Stationery Porn – Part One

When I did Unravelling last year, I posted a thread in the forum which began with:

Confession time: I think I have a fetish for stationery. How many notebooks can one need? How many diaries and journals? Heck, how many sets of stickers and labels, of Cavallini postcards and notecards, of Moo mini cards and cards, stickers and stick-notes? I need therapy I am telling you.

At the time I knew that there ware addicts of porn (the regular sort), of shoe porn (the ultimate fetish surely), of kitchen porn (see the Lakeland catalogues but be careful they are truly hardcore), of food porn (may or may not involve regular porn) and even of tangle porn, people who take pics of impossibly tangled skeins of yarn and collectively drool over them in a dedicated forum on Ravelry, a knitting and crochet community. The whole Stationery Porn thing as a collective affliction had bypassed me. I could not know that ten months after those seminal three lines, my thread on Unravelling would still be going strong, 128 replies and more to come as we continue sourcing high-inducing papers from all over the world. 

Last week we took a break from regular transmissions when I shared two extracts by the excellent Lynne Truss and Chris Pascoe. This week I decided to take another mindless detour as I went back to the recommended sites and decided to consolidate the findings here for fellow stationery junkies. And then maybe we should start a Stationery Porn Anonymous (a SPA) and meet weekly to cut papers and snort inks in a safe, communal environment. Click on the images to go to the sites.

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La Marelle is a French site which sells girlie school accessories, bookmarks, little bijoux, and a raft of notebooks, diaries and cards with illustrations by exceptionally talented designers. My favourite are the small and big cahiers which remind me of the soft and hardbacked notebooks I used to use at school. Except these are far, far more glorious than mine ever were. 

Papaya Art is another phenomenal place if you like whimsy chic, as I call it. The quality of everything they sell is outstanding and, quite frankly, I struggle to recommend anything in particular as everything is too damn awesome for words. 

 

 

 

Engrave Your Book is a breath-taking site which speaks for itself. Look, there's even a Jacob cover! Proceed with caution, the site's lethal. 

Each month for 20 months, 25 colours of beautiful pencils packaged in like tones and hues arrive from Japan courtesy of Felissimo. The subscription will cost you approximately £ 260 but, what the hell, it's only 70 caramel macchiatos with change for three Vogues. Can you resist a monthly bouquet of sharpened pencils delivered to your door from the other side of the world?

I am convinced that the best year in my life was 2008. That's because I owned a Smythson diary which I had started with the immortal, if only ever so slightly doomed: 'This is the beginning of a life-changing year'. It was, even if not entirely for the best of reasons. I clearly remember seeing my beautiful emerald diary in the window of the Sloane Street store in mid-December 2007. It was a glorious, dry, nippy, fairy-lit day which had begun with a spin at Ladurée at Harrods for a hot chocolate and was about to end at the Olympia Horse Show. If truth be told, the hot chocolate thing had been slightly marred. 

I had overheard two exceptionally well-preserved old hags talking about fat women and how they really ought not to eat sugars ever. They were not-so-subtly craning their necks surveying every plate and clinking cup in their proximity. I found myself very nearly put off by the teasing cloud of crème Chantilly on the side, resplendent in its minute silver dish but I soldiered on nonetheless. I downed my chocolate, flattened myself against the quilted black wall and made for menswear before I could glimpse them shaking their heads and snorting Botox at my empty cup and jiggling bottom. I bet they did just that. Bastards. But then I went to Smythson and all was well in Steph's World. 

 

Sometimes referred to as a poor man's Smythson, much like Mulberry is a poor man's Louis Vuitton (why is that? I've never seen a homeless person with a leather diary or bag), Aspinal of London boasts an incredible range of fantastic stationery in many colours and materials, as well as accessories for both men and women. 

 

I was in San Francisco years back when I first became aware of Cavallini. Oh glorious, chic, vintage-like Cavallini, why aren't you Manchester-based? Over the years their stock has sprung up everywhere. In the beginning it was the prerogative of Fortnum and Mason, but these days even Waterstones sell their ranges, with anything from wrapping paper to rubber stamps to notebooks on display everywhere. I am particularly fond of the stamps, the files, the wrapping paper and the stickers. Oh and the calendars and the notebooks... which means... I am fond of it all. If, like me, you're in the UK, find the complete range at PaperNation, which also stocks lots of other drool-worthy things, including Japanese masking tape, squeeeeeee!

 

Les Invasions Ephémères is probably my favourite stationery site. As you must have figured out by now, I am a bit of a girlie girl and the stuff that these people sell is right up the cute alley. But it ain't just cute dear reader; it's beautiful. Most of the designs are by the wonderful Sofia Antonovich and the stickers for the iPhone (and for your car, your scooter, your walls!) are just da bomb. I adore les grands carnets.

 

Made in Firenze is a little-known Italian site that sells a range of gifts. They take an absolute age to send the goods but the gloooooorious papers deliver in spades. Look:

 

The Art File sells plenty of notebooks and cards, most of which are recycled and yet are not sad-and-brown or sad-and-grey. Some of them even have metallic covers and beautiful vintage images. Mine has got a couple on a Vespa.

The shop at the Musée D'Orsay in Paris is worth the aching feet. As you reach it at the end of your exhausting tour of the galleries, teased by everything you cannot buy, you will feel yourself  grow lighter and lighter despite the 6-inch wooden wedges (or I did). Many museum shops are glorious of course (The Met's is one of my favourites), but this one is, dare I say this, better because it stocks an incredible array of paperback, staple-bound notebooks and practically no spiral ones. And I love paperbacks. And I detest spirals. 

I shall stop here for today dear reader, as there is much more to talk about and I guess that your browser may have imploded already. Come back on Wednesday for more juicy papers!

Comments

[Amelia]

my goodness, you do know a lot of places!!!! I love stationery too, however, since doing my art degree have enjoyed making them as much as buying them - so satisfying!

Thanks for your feedback on my tagline, have finally decided on one!

Hope you're well :)

Amelia.x

[Kate England]

Beautiful stationery!! Very inspiring, thanks so much! :)

[helen]

Thank you for this Steph....I get giddy about stationary too ~ hope you are having a lovely Tuesday :~)