Not even a bad idea. Just… dust.

I’ve sat in front of a blank sheet of paper, an open Illustrator file, or a table full of materials—my heart pounding, a deadline looming—and had the overwhelming feeling that I have nothing to offer. Not today. Maybe not ever again.

And that’s terrifying when your job is to make something out of nothing.

But after more than a decade of creating custom stationery for clients who want to be known and remembered, I’ve realized something important:

Feeling stuck doesn’t mean you’re broken.
It means you’re paying attention.

It means I’m listening to myself and the world around me. Owning that the idea isn’t quite ripe yet—or maybe it’s still undiscovered.

So what do I do when I’m stuck?

Here are a few things that work for me. Not all at once. And not perfectly. But they get me moving again:

1. I make something small (with no expectations)

Sometimes I grab scraps from the studio floor—literal throwaways—and try to make something interesting. A collage. A sketch. A note to myself.

It doesn’t have to be good. It just has to exist.

The pressure to create something worthy is often what stops me. So I make something unworthy on purpose. This can get the block moving.

2. I work with my hands

When I’m in my head too much, my hands remind me what I’m capable of.

Even folding paper or cleaning my workspace helps (and my studio always needs cleaning). It gets me back in my body. And once I’m there, ideas tend to find me again.

3. I tell someone what I’m stuck on

This one’s big. Saying the problem out loud—even in a voice memo to myself—starts to unknot it.

Sometimes I’ll call a friend. Other times, I’ve hired someone to help me see the bigger picture when I’ve lost it. Getting unstuck doesn’t have to be a solo sport.

4. I remind myself that silence doesn’t mean absence

The muse doesn’t always talk loud.
Sometimes she just sets things in motion quietly. I’ve learned to trust that.

It’s not always easy. But it’s almost always true.

If you’re a creative and in one of those dry spells right now…

You’re not alone. It’s not just you. And it’s not a flaw.

If you want help sorting through the mental clutter, I offer something called a Spark Session—a one-hour call for creatives who feel stuck, foggy, or disconnected from their voice. It’s part clarity session, part reset button, and it’s helped some really incredible people get moving again.

???? You can book one here.

Or keep making small things.
They count too.

The post When the Well Runs Dry: How I Keep Creating When I Feel Completely Stuck appeared first on A Fine Press.

I’m not sure whether or not this is a hot take, but:
The invitation isn’t for you.

It’s not for your mom, your planner, your executives, or even your Pinterest board.
It’s for the person holding it.

The invitation is the first moment your people get to feel what their experience of your event might be like. It’s a chance to shift their emotional state—to spark joy, curiosity, awe, wonder, nostalgia, or anticipation. When done right, it doesn’t just tell them what’s coming.
It changes how they show up for it.

I call what I make holy shit stationery for a reason. That phrase doesn’t describe the design style.
It describes the reaction.
The moment of pause. The catch in the throat. The widening of the eyes.
When someone opens it, looks up, and says:
“Holy shit… this is for me?”

But most invitations aren’t made this way.

Most are made to show off—to say “look how much I spent” or “look how stylish I am.”
The problem? That misses the whole point.

Because if the guest doesn’t feel seen, if they don’t feel something shift in them…
…it’s just expensive paper (or polymer, or wood, or, or, or…).

Designing for the recipient means thinking like them. Feeling what they feel.
It’s about stepping outside your own ego and stepping into their shoes.

Here’s how I think about your invitations:

1. Emotion First

What do we want them to feel the moment this arrives in their hands?
Surprise? Elegance? Edge? Mystery? Comfort?
That emotional fingerprint is the foundation.

2. Material as Meaning

Texture, weight, scent, sound—these aren’t surface-level details.
They’re signals.
A bespoke fabric box doesn’t say luxury.
It says intimacy.
A mirrored foil doesn’t say “cool.”
It says “this moment reflects you, too.”

3. Designing Time

An invitation doesn’t just communicate a date.
It begins the countdown.
It stretches time—it builds anticipation, nudges imagination, creates space for transformation.
It’s not a preview. It’s part of the experience.

When you start with the recipient in mind, everything changes.

Design becomes more than aesthetics—it becomes empathy made manifest.
It becomes a way of honoring your people.
Of saying: You matter enough for this to be unforgettable.

