The Mythic Ball, Part 4: Kitsune’s (Japanese Fox Spirit) Wa-Lolita Dress

A knee-length teal green dress with a fox mask and nine fox tails fanning out from underneath the skirt. The mask and tails are in a golden brown color with white accents. The dress has Japanese touches, with a subtle rice sheaf pattern woven into the fabric and dyed red, orange and yellow maple leaves arranged on the skirt and on the sleeves, with a couple at the shoulders. On the skirt and sleeves, they look as if they're falling, with a few near the top of the sleeves and skirt and most at the hem or the base. The sleeve isn't sewn at the sides, but is rather tied with a yellow bow underneath the wrist, and the lining of the fabric is bright red. The collar is folded over on one side and is edged with a wide black field, then a smaller white collar near the neck is lined with a row of black lace. There's a black obi, or wide belt, with a pattern of golden leaves and abstract flowers, with a red obi sash puffed out over the top. The obi sash is decorated with a pattern of tie-dyed dots creating diamond shapes. Around the obi is a silver cord, on which is mounted a shining blue fire-shaped jewel. Although the top part of the dress mostly looks like a traditional kimono, the skirt is full and knee-length, puffing out to the sides in an exaggerated way, as if there's a crinoline underneath it. There are four rows of sea-green silk with a subtle interlocking circle pattern on them, arranged so that they drape in overlapping ruffles from the obi to the hem of the skirt. They're edged with black lace. The skirt is also edged with black lace, and there's a bright red petticoat visible underneath the skirt. The black stockings and black boots are mostly covered by the fox tails.Kitsune, a Japanese fox spirit known for shapeshifting, cleverness and a love of deep-fried tofu, has enjoyed such tremendous, enduring popularity in her home country that she has long reigned unofficially over the little clique of Japanese archetypes. The recent rise in popularity of anime, manga and Japanese culture in other parts of the world has raised her stature, and she’s spending more and more time outside of her little group of monsters and ghosts. This has caused somewhat of a re-evaluation of her persona, as she would like to impress the big shots of the English-speaking world — the ones with the near-lock on Hollywood movies. Kitsune would quite like a movie or two. The first one doesn’t have to win an Oscar; she’s not picky. She’s thinking rom-com, at least to start with.

She always used to wear kimono to the ball, thinking that they make her look more refined and more in touch with her roots than the foreign archetypes in their showy gowns, but in recent years she’s tried out some masquerade dresses herself. The other archetypes in her old clique, who haven’t enjoyed quite the same popularity, felt threatened by this. Last year Kappa (another Japanese archetype) picked a big fight with her, mocking her Western-style gowns and accusing her of feeling superior to the rest of them. (Kappa has never quite recovered from reading the Harry Potter books; she was thrilled to hear that kappas were mentioned in one, and absolutely crushed when she found out that Professor Snape claimed that kappas were found in Mongolia.)

She doesn’t want to lose their good will, but she was really rather enjoying her forays into the world of fancy dress, so this year she opted for a daring new look: a wa-lolita dress. (Wa-lolita is a subset of a Japanese fashion subculture called “lolita” which emphasizes frilly, hyper-feminine clothes based on fairy-tale Victorian styles. Wa-lolita makes use of Japanese design elements like wide obi-style belts, kimono sleeves and Japanese patterns. To see examples of lolita and wa-lolita outfits, check out my Pinterest “Lolita style” board.)

Kappa, Oni and the others still think she’s putting on airs, but somehow it’s not quite as galling as seeing her in a knockoff of whatever Dragon wore last year. They’ll forgive her, Kitsune thinks, when she gets her rom-com and gives them all parts in it. (Little parts, of course.)

A couple little cultural notes about the dress! The blue ornament over the obi is a kitsune-bi (狐火), which are mysterious lights said to be associated with kitsune. The color of the fur is “kitsune-iro” (きつね色), or “fox color” — an actual color word in Japanese, often used to refer to things like the color of nicely cooked bread. The leaf pattern is based on Japanese maple leaves, “momiji” (紅葉); you don’t have to be a Japanese studies major to guess that it’s a fall-themed design element. Also, the fur brush I used was created by CoyoteMange and is extremely useful even for a fur beginner like me!

