Dozy Writes

A few weeks ago I surprised my partner, A.P, by suddenly asking him, ‘Do you think I should buy a guillotine?’ 

He looked puzzled, wondering, not unreasonably, where this question had come from. We had been sitting eating breakfast companionably, thinking about the day ahead. 

I realised that I needed to explain what had sparked this particular query so I described the chain of thoughts that began with me wondering if I should cut a fringe (bangs) in my hair and ended with me questioning if I should cut up my jotter style notebook into A4 sheets thus making the purchase of a guillotine necessary. I won’t bore you with the ridiculous details in between.

A.P just smiled and said that if I really wanted to get one I should but he added that he wasn’t entirely certain that I needed one.

My proclivity for stationery items has always been a bit of a joke between us. When we met, I had an impressive collection of stationery items and A.P was always rather bemused by my insistence that these were all necessary items.

My obsession started when I was a child. My mam was a self-employed sales manager and she had the most wonderful selection of stationery. Our house was filled with order forms, branded pens, address labels, date received stamps and an adding machine which I often used as a till in my make believe shop. She even had a small photocopier – this was the late 80s, I can’t tell you how exciting that was. 

My dad added to the medley with a selection of branded pens, pencils and notebooks which he received through his job working for a brewery. The one thing we were never short of in our household was a pen.

My passion for stationery continued as I got older. If I was having a bad day I would visit my favourite stationery shop which was quite a traditional style establishment.

It was one of those places where I would feel a sense of going back in time as soon as I entered. The world outside would fade as I was engulfed in the quiet embrace of the narrow shop. Sturdy wooden shelves that had likely been installed decades before still retained a dignified grandeur. Account ledger books sat alongside fountain pens and moleskine bound notebooks, seemingly waiting for an elderly gentleman to buy them and fill them with the ordered details of his life.

Occasionally, I would purchase something but often I just visited to experience some peace. The day’s worries would slip away from me as I trailed my fingers across the worn edges of the wooden shelves. It was my magical place.

As the years progressed, I ended up working in a job where one of my duties included taking responsibility for submitting the stationery order. My work pals affectionately called me ‘The Stationery Queen’ and my ability to offer professional guidance to my colleagues about their stationery requirements was a particular career highlight. 

One of my friends, appreciating my passion for stationery, used to bring me a notebook or a set of index flags instead of a bottle of wine whenever he came over for dinner. Every piece was a gem that was added to my collection.

However, my stationery habit had to be curtailed when I decided to change how I lived my life. A combination of plans to travel and the desire to live a life with less possessions meant that it was no longer possible to maintain my stationery collection so I let it go.

Mostly.

OK, maybe I kept more of it than I have let on. Don’t judge me.

So whilst this may seem like a trivial subject to many people, I’d appreciate it if you could bear with me because I’d like to reminisce about some of my favourite stationery items and the deeper meaning behind them.

1. Guillotine

I love the idea of cutting in a straight line, of creating neat and sharp edges that convey a professional finish.

Unfortunately I don’t seem to be able to use guillotines effectively. It seems as if no matter how much one part of my mind wants the neat and clean edges, another part is rebelling so I end up with pieces of paper shaped like something more akin to an experimental quadrilateral with fringed edging. 

I’m not sure if it’s actually in my nature to be neat and precise, no matter how hard I try. Maybe I should stop going against my nature and just accept the experimental shapes.

2. Presentation cards

I have a peculiar attachment to presentation cards. They are almost like a pack of playing cards but you get to create the content and you can concoct whatever game you want to.

I also admire the compactness of them. Their necessity for succinctness appeals to me greatly and is something I aspire to although it often feels like an unattainable dream. I have far too much to say.

3. Notebooks

This category could justify a list of its own so varied are my preferences. Hardback notebooks, spiral bound, grid lined, jotter style exercise books, and moleskine bound are just some of my favourites. 

I have always seen notebooks as the gateway to a world of possibilities. The empty pages seem as if they are waiting to be filled with rich stories and ideas. 

