Greetings and salutations Hivers. Today I want to look at another small but mighty pen from Japan. Another one 
A while back I wrote about my Pilot Short. That pen felt like a clever solution to a problem: how do you make a full-length fountain pen that disappears into a shirt pocket? If you missed it, go read that post.
The Elite answers that question more elegantly. No shade on the Short, which is an amazing pen, but the idea of a pocket pen was much refined for this model.
This one is a vintage Pilot Elite from 1974. It was so popular that they continue to make it to this day. The new ones are pretty nice, but these old models have a nib much softer than the current ones, making it mroe desirable for me. Anyway, that makes this one fifty-two years old. Older than me. And still writing like a dream.
Capped
Uncapped
As you can see, when capped, it is tiny. Truly pocketable. It looks almost toy-like at first glance. But when you post the cap, it transforms into a perfectly balanced, full-length writing instrument.
That transformation never stops being satisfying. What is really satifying is how smooth it is both to uncap and to cap. It’s almost like drawing a samurai sword.[1]
A Child of the 1970s
The 1970s were the golden age of Japanese pocket pens. Sailor, Platinum, and Pilot were all competing to create compact pens for students and salarymen. A pen that could live in a shirt pocket without stabbing you, leaking, or looking ridiculous.
Pilot’s answer was the Elite. If you do some research, you will see that Sailor’s and Platinum’s offerings all eventually looked exactly the same as the Elite. I’m not sure who was copying whom, but they all knew a good design when it came around. While all are nice, I prefer the Pilot model because of how they tune their nibs and just ebcause I like the company better.
This model I have carries the clean lines typical of that era. Slim. Minimal branding (which I love). A long, tapering nib that almost looks aerodynamic. The section flows seamlessly into the nib in a way modern pens rarely attempt.
The clip is also perfect. Unlike most clips that rely on the metal giving just enough to get it over the fabric of your breast pocket, this one is hinged, making it both child’s play to put over some fabric and ensuring it won’t be damaged by constant tension.
And an 18k gold nib. And yea, 18k. My pals in #silvergoldstackers might be interested.
The Nib
If the body is understated, the nib is not.
The nib on my 1974 Elite is soft in a way that modern steel nib users may not expect. Not flex, exactly. But springy. A subtle responsiveness that makes even quick note-taking feel alive.
Now that’s not for beginner. There is a reason modern Pilot nibs are not soft like this. If you press down when writing too much, you will damage the nib. It takes a light hand to use. But if you have that light hand, this is one of the best you will ever use.
Compared to my 823 (which I wrote about here), it feels more intimate. Less grand but more personal. Like a pen designed for letters and lecture notes rather than signing treaties.
Build Quality
The body is lightweight plastic, yes. But this is 1970s Japanese plastic. It has survived half a century without cracking, warping, or discoloring.
These days you can get cheap Chinese fountain pens from Aliexpress or Temu that clone almost any high end pen you can think of. They look nice, but many will any look this good in 2076?
I often use this during my teaching. It works quickly and well every time.
Some comparison photos. I put it against my Pilot 823 and my Pilot Short, since I already wrote about those two here.
Capped - see how much shorter then two pocket pens are.
Uncapped - even shorter!
The two pocket pens posted. Suddenly they are both longer than the full-sized pen.
Why It Still Matters
As mentioned above, Pilot still sells an Elite — rebranded as the E95S outside of Japan. It’s a fine pen, but holding a 1974 original feels different.
This pen has already lived a life. It may have taken notes in a Japanese university classroom. Signed company documents during the bubble years when Japan was rich and on top of the world. Written letters long before email made that obsolete.
Now it lives with me. There’s continuity there. A quiet line stretching from 1970s Japan to my desk today.
And that, more than anything, is why I like it. Not because it’s rare. Not because it’s valuable.[2] But because it works. Still, 52 years later. Perfectly.
Final Thoughts
The Pilot Elite pocket pen represents something I value more and more as I get older: intelligent design.
Small but yet cleverly full size, practical, durable. And made with a quality that is timeless, allowing it to write beautifully.
It’s a design that is so good that the company has left it alone. No constant “innovation”, no yearly redesign, no artificial scarcity. Just a tool that does its job for fifty years.
If that isn’t quality, I don’t know what is.
❦
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David is an American teacher and translator lost in Japan, trying to capture the beauty of this country one photo at a time and searching for the perfect haiku. He blogs here and at laspina.org. Write him on Bluesky. |