This pen could be your “thing.” Like, you could walk around with a fancy cravat and a monocle and tell people you’d decided to eschew your cell phone. Instead, you’d say haughtily, I’ll be using my ostrich feather pen to write my messages from now on. I’ve employed a carrier pigeon to send them hither and thither. I have a carrier pigeon! As a commitment to this “new” you, you’d abandon your fixed gear bicycle and ride a terribly inconvenient Penny-farthing bike. You’d pedal around town quoting Oscar Wilde while perched precariously on your bicycle handles. “I am so clever that sometimes I don’t understand a single word of what I am saying!” you’d laugh! Eventually, to really complete the mood, you’d move out of your modern apartment into a cold, unheated garret. But as a result of the intemperate clime, you’d develop a dry cough, which would then turn into a wet cough, which would then turn into consumption, or as you like to call it, the “wasting disease.” You’d spend your days languishing, lamenting your situation, and it would be doubly sad, because you’d ruin all of your cravats by staining them with your consumptive blood. Suddenly, a wealthy benefactor would offer you a solution: “taking a cure” at a sprawling countryside sanitarium. There, as you attempted to recover, you’d use your fancy ostrich pen to compose your final “letters” — a witty, at turns sentimental, memoir about the wonderful times you spent with your carrier pigeon, Silas. Silas, you’ll say, you were always my good boy. Go on, Silas, fly away home! Live, Silas! Live!
Yes, for $68 this pen and that life could be yours. But then I’d hate you forever. [Margiela Ostrich Pen, $68]