J is for the Joy of Purple
I <3 Purple Pen
This love story begins with my dad taking a trip to Planet Fitness. It costs like $10 a month, which is way cheaper than the New York Sports Club, where we go, and he wanted to see if the cheaper cost of membership was worth a longer drive, public parking, and a slight walk from car to gym. Answer: No. But that’s not the point.
(Also not the point: Planet Fitness is a joke of a gym. You can’t make noise when you’re working out, like grunting when lifting weights; if you do, you get kicked out. If you wear “inappropriate” clothing, you get kicked out—and some of the decisions they’ve made on this subject, documented on social networks, are questionable at best.)
The point is, he brought back a souvenir purple pen. One day, rushing out to class and in desperate need of a writing utensil, I grabbed it. I haven’t put it down since.
Why am I so obsessed with writing in purple pen? Because it makes all my writing an aesthetic experience. It’s like what the markers in our classroom were supposed to do—since I take all my notes with it, it makes my education experience aesthetic. It’s a very small change, black ink to purple, but it makes note-taking infinitely more enjoyable. And, of course, it’s the color of royalty like me.
Naturally, I’m writing this post in my notebook in purple pen, and the purple font in its Pressible incarnation is an obvious homage.
The great tragedy is, it’s running out of ink.