God knows I’m bad enough with the notebooks. But now I’ve delved deeper into fountain pens – and, potentially, worse: fountain pen ink – I’m really looking at an expensive habit here.
It’s gotten so bad I’m day-dreaming of pens. 1.1mm italic nibs with bright red ink, something like Diamine’s Wild Strawberry. Every time Platinum pens comes out with a new colour in their #3776 Century range I start salivating. I own just one, the Chartres Blue. The colour is stunning, a deep blue with a touch of purple to it. The nib, fine, runs smaller than European nibs as many Japanese nibs do, and has a touch of tooth to it that makes me shiver. It is exceptional. It’s my perfect pen. And the breather hole on the nib is a little heart.
It’s a brilliant little pen and they keep coming out with new colours. It’s torture. And it’s not as if the Platinum #3776 is the only pen I covet.
I have a handful of much cheaper pens, all of which are solid writers, but having experienced god in pen form, all my stationery-based daydreams contain something atrociously beyond my budget.
It could be worse, I suppose. At least I’m not into classic cars.