The fact that I can transfer the thoughts from my head into a notebook and somehow make these concepts real feels like some form of alchemy. I can do that on a computer as well of course but I feel more connected to an idea when I write it down in a notebook first.

Notebooks can also bring a sense of comfort and support. They are a crutch for our memory, reminding us what we need to accomplish today and what we need to buy in order to make our dinner. They can be party to our deepest thoughts, quietly absorbing our hopes and fears, allowing us to work through whatever might be bothering us. They are the place where we doodle or draw during the times when we can’t, or prefer not to, express our thoughts in words. 

Notebooks are so much more than just a collection of blank pages.

4. Pens

I love all sorts of pens but my current guilty pleasure is a BIC 4-colour retractable pen. They are a sneaky way for me to keep a selection of pens whilst still only appearing to have a couple. They’re the perfect pen for travelling. I don’t know if BIC already markets them in this way but if not, they should.

Although my tastes have tended towards the less expensive pens on the market, I did invest in a Parker ballpoint pen many years ago. It was a dream to write with and it fitted nicely into my Filofax. I’m not sure why I had a Filofax. I worked part time on the photo counter at Boots the Chemist so I didn’t have a particularly busy schedule other than turning up for my allotted hours. Perhaps it fed into my desire to become a business professional once I completed my college course.

Sometimes, it’s hard to recognise the person you once were, so different are your values and ideas at various stages in your life.

5. Slide binder

You know this one, it’s the long strip of plastic that you slide up the side of a bundle of pages to make a booklet.

This was a childhood favourite of mine because I could attach a strip of crepe paper and then dance around with it as if I was a gymnast doing a ribbon routine at the Olympics. I would be flicking and twirling all over the place, having a marvellous time to myself.

I used to love watching gymnastics. I went to an gymnastics/acrobatics class as a small child so I felt a personal connection to the sport. I remember watching a film about Nadia Comăneci and sobbing uncontrollably at the price of her success. I was 10 years old and it was a startling realisation to discover that not everyone has a young person’s best interests at heart.

6. Scissors

I used to have a ridiculous amount of scissors: nail scissors; kitchen scissors; multipurpose scissors; embroidery scissors; hairdressing scissors; pinking shears; dressmaking scissors; and craft scissors. It was a fairly comprehensive collection.

Scissors have been symbolic in many cultures but particularly in ancient Egyptian society where they represented the ability to cut through any negative energy or bad fortune, an image which I find quite pleasing. 

I marvel at their transformational ability: cut the neckline and arms on a t-shirt to give it a more flattering fit; or give someone a haircut and take 10 years off their age.

It’s important that they are used with the right intention otherwise you end up with someone cutting away one leg of multiple pairs of trousers as an act of revenge. That’s not the kind of transformation we are looking for.

7. Post-it notes

I love the manoeuvrability of post-it notes, they are great to use for mapping out ideas and projects and small enough to carry a small pad around with you.

One of my friends gave me some giant post-it notes when I was trying to map out some web pages a few years ago and I still have some left over from the project. I don’t want to use them, I just like admiring them. My friend and I have since drifted apart but these notes have travelled across continents with me just in case I might need them.

I have been struggling to let go of the friendship and I wonder sometimes if these post-it notes have become representative of my desire to hold onto something from the past. Perhaps it’s time to use them all up and move on.

8. Raffle tickets

I find books of raffle tickets to be strangely fascinating. To me, they represent hope and good luck. The idea that your fortunes could change simply by someone randomly pulling your ticket out from a Tupperware container has always brought me some excitement.

In practice, the most exciting thing you might get is a bottle of wine – not fantastic if you’re teetotal. Mind you, I was once at a raffle where someone ‘won’ a tin of baked beans. That seemed to be a particularly low point in raffle prize history.