Next week will be our final guest at the Mythic Ball, Phoenix, and an opportunity to vote on this year’s Queen of the Mythic Ball. In the meantime, you can download combined color and black and white PDFs of all of my 2014 dolls and outfits for free! Also follow me on Facebook, Twitter or Pinterest for sneak previews, paperdoll thoughts and the occasional lolita dress. If you enjoy my work, I’d also appreciate your support through Patreon.

Meiko’s Hakama and Kimono Set from Gochisousan with Strawberry Embroidery

A kimono and hakama set with black leather boots. The kimono is white with a small geometrical design of purple arrowheads, and the inner collar is pink with strawberries, strawberry leaves and strawberry flowers embroidered on it. The obi is red with white asanoha, or geometrical star patterns on it, and it is mostly covered by the ties of the hakama. The hakama are a pair of reddish-purple pants with very wide legs, pleated at the front so that they look more like a skirt. It is worn slightly above the waist, and ties in the front. The bow droops down, and the ends of the ties extend towards the knees. There is a reddish-purple hairbow to go with the ensemble.Today’s drawing was inspired by one of the most popular dramas currently running on Japanese TV, “Gochisōsan,” which means something like “thank you for the meal” and is said after eating. It follows the life of Meiko Uno, a girl born in the early 1900s who is brash, big-hearted and a huge fan of food. The word used in Japanese is 食いしん坊, kuishinbō; English approximations might be “foodie” or “glutton” but the first is too serious and the second too severe. “Kuishinbō” is more like a lightly teasing word for someone who’s really into eating. Meiko reminds me very much of Anne of Green Gables, as she’s always getting into scrapes, but even though she can be careless and selfish, she has a warm, loving personality and always wants to make things better for the people she loves. Her love of food and her desire to share that love is the major theme of the show. Her family runs a French restaurant called Kaimeiken that becomes a pioneer of Japanese-Western fusion cuisine, all the chapter titles are food-related puns and many of Meiko’s problems and their solutions happen to be related to food. For those of us interested in Japanese food and its history, it’s full of fun details. For example, Meiko, a Tokyo native, later moves to another city called Osaka, where she unknowingly causes discomfort by making rice balls with the wrong shape: she is used to making them in a triangle shape, but at that point in time in Osaka, triangle-shaped rice balls are only used for funeral offerings. (It’s not a distinction anyone makes anymore, so please don’t get creeped out when you see triangle-shaped rice balls in your favorite anime.) The show follows her life from her childhood to her time as a high school student, then to her time as a young bride and, later, a mother of three. It is what’s known as a morning drama, and it runs every weekday morning for 15 minutes.

This drawing is of a kimono and hakama set worn with boots, which is what Meiko and her friends wear as young women when they’re attending the same high school. Hakama, which are the reddish-purple pants tied at the waist, were traditionally a garment only worn by men, but in the Meiji era, which was a time of quick modernization for Japan, women involved in education and similar activities done outside the home started to wear them as well. This served to lend their outfits a masculine, serious air. This combination of kimono and hakama became so identified with female students that today, it’s worn as formal wear at graduations. The modern day version tends to be more flashy and richly patterned, but this drawing is based on what Meiko wore as her daily uniform, with hakama that are all one color and a plain arrow pattern woven into the kimono fabric. This arrow pattern, too, is so heavily associated with Meiji and Taisho-era female students as to be a cliché, and one of the kimono Meiko wears has a pattern that’s almost identical.

In the first few episodes of the show, which show Meiko as a young girl, she and her friends steal an offering of strawberries from the neighborhood Buddhist temple. At the time strawberries weren’t widely grown in Japan, so to them, the bright red berries were a new and exotic sight. Meiko, with her deep appreciation of flavor, falls in love with the sweet and tangy taste and becomes preoccupied with finding some to give to her sick grandmother. That’s why, for this drawing, I put a little strawberry pattern on the collar.

There’s a group (of one person) subtitling these; you can download the subtitles at their website. They also have written up some very useful commentary notes for some of the weeks they’ve subtitled. I don’t watch the show with English subtitles, so I can’t do tech support – you’ll be better off by looking for information at the Drama Addicts forum or finding a site where they’ve been uploaded. looks fine but I don’t know anything about it. I watch it in Japanese with Japanese subtitles using an iPad app, J-Drama Master, and I understand maybe 80% of it, but that last 20% is all the most important stuff, so when there’s a very technical or emotionally intense scene I often wind up thinking “Hey, wait, what?”

