Seeking Serenity Amidst Stationery

Taking a leaf out of The Stationery Shop of Tehran by Marjan Kamali – one of the most delightful, cosiest books I've ever read.

Hello there.

We're (finally) in December. Not to sound dramatic, but perhaps the beginning of the end, if you will. As the cliché goes, every end holds the potential for a new beginning…

A few days ago, I felt as if I were on an especially wild and slippery see-saw of seasonal affective disorder. On most days, it is a steady feeling; but during that particular week, it was anything but steady. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I went through the hours feeling restless and exhausted at once; suffice it to say that this is a really strange combination. My body was tired, but my brain wouldn’t shut up. I wanted to find some way, any way, of flipping the “off” switch. It was a combination of ennui, restlessness, and too much adrenaline, which I didn't how to channelise. That's why I decided to walk to my neighbourhood stationery shop.

Less than five minutes’ walking distance from my apartment, Surre Majuscule is a gorgeous little shop tucked away in a bylane adjacent to one of the main roads. As soon as the automatic doors slide open noiselessly, one is transported to an enchanting world of stationery. It feels like being ensconced in the most tranquil, undisturbed place imaginable.

Every conceivable item of stationery is arranged by category and/or brand in pleasing rows and columns; not a thing is out of place. This is the ground floor that I’m talking about. The upstairs doubles up as a bookshop…one’s greedy heart cannot have enough. Aisle after aisle of books are kept according to genre and language.

Since I don’t read physical books any more, I didn’t tempt fate by going upstairs. I stayed downstairs. That played with my will power, and my wallet, well enough!

For the first time, I saw the world-famous Leuchtturm1917 notebooks up close, arranged in order of size, on a rotating turnstile. Vibrant colours greeted me: yellow, red, orange, blue, black. I did not think twice before picking up a bright red B5 ruled hardcover notebook (to use as my next journal when the current one ends). Other than that, there were many local brands of notebooks with exquisite, creamy pages. Pictured below are some notebooks from L'Atelier du Papier (“The Paper Workshop”).

Also realising that I needed pens (because I write copiously through the day, as if I’m having a conversation with my journal; and oh, did I mention that it’s just me in my little apartment…so, talking aloud to myself would seem a little nutty, would it not?), I wandered over to the section where pens were displayed in transparent stands. The stands had paper glued to them, so that one could test out whichever pen one wanted before making up one’s mind to buy it. Of course, the moment I spotted my favourite brands (Pilot and Uniball), I felt like a child in Hamleys or a boulangerie. (Okay, that’s a lie. I felt like that the moment I walked into the damn shop.) I had the time of my life drawing squiggles on the white sheets, comparing the Uni Jetstream to the Pentel Energel to the Pilot FriXion to the Pilot V5/V7 to the Pilot G2. It was a riot of colours all right. I allowed myself to be guided by how it felt to write with the pen: was it comfortable to hold; was the grip easy enough; did it make a smooth line; did the ink bleed through the page? I had such a great time playing with rainbow-coloured roller gels, liquid gel inks, roller ball pens... Like a puppy without a leash, my stationery-nerdy self had a field day.

Ultimately, I bought four Pilot V7 pens along with the Leuchtturm1917 notebook. My Christmas present to myself is heeere!!! I want to grin like the Cheshire cat; jump up and down in glee. My wallet whimpered a little. I soothed it by reminding it that my salary would get credited soon.

To be in that shop is to feel one's steely resolve crumbling. It is to lean into a softening; an irresistible beckoning; a sense of possibility. Anything can happen. I can meet a stranger, talk about 0.5 vs. 0.7 pen nibs. Gel ink vs rollerball ink. 80gsm paper vs. 100gsm paper. A5 vs. A4 vs. B5 notebooks (ruled or unruled). I can be hypnotised by the pleasing curls of handwritten cursive. The very air is imbued with the inviting fragrance of ink on paper in a way that’s subtle but unmistakable. I wish I could bottle that scent.

Around me, fellow customers were handling the stationery with just as much reverence and care as I was. They seemed to know that (especially in this hyper-digital era of screens and more screens) there is a special – and perhaps fading; but please God, may it never come to that – gentle charm about being surrounded by art supplies, sketchbooks, planners, journals, fountain pens, paints… I could go on. Indeed, it is a sanctuary where one can simply be with one’s meandering thoughts, much like I was, and channelise that nervous energy into absorbing the sights and sounds and smells and textures of the shop.

It gave me a different insight into the word lonely. In that shop, surrounded by the most timeless things I know – paper and ink – I felt cocooned in safety; nestled in solace. In my mind and heart, I know that this loneliness is poignant and somewhat permanent, especially in the winter months…but I suppose that we find our ways of coping with it, at best, if not thriving…

I have many conversations with my journal, which run the gamut from silly to philosophical. However, I find that being in the latter state of mind can be a dangerous slippery slope to rumination, of which I am an absolute champ. First prize, I swear. Maybe it comes with the territory of being soft, sensitive, emotional (none of which is inherently problematic; it’s our society that equates it with weakness) – call it what you will. I’m still learning to see, and hold, all the parts of myself with gentleness and non-judgement. Living alone is a masterclass in this one thing.

I hope that you, too, find ways to be gentle and compassionate with yourself on rough days. I would love to know what your coping strategies are. (Yes, the Internet is a dizzying rabbit hole of self-care advice. But I want to know: what works for you?)

Stay warm and cosy. Just breathe and allow yourself to be as you are. Savour The Stationery Shop of Tehran with your favourite hot beverage (my copy was gifted to me a few weeks shy of 2024, by my most precious colleague-mentor-momfigure, whom I will write about soon). Much love.

PS: Wherever you're reading this from, I'd love to know if you're a journaling-stationery nerd like me. I was inspired in part by

Daniela

,

Lorena Albariño

,

Minaz Ansari

,

Heidi Fiedler

,

Nivetha

,

Caroline Donahue

and

Katharina

to write this essay. If you love stationery and/or art supplies as much as I do, tell me about your favourite store in the comments (and if you can, leave the Google Maps link to it!). Let's start a conversation.💜

PPS: Don’t put any pressure on yourself for 2025.