That’s what I mean when I say holy shit stationery.

It’s a shift.
It’s a story.
It’s a holy shit moment.

And that changes everything.

Curious what your version of holy shit stationery might look like? Let’s talk.

The post Your Invitation Isn’t For You. appeared first on A Fine Press.

After having announced that I’m not a printer, that information seems a little irrelevant over here.

To be clear, I still work amongst decades-old printing presses that sing their siren song. I operate them, in fact. When there’s printing to be done, I do it.

But the question that’s at least somewhat more relevant is “How much should I spend on wedding invitations.”

There are all sorts of places that will give you a dollar figure answer to that question. The Knot will tell you the average cost is a whopping $386. I’m sure that number is heavily influenced by big-box stationers. Brides Magazine has an incredibly peculiar article out there saying you should expect to pay $5,000-$8,000. It’s an incredible range that doesn’t even take into consideration true outliers. It’s also incredibly confusing, which is why I think this is the more important question:

What do you value?

As a point of reference, my clients usually spend anywhere from $10,000 – $35,000 or more on their wedding stationery. In addition to invitations, that includes all the awesome things we make for their big day – placecards and menus, welcome packets, etc.

The reason they do this is that they value the experience we help them provide their guests enough to invest that kind of money into an unforgettable inviting experience. Those numbers might represent 2% of their overall budget, but they might also be upwards of 30%.

If you don’t value stationery, I have no interest in convincing you otherwise.

Let me walk that back a bit – I think it’s worth considering that, if you don’t value it, you’re doing it wrong. Wedding invitations that do little more than tell your guests the who, what, where, and when are destined for the trash can. You can do better than that at any budget.

But, if you’re hosting a quarter-million-dollar wedding and don’t care about stationery, there are plenty of big-box retailers that will give you cheap invitations and that’s completely valid. On the flip side, if you care deeply about the mailbox moment your guests have, you might allot a substantial portion of your budget to the most incredible custom experience.

Whatever your budget is, my most important piece of advice is this:

Be intentional

With the number of designers out that that don’t charge what they’re worth there’s no excuse for a generic experience at any budget. Create something that is so uniquely yours that people will know where it came from before they even open it.

And, if you want to make them say “holy sh*t” when they do, contact me. I’ll make you something they’ll remember you by.

The post How Much Should I Spend on Wedding Invitations? appeared first on A Fine Press.

I was invited to an industry event recently, presented by an organization I wasn’t familiar with. From what I can tell, it was their big annual event, maybe even a fundraiser.

It was close enough to attend without an overnight stay and, judging by the friends I knew who were attending, it was likely to be a pretty fruitful night of networking.

The problem is, I had no idea I was invited.

This particular organization fell prey to the allure of the lowest-friction form of messaging: facebook event invites.

Low friction meant it took almost no effort to get their message to my virtual front door. Most people would probably consider that win. The problem is, the accompanying lack of traction meant I never actually opened the door and saw the message.

I literally had no idea.

The signal to noise ratio on low-friction (free and easy) communication is so low that I have learned to tune most of it out. There’s literally no way to cut through the noise if the speakers aren’t even on.

The IRL, physical mail used to be like that, but have you noticed your mailbox being stuffed less and less these days? Mass marketers can spray-and-pray for much less money online, and so junk mail is on the decline.

That means the mailbox is a perfect place to surprise and delight your audience.

This is how you get them to RSVP.

I know, it sounds like a trap, coming from a guy that makes stationery for a living, but actually surprising and delighting your people with a thoughtful, meaningful invitation is the best way to make sure people are aware of the awesome party you’re throwing.

And, whether it’s a wedding, a fundraiser, or a corporate holiday party, adding a little friction to the inviting process gives you all the traction you need to get their attention.

Whether or not you have a luxury budget, invest in your people by sending them real, physical invitations that feel like a gift; you can guarantee they’ll know they were invited!

The post Here’s Why No One’s Coming To Your Party appeared first on A Fine Press.

It’s the kind I used to get all the time. I don’t get them often anymore.

Someone needed stationery printed.

Notice – I didn’t say “someone needed stationery.” They needed it printed because they already had the design and the specs laid out. They knew the colors and the papers and needed someone to execute it.