There’s a contest going on! In the poll I did over Twitter, ancient Greek fashions won handily, with 8 votes, over a fairy dress (3 votes) or a 1930s dress (0 votes). So I have been reading all about ancient Greek fashions and setting up a Pinterest board, and I’ve sketched a Greek outfit for the winner of the next poll to tell me how to color. If you use Twitter, follow me, then vote by replying to @lianapaperdolls with your favorite Greek god or goddess. (Having the contests on Facebook and Twitter was an experiment, and I ended up not liking the feeling that I was excluding people. So all further contests are going to be on this blog.)

Next week, there’ll be a new doll! That’s right, Mia is going to get a friend, and I intend for her to be the first of many. I’ll be opening voting up on her name as well, so watch my various social media spaces if you want to join in! You can follow me on Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest for update notifications, previews of upcoming dresses, paper doll musings and pictures of sparkly clothes. If you enjoy my work, I’d also appreciate your support through Patreon.

Iris-Colored (ayame-iro) Iromuji Kimono with Gold Obi

An unpatterned purple-red kimono, with a white collar embroidered with purple and yellow flowers. The obi (the wide belt worn over the stomach) is made of vine-patterned golden cloth, and on it is an image of a Japanese court lady with long, straight black hair and multicolored, layered robes, facing away from the viewer and holding up a fan. Tied around the middle of the obi is a thin, violet-blue cord (the obijime), decorated with a piece of jewelry depicting an iris and two cattails, and peeking above the obi is a a thin layer of bright lime-green fabric (the obiage). The ensemble is finished with a pair of black and purple zori (formal Japanese sandals) and white tabi (split-toed socks).Click for larger version (PNG); click for PDF version. Click here for the list of dolls.

As I wrote back in February, when I drew a poppy red kimono and treated you to stories of red dye made out of mythical creature blood, I have been learning about Japanese color words from a couple of books, Kimono and the Colors of Japan: The Kimono Collection of Katsumi Yumioka and 日本の伝統色 The Traditional Colors of Japan. (More for my own amusement than for any practical purpose, as usual.) This is the second post in the series; I asked you (or rather, my readers in February) to choose the next color and Salvia Blue seemed to be the next winner but at the last minute Iris pulled ahead.

Iris (菖蒲色, ayame-iro) is a literal color name: the word 菖蒲 (ayame) means “iris,” so paired with the kanji for “color,” 色 (iro), the name really is “iris-color.” To be specific, ayame refers to one type of iris that grows in Japan, althouh there are two other common types as well, the 花菖蒲 (hanashōbu) and the 杜若 (kakitsubata), both of which have their own symbolic meanings; the situation isn’t helped by the fact that the words have apparently shifted over time, so that the fragrant ayame beloved by aristocrats a thousand years ago isn’t actually the ayame Japanese people know today. (For more on this shift, read this chapter from Liza Dalby’s memoir: bitter herb grows tall.) Nor is it helped by the fact that the same kanji, 菖蒲, can also be read shōbu — which is both another kind of iris and a shortened form of 花菖蒲 (hanashōbu). This iris-related confusion even prompted a proverb, いずれ菖蒲か杜若 (izure ayame ka kakitsubata), which literally means “Either the ayame or the kakitsubata“; the meaning is something like, “Both of these things are so overwhelmingly beautiful that there’s no point in trying to compare or differentiate between them.” It seems to be rather old-fashioned, and most often applied to pretty women or girls. “Which of those two sisters is more beautiful?” “Well, it’s like the ayame and the kakitsubata.” (For more information: Origami Volume 6: Iris (in English), いずれ菖蒲か杜若 (in Japanese), and a great deal of discussion on Twitter in Japanese with my friend Arietty I can dig up for anyone who’s really interested.)

Ayame-iro is a lovely rich, warm purple with reddish undertones. According to The Traditional Colors of Japan, the hex code for ayame-iro is #6F3381. The Prismacolor Digital Color Coordinator says that the closest single Prismacolor pencil is Mahogany Red, which shows the limits of the tool because that one is far too red. I’m seeing Dark Purple as being closer, but I think it is just a shade too red as well. Dark Purple over a light backing of of Violet is, I think, about right. Interestingly, some sources make a distinction between 菖蒲色 (ayame-iro) and 菖蒲色 (shōbu-iro). For example, this page lists shōbu-iro as a darker purple and ayame-iro as a light lilac.

