I went to go and buy a new notebook today. My last one has disappeared (which probably means it's just at the old flat) and I need to be able to take notes on things when out and about to so the time has come to invest in some new way of recording nonsense. What I didn't realise is that those nice moleskine ones with the leather covers and straps cost ten whole pounds.
If you have to spend that much on something that is just going to be filled with badly scrawled notes in spidery handwriting it jolly well aught to be the ground work for a book. It's far too much to spend on something to just fill it with pictures of winkies and skeletons How did Picasso afford to own them? Hemingway must have pimped himself out on the street to get his moleskine fix.
On the way back from getting this 'investment' I got a random email from a complete stranger saying they liked this blog. It made me all smiley which would have been fine but I was walking past a primary school and my slightly loony grin while gazing into the middle distance near the children made the teacher think I was some sort of hirsute paedophile.
Perhaps I should have shown her my new moleskine, a chap with that level of executive notebook can be of no danger to society.
6 comments:
It's an executive notebook, indeed. I like 'em cos they'll fit in a handbag, and you can shove all sorts of stuff in them and the elastic will keep it all together. Probably not the romantic Hemingway/Picasso angle they're going for, but you can't have everything.
Oh, I think stuffing them full of extra things so they are stout with notes is definitely half the point of having one.
A 30p spiral-top jobbie and a hair elastic work too, in a pinch. Not so sexy, though...
Louche, I'm impressed you stretch a notebook so long. I fill mine with scrabble – half tee-line shorthand, half illegible EKG graphing – every assignment or two. And I have small chests of the damn things in my office.
Cheers, Amanda (now resuming lurking. Ta.)
Well this notebook has lasted a while as I have had a few different scraps off paper on the go at once, I thought it was time to settle down and get one serious notebook.
The only other person I know who is as ready with a notebook as you is the editor of the Sunday Express - so god knows where all this will lead...
Maybe I'm approaching this notebook thing all wrong. Like dating, perhaps it's best to have one elegant steady, instead of a bunch of cheap and cheerful tarts?
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