I am not that guy.

Perhaps I used to be, but I’ve realized over the years that the things that make A Fine Press what it is aren’t the things that make for a profitable print shop.

• I’m not hellbent on efficiency – I like the herky-jerky nature of the creative process.
• I’m not interested in doing the same thing every day – repetition breeds efficiency and makes a print shop profitable.
• I’m less interested in the paper than how the recipient experiences that paper.

I’m not a printer.

What I do is make compelling stationery for bold and daring clients. People willing to consider ideas they’ve never heard before.

So I’ve built a process that’s not centered on efficiency or savings. It’s built on exploration and experimentation. It’s laser-focused on creating transformation in the relationships my clients have with the recipients of my work.

My people don’t know what their stationery will look like. They know what the world will look like with their stationery in it.

It’s an easy thing to say, but a fairly hard thing to live. Most people don’t have a way to categorize me. I’m not like the printers or designers they’ve encountered.

That’s one of the reasons I’ve started referring to A Fine Press as a multi-disciplinary studio that specializes in stationery and brand expression.

Because I have no desire to be confined to “invitations” or “business cards” or even “letterpress.”

When we start with the fewest assumptions possible – a function (what it needs to say or do), and emotion (how it should make people feel) and a vocabulary (the visual style and/or the literal words) – when we start with that, we can explore the edges and make daring, unconventional stationery that elicits a “holy $#!%” from the people you seek to impact.

It’s not easy, but it’s a ton of fun.

The post I am not a printer appeared first on A Fine Press.

It’s a ritual that can be seen in cards by Yves Saint Laurent, Princess Di, and many others.

It’s something that I think not enough people do anymore and, in my opinion, it’s a ritual we should get back to. It is, like all rituals, meaningful.

Crossing out your printed name in a note or card to someone creates a sense of wonder for the person who gets it. It’s like a code.

What’s codified is a message that says “you are important to me.”

When you cross out your name you are essentially telling that person that you could have been doing anything else but chose to take the time to send them something personal. A greeting, advice, a plan, a wish.

So the next time you send someone personal a piece of professional stationery, cross out the honorific and your last name and remind that person that to them, you are just you.

The post A Way to Say “I Love You” appeared first on A Fine Press.

But sometimes you just have to tear some paper.

One of the things I’ve encountered often on my journey is designs that work well on a screen that have very serious challenges when it comes to existing IRL.

Effects and floods of color and layers that render in perfect 4K resolution just don’t translate.

But when I started working with Chase Wagner and his team at Grace City Music on a promotional piece for their new album, I took this great promotional image as a challenge:

How could we incorporate this striking layout into a printed piece?

Like most projects I undertake, I know it was possible, but not entirely sure how. The logistics of partial glue-ups and trimming uneven layers of paper make for a printer’s nightmares.

Luckily, I thrive on the chaos.

I landed on a process based on my go-to low-quantity duplex method: gluing up with Super77 spray adhesive. The challenge was how to create an area where the front sheet could be torn away and the sheet behind it exposed, free of glue.

The solution was fairly simple – a strip of very thin torn paper provided a mask for the glue, preventing adhesion and giving us an area to tear away without residue.

I’m incredibly happy with how this came to be – it looks pretty much exactly like the vision I had from the onset – but more important is the impact we can create with a piece like this.

If the goal is to be noticed and remembered, I have to make noticeable and memorable stationery.

I think the key to being noticed – to creating a true mailbox moment – comes from fresh vision. It’s unusual methods or materials or execution. It’s stationery so thick it has to be shipped in a box or an execution normally saved for one domain (digital design) applied to another (print).

Being remembered is something else. It’s about creating something that feels like a gift to the recipient. I normally eschew the use of logos in the quest, but music (and fashion) are very different worlds where the logo is a badge of honor. So we worked on creating just the kind of notecard that you’d not only want to keep, but proudly display.

What do you think? Did we do it?

The post Tearing it All Up appeared first on A Fine Press.

But that model can’t sustain every project I want to do. Sure, there’s something to be said for being lean, but there’s also something to be said for having the mass to be able to make things happen.

