The Mah-jongg mania captivating California’s chicest circles includes Hollywood royalty
Words by KELSEY McKINNON
Illustration by ADOLFO CORREA
Do you mahj? To the uninitiated, the question registers as playful nonsense. But for those in the know, it’s a moment of recognition of a shared obsession, a secret handshake of sorts between tile whisperers. No longer a game reserved for Chinese and Jewish grandmothers, mah-jongg has become a standing appointment in the weekly calendars of younger players across the country, with a particular stronghold on the West Coast. Fueled by celebrity sound bites (Julia Roberts, Meghan Markle, and Mindy Kaling have been initiated), pop-culture cameos (remember that scene in Crazy Rich Asians?), and a booming cottage industry built around the tiles themselves (Oh My Mahjong reported selling a mah-jongg mat every 10 seconds in the U.S. in the fourth quarter of 2025), this exotic-sounding hobby has far outlived its pandemic-era resurgence. As more players pull up a chair to the table, the game is finding new life in the modern era.
The name mah-jongg is derived from the word for sparrow in some southern Chinese dialects. Apparently, the clacking sound the tiles make when they are shuffled and racked sounded like the chattering of birds to the Chinese men who developed the game in the 1800s. In the 1920s, an American businessman brought mah-jongg to the U.S., where the first imported sets sold out at Abercrombie & Fitch in New York City.
In 1937, a group of Jewish women in New York decided to standardize the game. They created the National Mah Jongg League, which is still the authoritative body for publishing the player’s yearly “Hands and Rules” card (which is released at the end of each March). Even in its 89th year, much of the organization remains a black box: The website looks like it was designed in the early 1990s, there is no email address, and they didn’t sell online until 2021 (before then business was done only through mail). A woman with a thick New York accent picks up the phone and dodges every question, confirming only that the organization is run by brothers Larry and David Unger, whose mother ran the organization for many years before her death in 2015.
If you didn’t learn the game on your bubbe’s lap as a child, you may need to call in an expert like Margie Messinger, a professional mah-jongg instructor, to make sense of all 152 tiles and the etiquette around the game. Messinger has taught at private homes and clubs on the West Side of L.A. for years and originally learned to play at the Jonathan Club, which has a strong mah-jongg contingency. Messinger suggests taking six to eight lessons before playing on one’s own, but she often works with clients for several months. “They can play, but they like for me to shadow them,” she says. Most games run two to three hours. But for some, it’s a daylong indulgence with a bartender, catering, and groups of women rotating among mahj and tennis, pickleball, or a visit to the home spa (some even have a masseuse working the shoulders at the table). Once Messinger coaches a client’s inner circle, she is often invited to their second home to train their vacation friends: She has traveled to Aspen and Palm Springs, and recently conducted a weeklong intensive in Bozeman, Montana.
There are more than 30 variations of the game (and nearly half as many spellings), but American-style mah-jongg features four players who draw and discard tiles until they complete a hand. There are three different suits (bamboo, crak, and dot), winds, dragons, and flowers, which are traditionally illustrated by four Confucian plants to remind players of the virtues of winning and losing graciously — although many new tiles have eschewed such traditional symbology. Some players also add additional jokers and blanks to the mix, but purists frown on such a move. The misconception is that mah-jongg is about math, but it’s really about strategy, luck, and identifying patterns. Some think of it as a more complex version of the party game Rummikub.
For some, it’s a daylong indulgence with a bartender, catering, and women rotating among tennis and the spa.
Historically, tiles were made of bone, ivory, wood, or Bakelight and often housed in ornate inlaid cases. Today, every luxury design house produces a mah-jongg set. Hermès offers engraved natural mahogany tiles in a calfskin and lizard leather chest. Aerin Lauder makes one in ivory shagreen and Brunello Cuccinelli’s features hand-painted tiles crafted in walnut and Krion. Since 1948, Crisloid artisans in Providence, R.I., have been producing highly coveted mah-jongg sets — many available only in limited editions and often accompanied by waiting lists.
Collectors will maintain multiple sets, choosing one to suit the mood of the day (dragon slayers, western, tropical). Beyond standard-size tiles, there are miniature travel sets to bring on the Gulfstream or the Airstream and even AquaMahj — a floating game table from the Mahjong Line that comes with drink holders.
L.A. interior designer Mark D. Sikes has also seen an uptick in game table requests from clients. He suggests placing mah-jongg tables in a library, a family room, or a sunroom. “Not only are they great for playing games, but they are also a great spot to serve meals for smaller groups and a great place to work from home,” Sikes says. The tables are typically square, and he prefers that the table and chairs are mixed in materiality and style. “Our favorite thing to do is swath a Parsons-style game table in laminated fabric,” he says. Sikes recently created one with Chaddock that’s available to the public.
At Art Miami last fall, San Francisco gallerist and avid mahj-er Stephanie Breitbard presented the first American-style automatic mah-jongg table (previous iterations have been made for Chinese mah-jongg) that automatically shuffles tiles and builds walls.
To spread the word about your game day, Alexis Traina, the San Francisco–based founder of HiNote — a digital stationery service that lets users send elevated text messages on personalized digital stationery — partnered with the Mahjong Line after receiving countless requests for mah-jongg–themed content. The resulting collection is delightfully cheeky, featuring messages like “Down for a quickie? Need a 4th!” and “I miss you so Mahj.”
The gizmos and colorful neoprene mats are part of the fun, but the game’s true appeal taps into something more primal. Julia Roberts once told Stephen Colbert, “It’s about making order out of chaos.” During the pandemic — in the wake of the Marie Kondo organization craze — mah-jongg reemerged as the perfect analog refuge for those seeking to restore order to their lives and find community. It turns out, pandemic or not, people need a screen-free moment to sit with friends and wrestle with the hands they’ve been dealt, both on the table and off.
“It’s a form of therapy,” Messinger says. “If you talk to a lot of mahj players, the one thing they will tell you is it’s very calming and it’s very bonding. At the table a lot of time we’re either laughing or crying. I have met a lot of wonderful people through mahj who I never would have met. Somehow this brought us together.”
This story originally appeared in the Spring 2026 issue of C Magazine.
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