It's a natural development, isn't it? A range of notebooks with antiqued leather, crafted in Victorian style for a niche market of Memento Mori enthusiasts.
It fits in with my thinking, anyway. As I see it, there are wide-open markets and there are special-interest markets. If you want to join the throngs with your mass-produced travel notebook, then get thee to Paperchase. But if you want a special-interest hand-made notebook with animal bones dangling from the front, then come to Grit.
The only problem is, I haven't got any animal bones. Tiddles next door has some, but he's using them and may be reluctant to let me have a leg or two. I can't ask the butcher. I'm sure he still suspects me of doing in his window in 1983. But it couldn't have been me because I was never active in ALF. Even if he did oblige, he'd only offer me a great chunk of cow which wouldn't fit on the cover.
Anyway, I know where I can get animal bones. They'll be proper decayed, salt-sea licked, withered and wretched, everything perfect.
The Thames has loads of them.
I make the children come with me to collect a bag. I can't say they thought it was the most exciting educational experience they've had all summer - being forced to hand-pick eroded goat carcass from the banks of a river that once ran as an open sewer - but as I told them, it pays to be open minded in this world. Treat the experience as a lesson in London history. Now get picking.
And you can expect those objects of delight to appear on the Knicker Drawer blog just in time for Christmas.
Life along the Thames - not just a load of old bones