed higher than at the Hobonichi store: The same Hobonichi that costs $54 at the official store costs $77 elsewhere.
Another side effect of the tariffs is that the removal of the de minimis exemption and additional tariffs means that importing goods is simply more complicated. There’s more paperwork and all packages have to clear customs, which is causing delays. At least two small businesses planning in-person Hobonichi events, The Paper Mouse in Massachusetts and Yoseka Stationary in New York, had to cancel events when their Hobonichi shipments got caught up in customs.
I ultimately decided not to purchase a Hobonichi planner for 2026. Should that decision hold, it’ll be the first time in nearly five years that I don’t plan my days, weeks, and months in the planner system. I might change my mind if I can find a reasonable price. I’m holding out for an update on another planner system I like, Take A Note, to announce its 2026 planners—something scheduled for mid to late September. (Take A Note ships from Taiwan, using Japanese paper, so I’m certain it’ll be impacted by tariffs, too.)
For now, I’m simply not buying stationary. The thing about this hobby is that there is so much to consume, so many different colorful and shiny things that always feel absolutely necessary; I’ve collected a lot of it. I’m using this tariff chaos to dig into my already too big supply and use up the stash. I’m plucking out stickers I forgot I had to slap into half-filled notebooks; re-wetting the dried up paints I left sitting too long in my closet; and inking up the pens I’ve once dubbed too nice to use. That’s the point of it all, no? The hobby inspires in me the desire to hoard, but I’d like to change that, so when I do, indeed, get my 2026 planner, I’ll appreciate it even more.
