A Stationer's Account

If I were independently wealthy (something I think about quite often), I would buy stationery.

This is what I decided yesterday, while standing in the stationery section of a local bookstore.

Of course, I make decisions like this several times a day—about what I would do if I were independently wealthy. Sometimes they involve financial planning (I'd pay off a mortgage, invest, save money for future kiddies' college). Oftentimes they're benevolent (I'd start a literacy charity, give money to my family, make the world a better place). And other times, they're just silly.

But beautiful, well-designed stationery is expensive. And if I were independently wealthy, I'd have plenty of time for correspondence between salon appointments and afternoon teas. I could still e-mail, but e-mail is so bourgeoisie and crass. Using hand-crafted, heavy weight stationery is elegant. And I would be an elegant, independently wealthy woman.

Never mind that I had to look up "stationery" to ensure that I didn't say I would purchase lack of movement. I'm sure once your wealth exceeds a certain amount, you get an embossed letter in the mail (on stationery designed just for this purpose, of course) telling you of the requirement to attend Etiquette for Independently Wealthy People classes.

In these classes, I would learn to remember the difference between stationary and stationery, which fork to use, how to air kiss. Maybe, if I were truly lucky, they would also provide us with a list of the very best stationers around the world. With one of my new-found, independently wealthy friends, I could set off on a trip across the globe, sightseeing and picking up the very best in stationery.

For now, I guess I'll have to satisfy myself with ogling the stationery in book stores, and fantasizing about the decadence of having all the stationery I could ever want.