The Art of Sending Snail Mail: Guest Post by Ashley Lusk
Happy Thursday! We're continuing the snail mail love train! Today's post is brought to you by Ashley Lusk. Ashley has been a long time twitter pal and was one of my very first clients when I started designing paper goods. Since then we've bonded over our mutual love of food, the city, design, and now, writing letters. Ashley will always have a special place in my heart as the DC skyline save the dates I designed for her are now my most popular design on Etsy!
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Most Sundays I sit down to write a letter; on a quiet week it may be one, perhaps a postcard, maybe a thank-you note, but many weeks there are several. I have an entire box dedicated to stationery, my address is printed on a whimsical rubber stamp, and yes, I even have a wax sealer.
I have entire friendships that have existed via letter, I was a participant of Postcard X (sadly, no longer in existence) and Foodie Pen Pals, and I taught two years of GenEd English with a significant segment of class dedicated to dissecting Postsecret.
And it’s not just mailed letters that hold meaning - my mom used to leave lovely notes in my school lunch box, and I’d find random notes tucked into my glove compartment (or gas cap, or car trunk) from my dad when I first learned to drive. I played a hide and seek game of letters with my grandparents for most of my adolescence - during each visit to their home I would hide a note for them to find later (no one thinks to look for hidden letters in their sock drawer).
For as much indulgence I take in writing a letter — signing off in long, swooped cursive — there is a distinct pleasure in being the recipient of a missive too. The kind of anticipation that arrives with the post person can never be replaced with the ping of a text. With the post office floundering, Esquire has one of the best long form essays on the true significance of the American Postal System - “Do We Really Want to Live Without the Post Office?”
And for me, the answer will always be, no.
Nothing can replace a beautiful piece of stationery, the smudged ink of a hand-written thought, the character of a penned letter that arrives thoughtfully at my doorstep.
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