I have frequently admitted to my addiction of all things paper, and in particular elegant stationery. This is a girl who has a chest of drawers devoted to her stationery collection, and it doesn't all fit in.
The addiction is not a static thing, I don't indulge in pretty cards and note-paper as a trophy collection, no, I actually use it, with those two other outmoded items, the pen and the postage stamp, so I'm constantly having to refresh my collection. This is helped immensely by having a friend who goes on annual trips to the USA which involves an annual pilgrimage to Paper Source, and any other boutique stationers she can get to, and who is not adverse to going shopping on my behalf. And oh, what a shame, Erin got back two days ago from one of her little missions. Damn.
The there's the internet, and suddenly you can order personalised stationery from Crane, amongst other heavenly suppliers. I've just run out of one of my favourite personalised sets, so I think a new little something is in order, with perhaps with a little dagger. Yes.
Anyway, what is the point in all this, besides me prattling on again about one of my obsessions. Oh yes, I remember now. I always assumed Hubby just rolled his eyes at my little paper thing, just like he does at the little book thing (made of paper, by the way) but then he sent me this link to an article in The New York Times, The Lettered Set, which surely means he endorses my habit, well that's how I choose to interpret it.
The article makes me feel better about my stationery drawers when there are people out there, bless them, who have stationery wardrobes! Something to aspire to, perhaps?