So, this semester, I’ve taken the first step by bringing on Marcos Martins as my intern from Florida Southern College. I’ll let him introduce himself:

Hello! My name is Marcos and I am Matthew’s new intern. I am a Theatre/Communications major at my college and I am looking to pursue a career in event planning or hospitality management. I came across A Fine Press on a local website that connects interns with internship opportunities. I came in for an interview over Summer and have been working here since the semester started. In the past few weeks, I’ve done a multitude of things from organizing old work samples to brainstorming future videos. Most of the time, Matthew and I discuss ideas for future projects and marketing. Probably my favorite thing that we’ve done so far is turn an old light-up sign into a decorational shelf that looks pretty awesome. You might have seen it in the background of one of his videos! This semester I plan to learn everything I can about completing projects, interacting with clients, and marketing the business. I hope to keep in touch through blog posts and videos. Bye for now!

What he didn’t tell you is that I almost fried myself trying to light that thing up!

It’s been a wonderful adjustment to lean into the shift from solopreneur/artisan to business. It’s a transition not without its bumps and turns, but I’m thrilled to have Marcos along for the ride. Say hi, will ya?

The post It’s a Little Less Quiet in the Studio These Days appeared first on A Fine Press.

It could be my love affair with Parks and Recreation.

It could be my mancrush on Jimmy DiResta (Nick Offerman’s not so bad, either).

I won’t spoil it for you here, don’t worry, but one of the things that thrilled me was the inclusion of Simon Doonan as a judge. Simon works in what I believe to be about the highest form of commercial art+craft there is – the store window. Simon’s work ar Barney’s is absolutely iconic and should be an inspiration to every person in the event industry.

It was a similarly iconic window – that of Bergdorf Goodman – that brought me to the work of Benjamin Shine.

This work is just so dreamy!

It reminds me in some ways of Vik Muniz in his use of largely unaltered “common” materials to create images that go way beyond the “if I squint, I can see it.” These are stunning representations of people (mostly) crafted in the most unconventional ways.

Take, for instance, this pill-pack portrait:

photo by the artist

I’ll give you ten guesses what it’s made of.

another photo by the artist

This one is incredible to me for the way he gets those colors – it’s the angle at which the pennies are mounted that uses the ambient light to illuminate and camouflage different areas of the crest.

But it’s certainly those stunning tulle works that do it for me.

I’m fascinated by the story, the process, and the execution. It’s all so entrancing.

I wish more designers and marketers and event professionals paid deep attention to people like Benjamin and the work he’s doing.

This work is engaging an experiential and just ripe for these professionals to turn into head-turning, attention-garnering work for their clients.

What would you do with techniques like these?

The post He Made What With What? appeared first on A Fine Press.

I felt a little uneasy the entire time, but I powered through it.

It hurt like hell – both my hands and my heart (a little) – but I powered through.

I tore the edges of a piece I was making and

I faked a deckled edge paper.

The term “deckle” describes one of my favorite things in the world – the “point” cut of a beef brisket. It also describes one of my second-favorite things:

A deckle is the frame used to define the size of a sheet of handmade paper.

It’s paired with a mould (screen on a frame) to arrange the fibers floating in a slurry into a usable sheet of paper.

Well, it comes out soaking wet and needs some serious drying (and shrinking) first, but you get the point.

So that’s why it’s called “Deckled Edge?”

Yep.

Ashley Holstein’s Deckled-Edge Business Cards

The edges of a sheet of handmade paper betray the papermaking process, as the fibers of the sheet form a soft edge in the general area of where the deckle’s edges met the paper on the mold.

You can see the process here:

So, Why All the Drama?

You may have noticed, I’m not quite like other stationers you’d encounter. I’m pretty lax on etiquette, but very dogged about meaning.

WHY do you choose one paper over another? One color over another? One process over another?

In an age where no one truly needs printed goods, it’s imperative that your stationery have real meaning. Otherwise, why invest the money at all?

Authenticity Matters

So, that means making choices using deeper criteria than “I like it” or “because it’s pretty.”

Your stationery is a proxy for you, representing you when you’re not there.

So the decisions you make about it should reflect you.

And a part of that relates to what you value. If you value process and intention and craft, a deckled edge sheet might be for you.

But, in my mind, choosing the look of a deckled edge paper, faked by tearing the edges of a machine-made sheet, is a throwaway. It says you value “pretty,” but not the process.

