Midori Traveler's Notebook

The notebook after several weeks of wear

 I'm not sure what I had originally started out looking for, but one morning I found myself plummeting down the rabbit hole of heirloom journals and premium papers. Have you had this experience? When you stumble across one of the many highly specialized subgroups on the internet with their own lingo and holy grails, and you're horribly fascinated and somewhat repelled but just keep reading (hint: if you ever want to find an answer to an obscure question, just google search your key terms and "forum").  Eventually, I came away a little boggle-headed but also a lot more schooled within a very narrow body of knowledge. And I found a better journal for me than all the previous ones I've tried over the years. In short order, a small part of my tax refund was applied to a Midori Traveler's Notebook coming all the way from Japan.

It's a simple notebook system, in the quiet and refined style that the Japanese do well. There's a thick vegetable-tanned leather cover that's made in Chiangmai, Thailand; elastics that hold the pieces inside as well as wrap around the entire journal; and a tin medallion to bind the elastics together. You can swap in different notebooks and other accessories to customize it to your needs. It's designed to be personalized, portable, and long-lasting. Once a notebook is filled, it can be slipped off and swapped for a new blank one. It's only the paper notebooks that have to be replaced, not the whole journal itself.

The notebook can comfortably accommodate about three notebooks before it gets too fat

I decided to customize mine with a blank notebook, a 2-month daily diary, a graph-lined notebook, a zip pouch, and a credit card holder. That way, I would have a place for thoughts, inspiration, a daily journal, receipts, and less important credit cards that don't fit in my wallet. I imagine it to be a cross between a Filofax and an ordinary journal, versatile enough to warrant my taking it everywhere, and therefore capable of actually being a kind of ongoing scrapbook of my life. One user described it as "adventure journaling."

This is how the 2-month universal diary is set up

Now that I've had it for a few weeks, switching out different notebooks and changing the order of things until it felt just so, I have to say that I really love it. The leather is getting worn just as expected, still stiff and sturdy but with a crosshatching of surface scuffs and wear marks (if I ever decide I dislike the worn-in look, I can oil it and it all disappears). And it's been very convenient to have a central location for my things. When I change bags, I just grab my wallet, phone, and notebook.

It's turning out as useful as I had hoped, and I feel some easing of my anxiety that time is passing me by, unrecorded. And ultimately, that is the reason I got the notebook. Flipping through my old journals gave me a feeling of connectedness to the past and to my former self. I felt a mixture of curiosity, surprise, and nostalgia, and I was glad to have them.

Fountain pens exhibit little feathering on the paper (quotes are from Walden)

To complete the tour of this rabbit warren, here are a few places I came across in my readings that may interest you. In no particular order:
- the Midori Traveler's Notebook Flickr group
- the "adventure journaling" YouTube unboxing and review
- Everyday Carry (kind of like the ever-popular "what's in your purse?" post, but predominantly male and with a survivalist slant)
- the 2013 Hong Kong ferry meetup to commemorate the anniversary edition
- the brand website, which includes profiles of artists and other notable persons and how they use the notebook, along with uploads from ordinary users

I went whole hog and acquired a Lamy Safari fountain pen, too

Note: You don't have to order directly from Japan to get this notebook. It's even sold on Amazon, but it turned out to be about 25% cheaper for me to order from a Japanese website even with shipping (pencils.jp, if you're interested), and there was a complete selection of accessories.

Pots

I think I'm having an identity crisis of sorts, at least as seen through the evidence of my clothes. Recently, I decided to give up the ghost and accept the reality of my new body shape. I wasn't heavy exactly, but things have shifted around. So I gave away a small bag of my tiniest clothes and bought some sad elastic waist pants. Haha. And then, voila--the last of my post-baby weight melted away and the pants sag every time I wear them. The other of my 3 purchases so far this year was also a failure, a pair of Eileen Fisher pants. The brand fits my demographic, but not me, which is a lesson to me in rule-making when it comes to fashion. In my defense, I couldn't try them on because I had a sleeping baby strapped to me at the time.

But all in all, I'm not entirely dissatisfied. The pants themselves were only a dollar and a half each, and it's super easy to give away clothes on FreeCycle and thus avoid the landfill while making some poor student or resident hippie happy.

But I haven't written much lately because I haven't had much interest in talking about clothes, though I still like reading what other people have to say. I wonder if it was the acquisition of things that kept the obsession going. I haven't gotten a lot, and every time I think about getting a new thing, knowing that I'll have to record that purchase--at least for my own sake if not on the blog--keeps me honest.

