Wednesday, March 24, 2010

This Is Not A Pen

That’s right, this is not a pen. A pen is my gold Bulgari fountain pen that cost a mint and was given to me in its own leather box. No, this blue thing right here is a piece of me, an olfactory epiphany like no other.

I first bought the Uni Ball Signo Blueberry Scent in 2006. I found it in PaperChase, amidst a million of other similar things. Except this one was scented. I bought in bulk, but by the following year, I’d run dry. No bother, as on a trip to Paris in the autumn, I found myself in a quaint and mouthwatering stationery shop in St Germain des Prés and there it was again, the Blueberry Signo, the most delectable olfactory experience since Marmite hit the hot plate of the George. I bought all the ones they had but, alas, fast-forward to 2008 and again I was out.

This morning I had to go out after a four-day hiatus spent holed up with tea, computer and books. I walked straight past the stationery shop even though I knew that I was really out because in desperate need of envelopes. When I returned, I could not believe my eyes when I saw the Scented Signos stacked neatly by the till, in all of their scented plastic glory.


The shrill in my voice was not lost on the shop assistant who smiled and said: ‘Aren’t they lovely? And they smell so!’. And off I went on a monologue about how many happy notebook pages the Blueberry Signo has filled over the years, most notably during a lone visit to Paris when I was listening to the Louvre taped guide and taking notes with it. Oh happy, happy, happy memories. Oh happy, happy, happy return. I am going to buy all I find this time. I’ll never run out again. And that, my dear reader, was my day.
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