
We've officially set our first meeting date for August 30! I have all sorts of things up my sleeve, but most of them are surprises because things are just more fun that way.
In preparation for the actual letter writing, I picked up a copy of
The Art of the Personal Letter by Margaret Shepherd. Obviously, the cover is charming, but I think we'll be getting a good dose of laughter from Ms. Shepherd. I'm still on the first part where she discusses the materials. I can't help but read aloud from it in my Jane Austen voice. Ahem.
Invented in the 1930s, the ballpoint pen may be practical, cheap, reliable, and ubiquitous, but it sucks the life out of good handwriting. A ballpoint is the old bathrobe of pens, not really up to greeting a friend. (Still, it's better than pencil on unlined notebook paper, the T-shirt and undershorts of the letter-writing wardrobe.)And a bit of history:
Only two generations ago, people's choice of stationery size conveyed a clear message about their personality and gender, the subject matter, their social status, and their relationship to the reader. Stationers offered more than twenty-four distinct sizes of stationery, each with its own official name and each with its strictly specified use and user. In England, these social distinctions were as obvious to the eye as the difference between an Oxford accent and and Cockney slang was to the ear. Well-bred gentlemen and ladies each wrote in the appropriate script style, which was conspicuously different from the business hand of legions of clerical drudges. They used their own specific proper sizes of paper, sending a letter of introduction in manly script on Baronet paper or an invitation in a feminine hand on a dainty tea-length card. A bride acquired a stationery "wardrobe," along with her trousseau for the social demands of first getting married and then being married; in the event of her husband's death, she switched to special paper with a wide black border prescribed for her first year of widowhood and a narrow border allowed thereafter. In an age of subtle social distinctions, sending words on the wrong piece of paper, like using the wrong fork, could be a major faux pas. I'm off to fret about whether we are a "letter writing" or a "letter-writing" club. I'm pretty sure it's hyphenated, but that creates more work. Could someone just tell me it's optional and I'll be able to sleep?