Project Info

ClientMagipik Studio

Year2025

RoleConcept & Design Director

CategoryPackaging

Tet in Hanoi these days isn’t marked by the crackling sound of firecrackers, nor does it sparkle with dazzling festive lights like in books and photographs. Instead, it comes quietly, tenderly, through the simplest of things. The Tet atmosphere seeps in from early morning, when the sunlight still lingers dreamily on the tiled rooftops, and the spring breeze gently brushes past the tangled web of electric wires swaying overhead in rhythm with the time of the small street. At the coffee stall at the alley’s entrance, only a few old red plastic chairs with peeling paint are set out, yet every morning it’s filled with voices. A glass of iced milk coffee placed on a chair, with the little aluminum drip filter ticking away, sounds just as cheerful as Tet music. Motorbike taxi drivers sit smoking and chatting, vendors busy setting up their Tet stalls, while the children excitedly call each other to the flower market. As the afternoon falls and the sky tilts like a sleepy person, the men gather again on the pavement to clink glasses. The beer isn’t very cold, the snacks are modest — just a few slices of bánh chưng, some dried beef, or roasted peanuts. But the joy is abundant, the laughter rings loud, and the warmth of human connection seems to be gently dried under the spring sun — warm and sincere. For me, Tet isn’t found in grand gestures. It’s in the old utility poles, the worn plastic chairs, the quiet coffee cups, the peach blossoms leaning in the sunlight, and the cheerful “cheers!” of the first days of the year on the breezy pavement. These are the little things I carry in my heart all year long.