It lacks honesty or authenticity.

I know, I know – it’s heady and idealistic.

I’ll cop to that.

The post The WHY of Deckled Edges appeared first on A Fine Press.

The key takeaway was this:

If someone insists on experiencing your experience before you give them the experience, it’s really unlikely you’re going to be able to delight them.

I say the timing was incredible because this comes the morning after episode 82 of This Week in Weddings aired, the episode where I chatted with Kimberly Rhodes and Annie Roche about how to bring clients along in the journey of creating truly custom work.

Listen Here

See, I believe that in order to be noticed and remembered, you have to create a true moment of connection. In stationery, I encourage my clients to do that with a healthy dose of surprise and delight wrapped up in their personality.

Their stationery should clearly be theirs, even if their name doesn’t appear on it anywhere.

Your stationery is a proxy for you – for your relationship with your people. What does it say about you?

See, I’m pretty all-or-nothing with this stuff.

Take business cards for example.

Do you really need a business card in order to conduct business in the 21st century?

If you live in Japan, I’d say definitely. Elsewhere? Not so much.

So, if it’s unnecessary, why do we still do it? If it’s because you think you’re supposed to, quit wasting your money and stop buying them.

BUT…

If you still buy business cards because you want your contacts to remember you, consider this: how memorable is your card?

If your goal is truly to be noticed and remembered – to get someone to think of you after you’re gone – that takes real effort.

And the effort to extract from you what your ideal client relationship looks like and distill it into printed form, approximately 3.5″ x 2″, takes a lot of work.

That’s what you invest in.

Sure, the production costs something, but to get a business card (or wedding invitation or letterhead) that truly represents you takes more than fancy design and smooshy letterpress.

It takes art and skill and craft. It takes emotional work on your part and mine.

That’s why my clients invest in the concept with a retainer. Because that’s where the magic is. The rest is execution.

And all of the cool combinations of process and technique and materials in the world don’t mean a thing if they don’t represent you.

• So, you want a copper wedding invitation? Why?
• You want a geode cake? What does it have to do with you?
• You want acrylic business cards? What does it say about your business?

When you invest up front and keep an open mind, that’s when you get the chance to experience true delight.

The post This Week in Weddings appeared first on A Fine Press.

And a very big thanks to Tim Ku for his patience as I gathered some things to send to him for this feature.

And what great company to be in! The work of Luminous Design Group, PP Wedding Design, and Idyll Paper is all incredible and I’m thankful to be among them in this gorgeous issue!

In the meantime, if you could translate this for me, I’d be eternally grateful!

The post Featured in Harpers Bazaar Hong Kong appeared first on A Fine Press.

When Ashley called to discuss her vision for her wedding, I was SO excited to explore the possibilities for their invitation. She and Paul compliment each other in so many ways and the yin and yang of their relationship became a recurring theme throughout their celebration.

While they reside in NYC, Ashley and Paul chose to get married in New Orleans with a perfect French Quarter wedding. It was, after all, where they first went away together. Brooke Casey did an impeccable job crafting a celebration that was both modern/industrial and ultra-luxe simultaneously.

When I work with a couple to draw out their style and fix it in the form of an invitation, I’m always listening for the little things – sometimes a bride will mention something seemingly in passing, but the way her voice shifts as she says it betrays its importance to her, even if subconsciously. When describing their style (I like to start with a couple’s home – their design choices in the space they inhabit), Ashley referenced things like big gold mirrors and red velvet in an industrial space.

And we ran with it.

For their wedding invitation, we combined foil stamping and letterpress for a somewhat traditional front. The back became an art piece for their guests – a panel of red velvet damask on a gold background of coarse-fibred paper.

We created some contrast in shape by scalloping the RSVP card and added another layer of texture with a blind impression letterpress map of New Orleans that pointed guests to their lodging and the festivities.

We lined the envelope with one of the couple’s photos of their stunning venue, Race & Religious – a building synonymous with the French Quarter.

Published!

What a treat it was to see the photos by Shelly Anderson published in Junebug weddings recently. Head over to their feature to see the rest of the photos from this gorgeous celebration and scroll to the bottom to get to know the team that made this possible.

And you can click here for more on the invitation itself.