9. Whiteboard

In my last job, I had a couple of whiteboards which I used to map out projects and keep track of actions. That was always satisfying but my favourite whiteboard activity always occurred when my pal was trying to calculate holiday accruals. She used to get frustrated because she hated doing anything mathematical. After a while she’d shout across the room to me, ‘Come on, Carol Vorderman, get your pen out and do some calculations!’

I’d grab a whiteboard marker and someone else would start humming the theme tune to Countdown whilst I made my calculations, careful to show my workings. We would giggle away to ourselves, enjoying the light relief it brought to our day. 

She died quite suddenly last year and I can’t look at a whiteboard without thinking of her. I can still hear her laughter in my head, the silly accents she’d put on that would have me in hysterics and the facial expressions she’d pull when making a joke. I miss her a lot.

10. Paperclips

I used to possess a selection of paperclips in every possible colour. I loved their ability to hold sheets of paper together without permanence. I’ve often wondered if this is a metaphor for how I see relationships. 

If the configuration of the pages needs to alter, a paperclip can be removed and reattached to the new arrangement without changing its shape. In contrast, if you want to remove a staple it has to be bent out of shape and is no longer usable.

The staple has become disposable because its only purpose in life was to hold that specific set of pages together. It has been destroyed by its own inflexibility whereas a paperclip can adapt to another set of pages and it doesn’t need to be discarded.

The pages of life are always going to change, so perhaps it’s better to live our lives more like a paperclip than a staple.

11. Account ledger books

I have never required an account ledger book but that hasn’t stopped me from wanting to own one. I used to love looking at them, opening them up and admiring the neatly printed columns, the lines and boxes representing security and order.

I studied accountancy as part of my business qualification. I wasn’t particularly enamoured with it. In truth, I’m not sure that I was overly enamoured with the majority of my coursework.

I went to college because a life defining event at the age of 16 had left me feeling too grown up to remain in school. I remember going to an interview for the course and the tutor asked me to tell him about my favourite subjects at school. I told him how much I loved English and History and how I enjoyed music even though I wasn’t particularly good at it.

He looked puzzled and asked me why I was applying to do a business course, wondering if I wouldn’t be more suited to a creative course. I understood the point he was making but at that time I wanted to have something fixed in my life, something that would bring order to my chaotic mind.

It wasn’t an entirely successful plan but it helped for a while.

12. Pencils

When I first went to high school, my classmates and I were all still using pencils to write in our jotters. One day, our Religious Education teacher decided to have a chat with us. She told us that since we were now in high school, we were no longer children so it was time to ditch the pencils and start using pens. We had to stop being afraid of making mistakes.

I thought she was talking nonsense, I was only 11 years old when I first went to high school so I was still very much a child. As an adult, I can appreciate the sentiment behind the idea of not being scared to make mistakes but I wasn’t mature enough to grasp that at the time.

I still retained a love affair with pencils despite the apparent childishness of them and I used to write letters in pencil to my younger cousin when she first went away to college. They were daft little missives that contained jokes and little stories and in each one I would tell her what style of pencil I had used – this letter has been brought to you by a Staedtler 2HB. 

These missives were an escape and perhaps it was symbolic that I wrote with a pencil so much at that time. It’s understandable to want to revert to childhood when you’re 23 years old and dealing with a failing marriage and the terminal illness of your mother. 

Sometimes it’s OK to write in pencil.

I think we all have items that we use as props to help us navigate the challenges in life. Stationery was one of my props, my way of escaping briefly from tough times. I’m sure, as you’re reading this, you might be thinking of items you have used as props. It seems to be a part of human nature.

Since giving up the majority of my possessions, I have tried to navigate life without any props but it’s a work in progress. I am still quite attached to my faithful travel alarm clock that I have had for over 25 years. It goes with me wherever I travel and the fact that it is surprisingly bulky and rarely tells the correct time is irrelevant. When I look at my alarm clock I feel like I’m at home regardless of where I am.

I know that my sense of constancy ultimately comes from within me but for the moment I am happy to lug my old alarm clock around with me and gaze fondly at items of stationery in the shop without actually purchasing anything.

That feels like progress to me.