Nothing brings out the Gollum in me more than a glossy sheet of stickers.
My preciousssssssssssss.
Let's be honest: no one outgrows stickers. Whether you are a religious bujo enthusiast or just go old school and plaster Friends references, campaign slogans and maybe even puffy teddy bears or dinosaurs over your phone and laptop, there's something about them that brings out the kid in all of us.
It's like a thumb-sized gateway into Neverland.
So when I discovered Pipsticks the first time (yes, the first time), I was instantly heart eyes. Imagine: a monthly snail mail - yes, that still exists and some of us enjoy the experience! - sticker club with a little envelope of adhesive, multi-colored goodness for you to have all to yourself.
I received a few of these magical missives as a subscriber in the "Pro Club" - that is, the above five years old and possessing their own credit card to fuel their sticker habit demographic. This runs $9.95 a month if you're going for the Petite and seven or more sheets of stickers (and that's where your girl firmly stays because goodness knows I'm not made of money), or $14.95 a month for the Classic Pro Club if you have a rich uncle who just left you a big inheritance and you need fifteen or more sheets of goodness in your life.
I lapsed temporarily due to my fizzling love affair with last year's bullet journal. Maybe I'll blog about it one day but I've realized that I'm too anxious a person and too stretched on time to lavish affection and the finer things in life on one designated Moleskine.
It deserved someone who had brush pens and fancy handwriting and could remember where she kept all her washi tape, and I...deserved a straightforward planner who sees my flaws and loves me anyway and isn't going to inadvertently cause a situation in the classroom because I tried to update my water counter and got distracted from the fight brewing between two desks in the back of the room.
We still stay tentative friends. I occasionally break it out and stroke its cover and think about what it could have been. It holds its silence and its peace and maybe hopes for a reunion in the future.
Anyway, doomed relationships aside...once that obviously wasn't happening, it seemed rather extravagant to keep receiving those little envelopes in the mail. So adieu to my pleasant pouch of Pipsticks.
Until now. Because a new love is on the horizon (stay tuned for my first impressions on my Ban.do 2018-19 planner and don't forget to subscribe!) and my wallet is played to the beat of my heart.
So. This month's mailing deviated from my previous experience in a blessed, beautiful way: a holographic plastic envelope with a SEAL - hold me - which means it is reusable and I can cram all my stickers back in there once I've fanned them out and cackled greedily over their contents. That was pretty cool to say the least.
The stickers that I received include a little collection of sunglasses and accompanying suns, flowers on a conveniently transparent background, an assortment of cats and cameras, umbrellas and rain clouds, and shiny blue butterflies. (You can see a glimpse of most of them in the picture above. I am far too lazy and have poor lighting at the moment, so that is all you get. Alas, alas.)
It's a pretty nice collection and pretty practical, as much as stickers can be. There are a few oversized patterns that I don't see fitting quite well in a planner, but being a teacher means a wider audience to share the power and addictive quality of stickers with and so they won't be left unloved or without a notebook cover to stick on.
If I'm 100% honest with myself, there is no other way to describe this subscription than a luxury, but it's a luxury I can put up with (alongside my Amazon Prime and my Netflix) as one that makes life a little sweeter and more fashionably decorated. The good thing, too, is that it's easy to unsubscribe and leap back in when you're ready for more sticky goodness. It's been months since I had a Pro mailing and my address was still neatly on file and my previous subscription was ready to be rebooted.
And now, I shall leave you to creepily stroke my hand over my hoard of glitter moons and dancing bunnies in Charlie Chaplin mustaches. Thanks for enabling me, Pipsticks.
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