But I've just been interested in things rather different from the style world. I've been trying to make more things from scratch, like bread, yogurt, and even laundry detergent;, moving on to using cloth diapers;  planning our next foraging trip (the wild leeks should be coming up soon!), and otherwise making tiny incremental changes toward a more simple, unadorned life. We'll be moving in August to a new space, a 2-bedroom with loft in what used to be a turn-of-the century pottery mill belonging to the university's founder. I'll be one block from a waterfall and gorge. It'll definitely be nicer, though in some odd way I'll miss our current dwelling and our hermit pothead upstairs neighbor, who likes to hang out his window in fine weather and herald all our comings and goings.

Winter sales

Up at 3:30 A.M., typing with one hand while the baby sleeps on the other arm. She was bothered by something and could not be appeased by half-awake consoling. And I have a cold and need to sip some chamomile tea with honey to soothe my throat.

I keep wanting to make a proper post, with pics and everything, but it's not happening. So I'll just say that I was relatively disciplined during the sales. I was looking to replace a few items that had gotten worn out, to round out a few favored kinds of garments, and to outfit myself properly for the winter. I set as my target A.P.C. because they're good for long-lasting basics--I have a black wool sweater from them that has served me well for 3 or 4 winters or so. And their stuff routinely goes on sale at many outlets. I had a good chance of getting what I needed, especially since I wanted to limit my browsing so as to limit temptation. Over the past few months I only picked up a few vintage plaid shirts at thrift stores, and I saved my pennies for these wardrobe-building acquisitions during the sale season.

The final count: oxford button down, burgundy wool sweater, suede wallet, and boiled wool slippers (this last from Halflinger to replaces ones that had sprung a hole in the heel). All at least 50% off, all expected to last me many, many years.

I'd feel pretty self-congratulatory but that my end-of-summer purchases I posted about months ago ended up being only half successful. I need to report on the disappointing purchases as well to give an accurate portrait of these goings-on (perhaps as a check for blog-induced spending fever?), but that's for another sleepless night.

New wallet

It must have been something like six or seven years ago that I bought a Comme des Garcons ziparound wallet. It was a bright French blue with the classic clover design. I loved the functionality and heft of the wallet and thought my days of replacing wallets every year or so were over.

To my disappointment, this year the paint started flaking and chipping off. I'm guessing it's paint, since the leather is otherwise intact. I kinda expected more, though six years or so of daily usage is better than most.

When the crazily early and deep Netaporter sales came around before Christmas, I decided to replace that wallet with a suede A.P.C. wallet that had been marked down twice. I love how this one fits perfectly in my palm and has all kinds of little pockets for squirreling things away. I have found that it's better to have a wallet that's slightly big for your needs rather one that's overstuffed. Nothing elegant about overstuffed. (speaking of overstuffed, how was everyone's holidays? mine was good. )

So far it's been working out very well for me. It's even more incognito than the CDG wallet, which I've once had someone ask me about. Like the best A.P.C., this wallet is well thought out and quietly stylish.

Method and madness

I have to admit that much of my shopping is fueled by emotion, and when I add insomnia to the mix, the result is far from a French Method, but rather more akin to madness.

So today I have confessions to make.

Confession 1:

In a fit of irrationality, I ordered the Rachel Comey Flippant dress and Blithe tee a few weeks ago. What was I thinking? The dress fit absurdly on me, and I realized how silly it was to try to predict what I might want or be able to wear a year from now. The Blithe tee was actually rather nice, but the sheer part went too low for my clumsy self. I knew before they came that they wouldn't work, but I stubbornly refused to cancel the order. I guess I wasn't yet willing to accept certain realities. Too much madness, not enough method.

Confession 2:
I once found a pair of Salvatore Ferragamo Varinas, in my size and barely worn, for a few dollars at a local thrift store and put it back. It wasn't really my style, and I was determined not to stray from my List, but now I think that a classic piece like that would have been supremely elegant. It would have added some refinement to my wardrobe. At this moment, I could have used less method and more madness.

Confession 3:
I couldn't sleep last night. It was a mistake to eat two waffles, two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and a slice of lasagna an hour before going to bed. So I stayed up surfing as I tried to work out the attack of indigestion. With the sales going on, I came upon a few things. Eep.

Three basics from A.P.C. and a pair of Loeffler Randall Matilde boots in cuoio. Here, I hope I have achieved a balance between method and madness. Instead of the silk button down I had earlier put on my Shopping List, I think the cotton blouses are more trans-seasonal and suitable for my life. The cardigan should come in handy as a layering piece for the winter, when I live in warm sweaters. The boots I had coveted idly for many years and should work well as a transitional shoe this fall. I'll see when they arrive in the next week or so.

