Hello dear Off-Topic readers,
It’s always odd to be writing this when we’re about to dive into a national holiday here in the UK, knowing you may be elsewhere in the world and in the midst of a regular week, but either way, it’s Queenie’s jubilee, so we’re on the crest of a four-day weekend…although somehow it’s snuck up on me, so I’m writing this newsletter in a little more of a rush than usual. Although hopefully it will be perfectly-formed-by-association with the four perfect things I wanted to share with you.
I wonder if you have those things around your house that you love, but where familiarity means you no longer truly see them? But then there may be other things where no matter how much a part of your everyday they become, you’re still delighted by their form or how they feel in your hand? These are a few of the things that fit into the latter category for me - I hope you’ll enjoy reading about them :)
This plate is a relatively recent addition to this list, but it’s been used every day, sometimes twice a day, since it was given to me by my son as a birthday gift in early March. I love it because it was from him, but also because the background is a soft cream, rather than brilliant white. Because it has the most divine lip that curves up a little more than most and makes the contents of the plate feel nicely contained. Because it is simple and neat, yet not too neat due to the hand-drawn print. And because it somehow makes whatever I put on it feel like a treat and taste even better, so much so, that if it’s in the dishwasher, I will take it out and hand wash it. It is more of a side-plate size, but I prefer that at lunchtime - it’s the perfect size for scrambled eggs or toasted sandwiches. It’s made by Marimekko. My son bought it here when we popped over to Lewes one day, but they also have an online shop and are super helpful if you ring wanting to speak to a human (which I have - they even added something to the website for me when I couldn’t see it in stock but knew they’d had it in the shop a few months earlier).
Staying in the kitchen, this salt mill made by Le Creuset was bought several months after the last one, of a different make, broke. It seems we humans (although not this human specifically) can make cars and aeroplanes, but not mills where the teeth don't break or jam. In between permanent mills, we’ve used those single-use disposable ones and felt bad about ourselves - really, it was a relief to just finally choose one. But this is not a perfect mill (I know I promised four perfect things…but wait, it’s coming). We’ve had it for about a year now and I like that it only grinds finely as this seems like a natural way to use less salt. But my family don’t; they want to cover their food in great hunks of crystal and would like the ability to switch to a coarse grind when I’m not looking. And it capacity isn’t huge, so requires refilling more often than I’d like. It also leaks salt over the work surface and dining table (the best salt mill we had sat upside-down when not in use which stopped this from happening, although it was ugly and broke eventually). But for all its imperfections, I love the way it looks. And this is enough to outweigh its many flaws. It has a smooth, highly-polished body and the colour feels like something I wouldn’t pick (even though I did actually pick it). Sometimes colours I wouldn’t pick feel jarring, but other times, surprising, and in a good way. This is one of those times. And like a goldfish, I’m yet to grow used to the surprise, so am still very, ‘Oh wow! A beautiful purple salt mill!’ about it. They’ve just added this gorgeous Bamboo Green to the range, and as we’re still using a single-use pepper grinder (but we get through it at a slower rate, so it’s not quite so guilting), that may come to live with us at some point too. I have bolded the main takeaway around this mill…it’s really a message within a message.
Onto stationery. My husband chooses the most amazing stationery. He rootles around and finds shops I haven’t come across and then refuses to reveal his sources. He buys wafer-thin wooden paperclips in the shape of animals that come in perfect Japanese slide boxes, pens that write nicely, and notebooks with thick creamy pages. And also, this stapler. I can’t put my finger on exactly why I love it so much, only that it gives the most satisfying cl-ick when I staple something. That it is somehow nicer to bring a stapler together in your hand, than to give a downward press onto a desk. That it is ergonomic and feels vaguely old-fashioned whilst looking quite modern. That it is a weird colour, but somehow its oddness makes it unique and even more lovely - I have nothing else the colour of a washed-out salmon, but cannot tell you how much I love it. Here it is from Amazon and from an independent shop. From the images, I don’t think either are quite the same colour as mine and they don’t seem to show the logo anymore either (but it’s like that on Monograph’s own website, so I’m assuming they’re authentic).
This ruler was also a gift from my husband, several christmases ago. I’d never noticed how much the tiny lip on a regular ruler makes the measuring feel inaccurate and dissatisfying until I used this one made by Hay. The markings sit flat against the paper and there is something utterly lovely in that. Sometimes I stand it on its end on my desk to measure the height of something (mostly envelopes in the is-this-a-Large-Letter or a Small-Parcel posting conundrum) - it amazes me every time that the measuring can start right from the very edge - why aren’t all rulers made like this. I’m quite protective over my stationery - yes, you can use it, but please bring it straight back because that piece is really special (I realise I say piece as though my stationery is a couture dress…). But still I find it in my son’s drawers weeks later. He likes nice stationery too, but covers it in graphite and charcoal dust (and dents). Although he’s only home for another year - a gap year - and then he’ll be off and I think at that point I’ll wish he was still here to make my nice things grubby. Actually, I’m probably already wishing that, so maybe I should just deposit every piece of beloved stationery into his room right now and ask him to go ahead and lightly ruin it for posterity (either way, the ruler has never looked the same since a spell in his room). I don't know where my husband got it and he can’t remember either - only that it’s made by HAY. But if you ever see a flush-to-the-page triangular wooden ruler like this, snap it up - you won't regret it. Although I do wish it had millimetres for greater accuracy. And also inches (although that’s nothing do with Boris’ extraordinary plans around reverting to imperial measurements, only that quilt-makers mostly work in inches when cutting or measuring fabric).
Please do feel free to share your own perfect things - I’d love to hear.
With love, thanks for reading, and wishing you a happy end to the week whether that’s today or in a few days’ time,
Florence x
Ps. No footnotes. I’m as shocked as you are.
I don't know why you love your stapler, but I love mine because it looks like a friendly whale from the side, and I've had to stop myself putting googly eyes on those side rivets
Not sure what it is with the Finns (the people of Finland, I mean) and crockery but I have one of the Arabia Moomin mugs and it is JUST RIGHT. It's a Christmas one so I only use it for a few weeks each year. The rest of the time I mostly drink from Duralex Gigogne 220ml glasses which are also a lovely size and shape and feel just right in the hand (mine at least), and I love that they're incredibly robust and also cheap and easily replaceable if they ever were to be somehow broken - rare combo of very nice and not at all 'precious' (also still made in France!).
Ugh, the salt grinders! We gave up and now have finely ground salt next to the cooker for cooking and a jar of Maldon flakes for when we're eating; all a bit fiddly but we are freed from the treadmill (haha) of ever-failing salt mills. We do have one for pepper which has a stupid design flaw that means a few peppercorns get left in the bottom of it when all the rest are gone; it's like there's absolutely no quality control or prototype testing in the seasoning mill design process anywhere!
Next week's post had better be 100% footnotes.
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