| THE EPISTOLARIAN |
Lately I’ve been thinking about how rare it is to really think. Not just remembering passwords or having the monk-like discipline to watch a movie without checking your phone—but to actually stay with a thought long enough that it turns into something else. Something unexpected. Something alive.
It’s hard to do in a world that never stops buzzing—where silence feels both spacious and a little dangerous, and our attention is quite literally being auctioned off to the highest bidder.
It’s easy to blame technology or the general buzz of modern life—and yes, I do think we’re living through a kind of global Attention Deficit Renaissance. But honestly, I’m not sure this is new. Humans have been dodging serious thought for centuries. I was reminded of this recently while paging through one of my favorite anitque books: Les Fleurs Animées.
In the hand-colored edition from 1867, J.J. Grandville imagines each flower as a woman—symbolic, satirical, and sometimes painfully accurate. The story of the pansy, Pensée (which means “thought” in French), has been in my thoughts lately.
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In the story, Thought (Pansy/Pensée) sets out to find a home. She visits philosophers, writers, painters, politicians. Each one turns her away. She’s too serious. Too reflective. The wealthy want distraction. The poor are too worn down. Even the young poet who welcomes her in—Jacobus—abandons her by morning. What had seemed magical the night before now feels embarrassing in daylight. He tosses her aside.
And just like that, Thought is homeless again.
It shook me because the theme isn’t just modern. It’s easy to think this kind of disconnection is something unique to our time. The wealthy, numb with excess and overstimulation; the rest of us, so exhausted by the grind of late-stage capitalism that by the end of the day, all we can do is collapse into Netflix or scroll on our phones. It feels like a symptom of now.
And yet, in Thought’s story, it’s the same. Grandville wrote it nearly two centuries ago, but the pattern holds. Whether duke or pauper, no one wants to let her in. The wealthy toast to forgetfulness; the poor are too spent to care. Everyone, in their own way, is just trying to check out. No one has time—or space—for thought.
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That’s part of why letter writing matters to me. Not because it’s quaint or aesthetic or some quiet rebellion against modern life, but because it’s one of the last places where real thinking is still welcome.
Writing a letter doesn’t demand a take. It doesn’t rush you toward clarity or productivity. It simply asks you to be present—and not in the way boring way meditation apps or yoga instructors mean. It's not forced. It's peaceful, joyful. Just you, the page, and whatever thought has stayed long enough to be worth writing down.
The pansy—pensée—doesn’t just symbolize memory, like the forget-me-not. She stands for the inner life. For thinking itself. She's knocking now.
Do we have room for her?
I hope so. I’m trying to make space. Maybe you are too. Let’s leave the door open.
Seal of the Week: Pansy
The newest addition to the Floriography Collection is the pansy—created in honor of thought itself. Not memory, not nostalgia, but the presence of interior life: the kind of slow, quiet thinking that too often goes unnoticed.
There are only 11 of these available for the Collector’s Register.
| Pansy Wax Seal |
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Pansies have long been a symbol of reflection and depth, but they’re also surprisingly hardy and cheerful—the kind of flower that thrives in cold soil and still looks delicate. They remind me that thought doesn’t have to be solemn to be meaningful.
I also love them in letters—tucked inside as a pressed surprise, they feel like a secret gesture. My favorite pressed pansies are from ElfHouseFinds on Etsy, if you want to include one alongside this seal.
This piece is for anyone carving out space for thought—in their writing, their rituals, or their daily lives. A quiet tribute to something easily overlooked, and deeply necessary.
| Collect One Here |
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A Thought Worth Sending
Inspired by the pansy (pensée), the flower of thought—here’s a letter prompt for someone who’s been on your mind.
Write to them just because.
Not because there’s news to share, or a question to answer, but simply because you’ve been thinking of them. Sometimes that’s reason enough.
In your letter, you might include:
- A memory of them that resurfaced recently—and why you think it returned
- A question you’ve been turning over that you’d love to hear their thoughts on
- Something you’ve been mulling over, even if it’s unfinished, uncertain, or a little messy
- A belief you held five years ago that has completely changed
- A detail in your life now that would surprise your younger self
- An idea you’ve been circling around but haven’t quite put into words—until now
You don’t need to explain why you’re writing. Sometimes the best letters are the ones that arrive unannounced, like a knock at the door from an old friend.
BONUS - If you have a pressed pansy, this is the perfect moment to tuck one in. A small gesture to say: you crossed my mind.
Color of the Week: Priscille
Priscille is a close family friend from Versailles. When I was about thirteen, she visited us in Tahoe and brought me a French eyeshadow in the most beautiful shade of blue. I’ve loved that color ever since—so much so that I eventually created a sealing wax inspired by it.
| Priscille Blue |
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Years later, Priscille went on to found her own beauty company in France: Éclo Beauty. Funny how life circles back like that.
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The Hastings Étui
Between now and July 7th, new collectors of the Hastings Étui can use the code JULY4TH when ordering to receive the Star / Memory penny alongside their Étui. This penny is a special gift—a symbol of both guidance and remembrance.
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It features a radiant star, representing the North Star in our lives—the truths and people that guide us well—and a tribute to memory itself, especially the kind that keeps those we love close, even when they’re no longer physically with us. It’s a fitting motif for the Fourth of July, but it’s not bound to any one occasion. It speaks to something quieter and more enduring.
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The Hastings Étuis are selling quickly. Of the original 99, we have about 40 remaining. I call these first collectors The 99—a name that holds real meaning. You’re the ones who saw the vision before it became obvious. This form of sealing will feel familiar and essential in the near future, but it wasn’t always so. The fact that you believe in it before the world catches on… that’s something I will never take lightly. It’s an honor to be building this history with you.
If you’ve been waiting for the right moment to join the 99, this is a beautiful one. The star is waiting.
| The Hastings Étui |
| Star Memory Penny |
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Hastings Penny Collection:
Kathryn