Some while ago, I wrote at tedious length about how much I admire J. Herbin inks. I also mentioned that the reason I’d discovered these classic French inks was that I’d recently bought myself a new fountain pen. It was made by Parker, the maker of the pens of my youth, and it was rather smart and modern.
I lost it.
No idea how it happened, but the pen is lost and gone forever. In July I replaced it, this time with a Cross Apogee which looks and feels much more like a classic fountain pen such as one might imagine a proper writer using. My writing still looked awful, but I looked so much more suave and sophisticated while I was using it (I’ve tried, incidentally, to alter my handwriting to a more “printed” style to see if that can get rid of the scrawly nature of the handwriting I was taught at school – the jury’s still out on that one).
By now, I have a collection of eleven bottles of J. Herbin’s finest, including Bouton d’or (the French word for the flower we know as the “buttercup”), a shade of yellow so delicate that the ink itself is clear and is almost unreadable on white paper. Guess what my pen has been loaded with for the past month? Perle noire. Black.
I’m sure there was a point to all this when I started, but I’m beggared if I can think of it now. Probably something to do with needing to change the ink in my pen and a vague desire to actually write something in the blog.
That was probably it.