Branding, even in the Pens You Write With

I collect pens.

A pen isn’t always just a pen. It could be a brand, a brand that says a little something about the person that’s brandishing it.

For the most part, my pens are not terribly expensive. Hardly any are fountain pens – I’m a mess with fountain pens – they’re mostly roller balls and ball points. But each one has a certain style, a weight, a comfort, color, motif, a feel to them that attracts me. I like the more retro style, nothing too fancy, but I guess that goes with my fondness for these tools that is not necessarily present with my younger staff who like the convenience of recording with technology.

I have more of the Retro 51 brand pens than any other. I also like the Aurora pens from Italy, stylish but understated. I like Waterman and Sheaffer, but I only purchase them when I am feeling especially “flush.” All of my pens, though all different, seem to have a consistent look and feel, and they mark my daily life like monograms.

I always have a pen in my hand, and I carry two pens with me each day. Obviously, the tactile aspect is important to me. I was once told by a writing teacher that many people must hold on to something in order to think clearly or creatively.

In speaking with others about their views on the “pens in their lives,” I’ve been told that some have “dress pens” for special occasions, some collect pens as mementos of where they’ve been or a special person who gave it or handed it down. There’s a nostalgic aspect to that, like certain kinds of smells or tastes or moments of déjà vu.

Sometimes a pen really is just a pen, but even then I want a writing instrument that provides effortless comfort and ease in signing my name or writing a thank you note. If you are caring, if you are thoughtful, you find significance in almost everything. And that’s the purpose of brands, to represent that secret niche for a specific audience.