Photography – Shelly Anderson Photography
Second Shooter – Calvin Gavion Jr.
Event Planning – Brooke Casey Weddings
Venue – Race & Religious
Floral Design – Antigua Floral
Catering – Joel’s Catering
Cake – Melissa’s Fine Pastries
Officiant – Steve Trahan of Sensational Ceremonies
Live Music – Phunky Monkeys
Videography – Lonely Eskimo Films
Stationery – A Fine Press
Makeup Artist – Melissa Vaccaro
Hair Styling – Ali Vasquez
Wedding Dress – Berta, Jenny Packham
Bridal Accessories – Maria Elena Headpieces, Melissa Kaye Jewelry
Bridesmaids’ Apparel – Parker NY, BHLDN, Marchesa, Tadashi Shoji
Groom’s Apparel – Charles Tyrwhitt
Rings – Yohan Abrial Joaillier Createur
Rentals – Luminous Events
Styled Lounges – Distressed Rentals and Revival
Chairs – Event Rental
Ceremony Music – Tanya Huang 
Linens – Lovestruck Linens

The post A Luxury Wedding in the French Quarter appeared first on A Fine Press.

That’s right.

Zazzle.com is not offering custom postage right now.

I have several friends with open orders left in limbo – yikes!

And while I far prefer vintage or thoughtfully curated modern postage to having a 2D barcode plastered on your invitations, custom postage can be a nice way to finish off an invitation.

If I recall correctly, Zazzle may have been the very first to offer custom postage (feel free to comment if it was someone else) and their temporary pause on the service (and apparent quibbles with the USPS) might mean our other options might follow suit.

Of course, it’s a story in-progress. This information is so new that the USPS website still lists Zazzle first as a provider of custom postage. (the two other services have clearly merged into one, so this may be more an issue of slow-moving bureaucracy than bleeding-edge journalism).

So what do you do?

If you ask me, I will almost always recommend curated postage. There are some great companies offering that pre-curated sets and custom picking (though there can be a substantial lead time). Consider Vintage Postage Shop, Pack and Post, Little Postage House, or Treasure Fox.

But maybe you desperately want to have your monogram perched next to a gangly QR code at the top of your invite – Can you tell how I feel about it?

As I’m writing this, stamps.com is still a great option. Shutterfly and Minted are good options, too.

I’m not sure how long this will last, but I wouldn’t doubt if the other providers follow suit and (temporarily) cease offering custom postage before this all gets worked out.

If you’re planning your stationery right now, consider getting an order in today before things go further south with this.

Good luck!

The post Custom Postage Just Took a Hit appeared first on A Fine Press.

For some people, it happens all the time. Others, not so much.

I’d like to think I can have an engaging conversation with almost anyone (especially if it’s in-person – body language helps a ton!). Then I meet someone like Mark Gai.

I had the opportunity to join him on his podcast, Speak Brave, recently. We had an incredibly engaging conversation that took some twists and turns I wasn’t expecting – what can I say, I’m an improviser!

Mark and his producer, John Morrow, are fellow Toastmasters. They’re both, shall we say, more seasoned than I am and are great mentors in my journey to communicate more clearly.

We chatted for about half an hour about how I approach life and my work. It all stems from this desire for more meaningful ritual in my life. I find that every time I get the opportunity to talk about this with people, I learn something new about myself and this time was no different.

Listen to our conversation and leave Mark a review, if you’d be so kind.

Till next time!

The post Getting to the Heart of It appeared first on A Fine Press.

Did you do it?

I think it’s a rite of passage to spend your grade school years filling a notebook with subtle permutations of your very own name. Exploring the letterforms – their shapes and the beautiful interstitial spaces.

At some point, we become aware of the fact that our own names exist in the strange place between written word and Art with a capital “A,” affixed in time and space like a logo. It carries weight beyond its phonics. It’s a proxy for our very own presence and word.

But it wasn’t until my mid-teens that it really meant anything.

The first time my signature mattered was on my driver’s license. Sometimes I wonder why anyone let 16-year-old me behind the wheel of a car.

But there it was, affixed on laminated paper (or maybe we had graduated to a thin plastic sheet already, I can’t recall): the illegible scribbles of a teen with more power than sense.