According to “The Iris Garden at Horikiri,” at the time that article was written (1903), irises were regarded as beautiful, but not particularly emblematic of womanly modesty and virtue, unlike other flowers such as plum blossoms; the name “Ayame” therefore was used by geisha more often than by other women. One of my Japanese friends thought it still might have some geisha-ish overtones, although the first word it reminded her of was the decidedly unauspicious, although unrelated 殺める (ayameru; to murder or to wound). Still, she could think of one kid she knew of with the name, so although it seems uncommon it’s not entirely unused.

There was a famous historical Ayame: Ayame no Mae (菖蒲前), a court lady during the late Heian period (the 1100s). One day, the famous warrior Minamoto no Yorimasa (源頼政) caught a glimpse of her and fell in love with her, but she turned away all her suitors, and for three years his poems and letters went unanswered. The situation came to the Emperor’s attention, and he tested Yorimasa’s love by having Lady Ayame and two other court ladies appear in front of him, all dressed alike. If Yorimasa could pick her out, he could have her. But in those days, noble women kept themselves hidden from men, and Yorimasa had never actually seen his beloved face-to-face. Completely at a loss, he replied with a poem:
(samidare ni / sawabe no makomo / mizu koete / izure ayame to / hikizo wazurau)

Now, in Yei Theodora Ozaki’s telling of the tale, the poem is translated “In the rainy season when the waters overflow the banks of the lake, who can gather the Iris?” “The rainy season” refers to Yorimasa’s three years of disappointment, and the waters the many tears he had shed, so many that he couldn’t see clearly enough to discern the true Lady Ayame; this response was so modest and admirable that the Emperor took Lady Ayame by the hand and gave her to Yorimasa personally. In the version Anne Dyer tells, it is translated as follows: “When the June rains flood the pond, how impossible it is to distinguish the beautiful Ayame from common reeds!” The real Lady Ayame was embarrassed by this response, and blushed, allowing Yorimasa to pick her out of the lineup!

Incidentally, I am really into the poetry-filled beauty of the Heian period, but when it starts getting into the Genpei War and the rise of the warrior class my eyes glaze over, because there are so many Yoshis and Yoris and Mitsus and Moris and Shiges all shooting arrows at each other that I can’t keep them straight. Now, if they all happen to have a distant connection with a color name, by the time I finish this series I will know all about them and I’ll be prepared to try to read the Tale of the Heike again.

The kanji 菖 just means “iris.” It seems like it is almost always used as part of the compound 菖蒲 and not on its own, and while it’s not one of the characters students officially learn in school, it is one of the characters that can be used in names. キラキラname, a baby name site, suggests girls’ names like 菖子, Shōko, or 菖花, Shōka; one of my friends pointed out that since the iris is connected with May in Japan, such a name might be an indication that its bearer was born in that month.

Now, 蒲 is a little more interesting; it means “cattail” and is used in a few other contexts aside from 菖蒲. It’s not one of the characters that students officially learn in school, but it can be used in names. I’ve only seen it in last names like 谷蒲 (Kabaya), though.

Nowadays, the word “futon,” if it’s written in kanji, is written 布団; the first character means “cloth.” (団, which usually means “group,” means “round” in this case, as the first futons were round. I guess that’s why 団栗 – donguri, acorn – and 団子 – dango, dumpling – have 団 in them too.) But they were originally made from cattails, and written 蒲団.

蒲 is also part of the kanji used for the word 蒲鉾 (kamaboko), which you may already know if you’re into Japanese food or bentos, although I don’t know if the kanji are in frequent use. Kamaboko is a type of loaf made out of pureed fish, and is sliced and used in dishes such as soup. It can be very pretty, too: in this picture of soup made for New Year’s, the red and white disc in the middle with 寿 (kotobuki, long life) on it and the white disc with the plum blossom on it at the bottom right hand side are both kamaboko. Its name comes from how it used to be prepared: the loaf was spiked on a bamboo skewer, making it look like a cattail.

