In much the same way that I cannot walk past a shop selling stationery without entering to buy a notebook, so I cannot resist the storage box. I have notebooks that are so beautiful I daren’t write anything in them. I have dozens of half-finished books, dumped because something more lovely came along. I am a tough date when it comes to stationery. Certainly I have never been good at commitment.
I was going to say that I make only one exception. For my diary. But then I realised even that isn’t true. I had a fairly long term relationship with a black soft back Moleskin; a week to a page with a page for notes. Then last year I found one with exactly the same layout but including an elastic pen holder (no more scrabbling round in the bag to find the pen) WITH A PENCIL INCLUDED, and, joy of joys, it started in October (and ran to the following December/early January. This means no more carrying two diaries about at the end of the year. I fell in instantly in love. Added bonus: half the price. Here. I actually bought mine in a real life local shop (smug face) but that was the link if you want it. They come in loads of colours…
So, storage boxes. It’s a similar scenario. I love the idea of a box that is going to make me instantly tidy. A box where I will know instantly what is inside and so I will never lose anything again. A box of receipts. A box of bills. A box of Very Important Bits of Paper (got loads of those – boxes that is. Actually not so many important bits of paper). Hairclips, paperclips, bulldog clips. Hairslides and slide rules, hair bands and elastic bands. You know the sort of thing.
Those boxes. Love ’em. Here are two more. Galvanised metal and leather. Thirty quid for the set. Done. Ikea’s your Uncle. It really is, it’s not Bob any more, it’s Ikea.