It was a nearly effortless tangle of alternating vertical slashes and little loops. You could spot the M and the E and the W – Matthew Eli Wengerd – there was even a descender for the G and some semblance of a D.

the signature of my youth

And, like many people, maybe like you, my signature didn’t change much after that. It looked nearly the same on my college application and my marriage license and, even though the resolution is never adequate, it even looked much the same on the tiny screen of a credit card terminal.

It’s that little terminal that might spell the death of the signature as a cultural staple.

With a recent change to the way credit card transactions are handled, the signature may all but disappear from everyday life.

But, much like the antiquated technologies that power the antique presses in the studio, I believe that the death of the signature marks the beginning of a new life.

A few years ago, I cracked open a used copy of the inimitable George Lois’ Sellebrity, a book full of stories that would make Don Draper blush or seethe with envy. It’s written as a series of vignettes, each numbered. I flipped the page to No. 76 and was stopped cold.

Bidder’s gorgeous signature

There, in fountain pen blue, was the signature of The Four Seasons‘ Alex von Bidder.

It was at once architectural and soft. It was artfully masculine and stylish.

It was just what I needed!

So, somewhere in my archives, you’ll find a Field Notes notebook with about a dozen pages of exploration and practice. How can I craft a mark as commanding as this?

And, while I never got all the way to where I was going, I believe that perfect is the enemy of done and I adopted this new mark as my own. It takes nearly twice as long to execute as my uneducated doctor scrawl of the past, but I think it suits me much better.

my new signature

And that brings us to today. The new era of the signature.

As the muscle memory that crafts their signature atrophies, I’ll be writing notes of gratitude and memory, placing my mark as my proxy at the end, reminding the recipient that this note was crafted by human heart and hand.

The post The Signature is Dead, Long Live the Signature appeared first on A Fine Press.

There. I said it.

And the collective world of stationers just lost their minds.

//

I don’t know if you’re aware, but stationers are a strange lot. They live and die by Emily Post and Pantone’s color of the year.

You noticed it, didn’t you? I said “they,” not “we.”

I live by a different code.

And I believe the spirit of the rules is far more important than the rules themselves.

And, to quote the stationer’s bible:

Etiquette is about treating people with consideration, respect, and honesty—attitudes that will help you to set the tone for the perfect day.

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So, my clickbait got you here and you’re wondering

When is it OK to not send invitations?

I don’t have any easy answers, but I’ll tell you this:

We all get junk mail. Maybe less today than we did five years ago, but we all get it. If what you’re planning to send could barely be differentiated from your local consignment store’s grand opening invitation, you might be better off sending a digital wedding invitation.

If you just don’t care about paper (Gah! I really don’t get it, but I get it), you should consider putting the $400 or $1000 you were going to begrudgingly spend on invitations into something that improves your guests’ experience. Use it to make your big day even more inviting.

That’s treating people with consideration!

Honestly, if your guestlist consists entirely of millennials and xennials, there’s a chance you won’t even get your stamped, printed RSVPs back. It breaks my heart, it really does, but it’s the truth.

On the other hand, if you’re inviting aunts and uncles and your parents’ colleagues, I’d argue that you’re breaking the spirit of the rule.

Know your audience.

I think we’re definitely trending to a place where it’s acceptable to send a digital wedding invitation. I’ll bet within ten years (maybe that’s optimistic), Emily Post(‘s descendants) will agree.

But. If you do choose to send paper invitations (and I hope you do!):

Be thoughtful.

Seriously. Send them at the right time (too early and they might lose excitement, too late and it’s not enough notice). Communicate clearly. Don’t leave your guests guessing about things.

Be different.

Don’t send another piece of junk mail. Invest the money and time to make something that delights your guests.

Be authentic.

If they can’t tell it’s yours before they read the names, you missed your chance. The same is true of the wedding itself. You are a unique and wonderful couple. Everything about your big day, including the stationery, should shout that!

Of course, I hope you send real, unique, authentically-you invitations.

But I don’t think it’s for everyone and I won’t throw you any shade if you determine it’s not for you.

Know the rules and when to break them.

The post You Don’t Have to Send Wedding Invitations. appeared first on A Fine Press.

It stands in for you when you’re not there.

