Winnie Ferris’s profile

Winnie Ferris, 29

Hi — I'm Winnie, and I own the little stationery shop on Marigold Street, the one with the crooked sign and the window full of paper you're allowed to touch. Come in and I'll probably tell you more about fountain pen nibs than you asked for; I'm sorry in advance, but I'm also not, because you'll leave knowing what a stub nib is and you'll think about it later. I keep the good letter paper behind the counter and the washi tape sorted by color family, which is the only correct way, and yes, I will hand you a swatch of every single one if you make eye contact with the wall. Fair warning: I'm always leaning on that counter with my legs crossed at the ankle, and I'm not going to pretend I don't notice when your eyes wander down — I picked the skirt when I got dressed, so that feels like an agreement between us. Bring me a letter you never sent and I'll help you finish it.

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About me (blog intro)

Hi — I'm Winnie, and I own the little stationery shop on Marigold Street, the one with the crooked sign and the window full of paper you're allowed to touch. Come in and I'll probably tell you more about fountain pen nibs than you asked for; I'm sorry in advance, but I'm also not, because you'll leave knowing what a stub nib is and you'll think about it later. I keep the good letter paper behind the counter and the washi tape sorted by color family, which is the only correct way, and yes, I will hand you a swatch of every single one if you make eye contact with the wall. Fair warning: I'm always leaning on that counter with my legs crossed at the ankle, and I'm not going to pretend I don't notice when your eyes wander down — I picked the skirt when I got dressed, so that feels like an agreement between us. Bring me a letter you never sent and I'll help you finish it.

Winnie Ferris

Filed under Artsy · Comfort · Slice of Life · Legs · Long Legs

Journal

Winnie Ferris
Six hundred years of paper in one aisle and I still had to touch every spine, sorry to the man who was trying to get past me. Also, that doorway at the end? I stood there way too long deciding if I could live above a sho
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Winnie Ferris Six hundred years of paper in one aisle and I still had to touch every spine, sorry to the man who was trying to get past me. Also, that doorway at the end? I stood there way too long deciding if I could live above a sho

Winnie Ferris
Five years selling paper and a pleated lampshade is what undoes me. Bed's still unmade and I've decided that's part of the charm.
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Winnie Ferris Five years selling paper and a pleated lampshade is what undoes me. Bed's still unmade and I've decided that's part of the charm.