We are really getting away from irises now, but humor me for a moment: there’s an old slang word, かまとと (kamatoto) that means someone – usually a woman – who’s skilled at feigning innocence. In this case, “kama” refers to “kamaboko,” and “toto” is baby-talk for “fish,” so imagine a girl purposely giving a guy a chance to feel superior and amused by asking him, wide-eyed, if kamaboko is really made out of little fishies. It’s from the Edo period, and it stuck around for quite some time, long enough to show up in books on Japanese written by American men who spent a lot of time in Japanese bars after WWII, but when I asked one of my friends about it, she reported that it was now a 死語 (shigo), or a “dead word” – that is, slang no one uses anymore. (At least, that’s what she said once she stopped laughing. I suppose it’s a rather risque word.)

The kimono for today is an iris-colored iromuji (single-color formal kimono). The gold obi has an aristocratic pattern of karakusa, or Chinese arabesque, and a motif of three court ladies, as a reference to the love story of Ayame and Yorimasa. (But only one shows up on the front – the other two are on the back of the obi. Do you think the one you can see is Ayame no Mae, or is she one of the other ladies?) The obidome – that is, the little bit of jewelry worn in the middle of the dark purple cord on the obi – is an iris and cattail pattern, as a reference to the kanji.

Now, I haven’t even started talking about a lot of Japanese iris symbolism and tradition, such as the connection to a famous story in the Tales of Ise, why the flower is connected with the yearly Boy’s Festival and other fun tangents. That’s OK, it just leaves the door open for an iris-patterned kimono at some point in the future!

Thanks to my friends Tsubasa, Arietty, Sloppie and paopao_zou3 for answering some of my iris questions!

The wisdom of the paperdoll hive mind has picked out a tremendously interesting color for me this time, so choose for me again from another randomly picked five:

Poppy Red (shōjōhi) Iromuji Kimono with Gold and White Obi

Click for larger version (PNG); click for PDF version. Click here for the list of dolls.

Before I start this very long entry, a quick reminder: the Oscar red carpet starts tomorrow at 7 PM EST. I’ll be livedolling – that is, drawing as many of the gowns in attendance as I can before my fingers drop off – and I hope you can join me in the comments section for discussing all the gowns and perhaps adding your own, if you like! Even if you don’t have a TV, you can join in: I can’t watch it live either, so when I’ve done this before I just kept reloading the Oscar-related pictures on Getty Images. It looks like it’ll be streamed online at AP Live, so I will be trying that, too. I may be able to break my record of three in one night, due to the time difference…

I’m fairly well versed in English color names – especially those of the 146 Prismacolors that I’ve been using for over a decade – but in Japanese, the closest I get to sophistication is popping the words for “dark” and “light” in front of the basic color words. To fix this, I thought that I could learn some obscure Japanese color words, which would both brighten up my impoverished vocabulary and provide an opportunity for some cute drawings.

I started with the book Kimono and the Colors of Japan: The Kimono Collection of Katsumi Yumioka, which is both in English and Japanese and has a paragraph of information on sixty traditional colors, with a gorgeous picture of a kimono to illustrate each one. I also picked up 日本の伝統色 The Traditional Colors of Japan for my birthday, which has a sentence in English about each color but is primarily written in Japanese and has information on 250 colors. It also gives CMYK, RGB and hex code values for each color, meaning I can figure out easily what the nearest Prismacolor shade is with the Prismacolor Digital Color Coordinator.

The first color in Kimono and the Colors of Japan is 猩々緋(shōjōhi), a warm, cheerful red with a touch of yellow and a hex code of #E83015. Both books translate this as “poppy red”, and conveniently, the Prismacolor color picker tells me that the closest Prismacolor equivalent to #E83015 is Poppy Red. To my eyes, it looks like it could be either Scarlet Lake or Poppy Red, and that Poppy Red is just a touch too orange, but I have a feeling they will not all be this easy, so for now I’m accepting the coincidence.

The color is produced with dye made from the female cochineal insect, and it first showed up in Japan during the Warring States Period (1467–1573), when thick woolen fabric dyed poppy red was first imported from Southeast Asia. Japan was at civil war at this time, and many feudal lords had their battle surcoats (陣羽織, jinbaori) made out of this material, because it was thought that the color protected the wearer from arrows or bullets. (For an example of these battle surcoats, look at this reproduction of Oda Nobunaga’s surcoat.)