Whether it’s your business card or the invitation to the biggest day of your life, your stationery should be undeniably yours. So you that people would recognize it even if your name was nowhere to be found.

It should represent you well.

I think one of the most important things stationery can do to represent you is to be generous.

Because most business and social stationery is self-focused: here’s MY information, call me. Here are the details to MY wedding – show up (gift in-hand).

It’s emblazoned with your logo, your name, your monogram.

That’s the stuff that gets thrown away.

You know what doesn’t get thrown away? A gift.

When you’re generous with your stationery, it becomes less about the transaction and more about the relationship.

Your stationery (being you when you’re not there) can become a gift.

What does that look like?

I was talking to a wedding DJ the other day about his business (and his business cards). We talked about what his clients value. For a lot of “older” millennials (or xennials like me), nostalgia is a high priority.

So I asked him: what if the back of his business card had a URL – not his company website, but something like TheBestDanceEver.com?

And when someone went to that website, they could enter their birth year and get a list of the top ten dance songs from the years they were age 16-20, the years that covered their homecoming and prom. The years they transitioned from a kid in the parents’ house to an adult on their own.

Even better, what if that website created a Spotify playlist of those forty songs for them?

You’re googling the top dance songs of your senior year right now, aren’t you?

Stationery is a proxy

It stands in for you when you’re not there.

What does yours say about you?

The post Stationery Is a Proxy appeared first on A Fine Press.

Be Remembered

Let us help you create your stationery story that won’t be forgotten.

Inquire Now

The post Three Ingredients to Stationery They’ll Never Forget appeared first on A Fine Press.

With the exception of Jes Gordon, you’re unlikely to find anyone in the wedding industry who appreciates them as deeply as I do.

The beauty.

The metaphor.

That’s why I was thrilled to hear about Ron Mueck’s show at the National Gallery of Victoria.

If that name sounds familiar, it’s likely that you’re familiar with his figurative sculptures. They’ve been highlighted in dozens of outlets in the last few years.

Having originally seen the figurative works isolated in photos, it never occurred to me the scale at which Mueck was working.

The publicity photos from Mass immediately betray the scale. These skulls require your attention. They make their presence known.

Perhaps a trip to Melbourne is in order?

The post Giant Human Skulls appeared first on A Fine Press.

That gap between the known and the unknown.

I’m not talking about living life full-on in the unknown, but the place that bridges the two. Where you recognize enough to orient yourself but still get to experience the wonders of the unknown.

It’s at the edges that we experiene life at the fullest. Where new opportunities arise.

It’s where magic is made.

It’s easy to say that. It’s not always easy to live it.

The known brings comfort and safety – things we’re hardwired to seek. Maslow has a hold on us. Shelter. Safety. Tribe.

For me, safety looks like the business card in your wallet right now.

It looks like the fancy invitation you got to some forgettable wedding last year (long-since recycled).

Safety is a pretty letterpress notecard.

It’s the place people conjure in their mind when I tell them I make stationery.

And it’s wrong.

See, in my mind, I’m living on the edge. Where stationery doesn’t always mean paper.

Where it can mean wood and metal and concrete.

Or even a stuffed fox (please let me make you a stuffed fox invitation).

Where it’s a fantasy world in a glass cloche or a piece cut from a classic car and carefully packaged. Meant for keeping and remembering.

Because if I make you an invitation from the known, it will quickly be forgotten.

If you hand your prospect a card from the known, it hits the trashcan before her phone is done processing your contact information. You’re one of a sea of contacts.

But when we explore the edges?

When I craft for you something that bridges the known and the unknown, it rises you above. It is (and, by association, you are) remembered.

Balancing the known and the unknown is a challenge. Sometimes it’s rearranging the familiar in unexpected ways.

Sometimes it’s a known format and unknown form.

Exploring the edges can be hard to understand.

When I say I’m a stationer, it conjures a certain image. One that’s far removed from reality. It’s the known. The crowd. It’s what you see on Oh So Beautiful Paper.

But its not what I do.

So, what do I call myself, then?

I was talking to Parris this week and he said I sound more like an Imagineer than a stationer. He might be right.

If not that, though, what?

I’m not sure I have an answer. But if you do, I’d love to hear it.

The post What do I call myself? appeared first on A Fine Press.