[pics: la garconne, creatures of comfort, stuart & wright, bloomingdales]

Digital Harinezumi

Introducing my favorite new accessory: the digital Harinezumi, a toy camera from Japan designed to replicate the look of old photographs and Super 8 film. It's about the size of an old 110 camera, takes photos and video, and can also convert into black and white photography. I figure since I enjoy my Lomo LC-A so much, it would be nice to have another lo-fi camera that takes pics in digital format. This one is small enough to carry with me every day for incidental pictures, like the one above from an end-of-the-year graduate picnic on the lake. The top two pics are just random everyday photographs.

Not me. Part of the Japanese ad campaign, originally posted at the Four Corner Store.

I got the case for it because I plan to be wearing this camera every day and wanted some protection for it, since it's so tiny. And, to be honest, it's just plain adorable.

There's a little hedgehog stamped on the top and a tiny compartment for a spare battery. (harinezumi means hedgehog in Japanese)

It's funny, but I feel much less anxious about purchasing expensive gear than I do clothes. Not sure why that is.

A theory of thrift

While many of my favorite items of clothing are vintage of homemade or no-name origin, my favorite designer thrift find has got to be my Barbour Beaufort jacket. I acquired it in a sleepy small-town Salvation Army down the street from my mother-in-law's house during a stopover on our big cross-country move. I've only recently had a chance to wear it, but it's been perfect for this rainy spring weather. I like the sturdy feel of the construction and the waterproof waxed cotton. So much nicer in a downpour than the Patagonia rain jacket I lived in, when I lived in Seattle.

Another recent find was a Dries Van Noten button-down, which I passed along to T. It's just a simple black button-down, but it has a beautiful drape and a wonderfully aged patina that make it special. And then a few years ago, I found the perfect white button-down made by Thomas Pink in a local Goodwill.

Since these favorite pieces are examples of menswear, my new theory of thrift is that the best designer vintage to be found in lowly secondhand shops is in the men's aisle. Men's clothing eschews trends for the most part and is made to last and be functional, which I think contributes to their lasting appeal 10 or 20 years later when they turn up in these thrift shops. Of course, it must help that they're not as nearly picked over as the women's aisles, either. And maybe men are less likely to go to the trouble of selling their discarded clothes than women.

Though I've found many designer clothes for women, none really appealed to my style. Maybe that's because women's clothing in general is less about functionality and more about decoration and trends. It's not that the vintage looks dated or bad, but that their range of appeal is so much narrower. Thus the Diane Von Furstenberg silk leopard-print skirt, the Comme des Garcons perma-crinkled shirt, and the Versace tee I discovered in my thrifting forays were all bypassed or eventually given away or sold. 

Anyway, I can't really discuss designer vintage finds without mentioning the Hermes loafers I found in a Goodwill on the Microsoft side of Seattle. It was just a bit too big even with socks, and I must have gotten rid of them during a ruthless cull pre-move. Sob. That was an example of classic women's design, but alas, it wasn't meant to be.

History professor Michael Prokopov offers his own theory of thrift in an NYT article about flea markets. He says, “Flea markets proliferate a volume of goods needing to be sold and people who are hungry — emotionally and aesthetically — to sort out the meaning of life. . . . For most people who go on these ritualized scavenger hunts looking for something that they may not know exists, it is a kind of pilgrims’ process through the detritus of the past.” Even the journalist quoting him had to raise an eyebrow at that academic heavy lifting, but it's an interesting thought nonetheless.

Modus operandi

Rather than working from a list, I find the most successful purchases are made when I simply give in to some intense, inexplicable desire.  That's how I find the mainstays of my wardrobe, the objects that give me joy to wear.  These I'll end up wearing them again and again.  It's when I try to consciously fill a hole in my wardrobe that I end up getting something that's wrong or uninspired.

So a pink terry cloth jumpsuit is probably not the first thing that comes to mind when you think of "capsule wardrobe" or "French method" of dressing, but I circled around this item for so long and so often that I knew it might work out.  It's from Wood Wood, a Danish design company that makes clothes with just the right amount of quirky.

I figure if I don't end up liking it when it arrives in the mail from Creatures of Comfort, I'll just wear it around the house.  I like wearing one pieces that I just haul on and forget about.  The boy hates them, though.  :P

Granny shoes

I like granny shoes. What can I say. I like the orthopedic wedges, the go-with-everything tan color, the nerdy-cute look. So when I saw these for sale on Etsy, I sprung, even though I hate to buy things that I think I could find myself in the thrift store. The problem is, I never do.

I picture these with my blue corduroys, hems dragging in the interminable Seattle rain.