Let’s break down the kanji in 猩々緋. On its own, 猩 means orangutan, and the Japanese word for orangutan used to be 猩々 (shōjō). That’s because the animal was named after the 猩々 (shōjō), a mythical Chinese creature or spirit that was said to live on the coasts and enjoy drinking. It was said to look like a human, or like a monkey with a human face, with brilliant red hair and a face red from drinking too much, and according to one account its blood was thought to be what lent the fabric its protective qualities. The shōjō is also a character in a Noh play, Shōjō Midare, and the actor wears a shaggy red wig, a red mask and red clothes. If you look 猩々 up in a dictionary, one of the definitions is “someone who loves to drink,” but when I asked some of my Japanese friends, that usage doesn’t seem very common these days, so it is just an interesting, random fact; don’t put the term into practice unless you happen to hang out with a bunch of Noh enthusiasts. Incidentally, it is not very clear if the color name was simply named after the creature, inspired by its representation in the Noh play, or if it gained that name specifically because the dye was said to be taken from the shōjō’s blood or hair: all of my sources have something different to say about the matter. (It seems like the story about the dye coming from the blood is pretty common, but it could have gained the name first, and the stories about the blood and its protective properties, later.) One story claims that leaving sake out on the beach will tempt them to try it, then get drunk and fall asleep; from there, it’s a simple matter to extract the blood needed for the dye.

Of course, it’s not in the official list of kanji that Japanese students have to learn (常用漢字, jōyō kanji), nor in the list of kanji that may be used in names (人名用漢字, jinmeiyō kanji), and it only shows up in a few other words, so a kanji like that does one little practical good. So all of this detail is great fun, in my opinion, but those of you out there learning Japanese, don’t trip all over yourselves to practice writing it. (If you actually want to write orangutan, 猩々 is way overkill – the word you would be looking for is オランウータン.)

The middle kanji, 々, just indicates that the previous kanji is repeated. That is, we could also write the color name as 猩猩緋.

The last one, 緋, is slightly more useful than 猩, as it is also seen in other colors such as 浅緋 (asahi, light scarlet). This kanji indicates a deep, bright red. It’s not on the list of kanji that are commonly used but it is on the list of kanji that may be used in names. It shows up in a couple of other colors in Kimono and the Colors of Japan, so we’ll remember that one.

For today’s kimono, I’ve done a poppy red iromuji (色無地), which is a formal, unpatterned, single-color kimono worn by both married and unmarried women. (I’ll write more about the various types of kimono in the future, but I have had this entry mostly written for some time, and I wanted to get on with it.) The obi is decorated with a stylized wave pattern (青海波, seigaha) in gold and white, plus a sake (Japanese rice wine) bottle and cups, as a reference to the shōjō; as a nod to the English name of the color, the obi-dome (帯留め), which is the piece of jewelry in the middle of the obi, is a poppy. (That would be ケシ, keshi, in Japanese. Incidentally, poppies seem to be rather rare motifs for Japanese textiles; they were introduced in the Muromachi period, so it’s not like the flower was unknown, but they don’t have symbolic significance that I’ve found; perhaps the connection with medicine or opium was too strong to make it a desirable decoration for a kimono?)

Besides Kimono and the Colors of Japan and 日本の伝統色 The Traditional Colors of Japan, I also referred to Symbols of Japan: Thematic Motifs in Art and Design, The Colors of Japan and Japanese Art Motives. The story about trapping shōjō with sake is from the 1912 “Scientific Temperance Journal.”

I’ve tried to stay away from relying on online sources, but the detail about shōjō blood being thought to have protective properties was too good to pass up, and is from this page. For further information (in Japanese), you can also look at,, and the Japanese Wikipedia page on 猩々緋. For you kanji fanatics out there, you can find all the details about and on Denshi Jisho.

Now, “poppy red” is the first color in Kimono and the Colors of Japan, but if I go in order all I’ll do is red, red, red, and I’ll get bored. I’ve picked five colors at random from the table of contents of Kimono and the Colors of Japan. Which should I do next?

Prismacolors used: Poppy Red, Crimson Lake, Tuscan Red, Cream, Sunburst Yellow, Yellow Ochre, Goldenrod, Bronze, Sepia, Apple Green, Chartreuse, Kelly Green, French Grey 10%, 20%, 50%, 70%, Black, Cool Grey 10%, Sakura Soufflé White Gel Pen