Mahjong Tissue Boxes - Set of 4

Crack Bam Dot. The suits are the first vocabulary any player learns. Characters, bamboo, circles, shortened over decades of American play into three syllables that sound like a chant. We set them in a layered display face borrowed from 1970s club signage, the kind that stacked its own shadow in two colors so it read from across a room.

Mahj Mahj Mahj. Nobody says it once. It is the text that goes out on a Tuesday, the answer to what are you doing tonight, the word repeated down a group thread until four people have said yes. We drew it the way it sounds. Three lines, same word, in a nested outline face that repeats itself inside every letter.

Joker's Wild. Every table has a rhythm that has nothing to do with the tiles. Somebody arrives early. Somebody brings the good glasses. The game is the reason, and the afternoon is the point. So we drew the tiles as the day itself, in the desert palette the game travels in.

Tile Toss. The best sound in the game is the wash. Hands flat on the table, tiles going everywhere, four people talking over the noise. We drew that instead of the neat rack. The suits are traditional, red and green and blue as they have been for a century, with pink added because the palette has an opinion.