October 9-15, 2003

naked city

The Mighty Pen

Papery doll: Carolyn Brandhorst wants you to put down the BlackBerry and start writing letters again. Photo By: Michael T. Regan

A new shop celebrates the art of writing.

by A.D. Amorosi

The physical act of writing may soon be lost in the rapid display of thumb dexterity that is text messaging, BlackBerrying and other epigrammatic forms of communication. The art of scribing letters and typing lengthy missives has been set aside in favor of typing smiley faces and sending depersonalized invitations to weddings and parties through e-mail.

To combat the computer-generated communiqué and to acquaint younger audiences with the manners and etiquette of another generation, Carolyn Brandhorst is opening The Papery in Old City. The cozy, slender brownstone shop (it used to be Philly's own Penn Stationers) will sell the very best brands of paper, pens, invitations and initial wax stamps. Brandhorst hopes her wares will help win the battle over the static-filled cell-phone call and the e-birthday wish.

Going against the Internet grain may seem insane, but Brandhorst is at least willing to try. My one uncle thought the Internet would kill the personalized stationery industry. The other thought we would thrive even more, laughs Brandhorst. [Everyone] said we were nuts opening a fine stationary store in the e-age well, I disagree.

She knows that despite the haste necessary to a 21st-century existence, people have a tactile nature and a desire to implement something personal into their lives. Perhaps, in this day and age, they crave it. We're selling all the bells and whistles of the stationary business, Brandhorst says, from Crane's products (one of the oldest stationers in the U.S., open since 1801), which Brandhorst says have grown to be more hip, to stationary from oh-so-now designer Kate Spade. Besides, if you want fast, The Papery -- with on-site printing and personalized engraving -- can turn monogrammed note cards and invitations around in a single day.

A second generation stationary enthusiast, Brandhorst, 39, followed the lead of her two uncles, Michael and Lou Ferrarese, in opening a Papery in Philadelphia. The Bronx natives had been in the card industry for more than 30 years, selling goods akin to Hallmark's, until they opened The Papery's first shop in Greenwich, Conn., in 1998. The longer my uncles were in Greenwich, the more they saw a need for the higher end, Brandhorst notes.

So The Papery, with its insistence on emblems of dignity and etiquette, was born into an area filled with moneyed adults. But the family soon saw that younger folks also wanted the personalized identification of monogrammed note cards, wax initials, well-appointed appointment books, journals and writing implements not made by Bic. We saw that people, young as much as old, men as much as women, liked nice things that showed who they were apart from the everyday, says Brandhorst.

As for the rules of etiquette and the elements of grace that The Papery stresses, Brandhorst says that really anything goes when people are making their stationary personal. But, she finds, most people end up craving tradition: When people hear what the old-school rules are, they want to do it by the book.

Along with helping customers personalize their stationary,The Papery sells tony merchandise from designers like Spade (agendas, writing paper, wallets), leather Aurora pens from Italy (they range in cost from $35 to $225), roller pens from Retro 51, desk accessories and motion pens by Jac Zagoory Designs, heavy paper box cards by j. faye of Philadelphia and Remnants of Haddonfield and leather- and fabric-covered frames by Helene Batoff Interiors. The store also sells inkwells and luxurious leather journals.

The Papery can also provide accessories that let you be a part of the current monogramming craze. The hot fonts are thin, clean, modern and uppercase. You can get them printed on anything from The Papery's own cool, personalized note cards to wax initial seals, oil-burning bottles and wax sticks that colorfully encrust the backs of the very best letters. They're our rarest item, says Brandhorst. They look like they'd come in handy if one needed to send out a dueling notice.

Brandhorst has still more reasons why taking pen to paper is still a viable (and vital) form of communication. It's those messages you want to mean more, she says. Maybe I'm different, but I like to save things. Are you going to save an e-mail someone sent you? That doesn't sound [like a] very interesting item to save. Do you want to just jot e-mail notes, or keep ideas in a great journal? Much like those wax initial seals, Brandhorst says a formal letter is a great way to leave a lasting impression.

The Papery, 57 N. Third St., 215-922-1500.