My name is Jeff. I have a Moleskine.

Every so often I buy a product because I know that owning said product will make me into a new and better kind of person. I just know that if I own this new thing, that it will change who I am, it will define me, and allow me to re-present my persona to the world. I will be smarter, funnier, handsomer (as if this were possible!), etc.

The truth is, I like to think that I am above such consumerism. But I'm not. A well marketed product can still tug at my heart strings if the marketing is aimed at my particular niche. And boy, was this ever aimed at my niche.

As of this weekend, I own a Moleskine. Check it out. I feel smarter and hipper already. In your confusion you may think that a Moleskine is simply a plain black notebook with a rubber band around it. No, no, how wrong you would be. You see, according to the marketing flyer that came with my Moleskine, this is the legendary journal that was carried by Picasso, and Hemingway. My friend CW also carries one. Now, I don't really want to be crazy like Picasso, and I hope my writing is a bit more... interesting that Hemingway. Although I would like to be more like CW. I think carrying this notebook will make me more like them. In the future the marketing flyer will also say it was carried by Tell.

I got the ruled notebook, in the pocket size. It fits well in my pocket. Now whenever I am out, and I have a Moleskine-worthy thought, I can quickly jot it down. Although, I have noticed that now I spend less time thinking, and more time analyzing my thoughts to decide which ones are Moleskine-worthy. When I become famous I don't want people looking through my Moleskine and realizing I just had all these mediocre thoughts.

Carrying a Moleskine puts you in an elite class of people. I feel like I should be more picky about the coffee I drink, and possibly more interested in sketching things.

All this happiness and self esteem for only $9.95, quite a bargain!


scribbit said…
I love those guys. And for anyone who hasn't googled it yet, it's pronounced mol-e-skin-uh. But no one will hate you if you mess it up, as I did for so long.

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