rhodia notebooks at arthur quentin

One of the reasons I love the Plateau kitchen and table ware store, Arthur Quentin, is that so much of what they sell is French. A few of my favorites this year are the Guy Degrenne teapots with a stainless cozy (sizes range from 2-8 cups), and the Upla bags, made from indestructible nylon with leather trim.

And - I know this may seem silly - I was ecstatic when I saw their new supply of Rhodia notebooks.

Why get excited about such a small and simple thing? These orange notebooks from the French Alps are all about order and aplomb. The color is fun, full of energy, and just a little bit eccentric, especially when they were first made, in the 30s.

The notebook’s inner pages, with their light gray grid, speak to my predisposition for order. The tidy squares promise that the small problems of the world will fall (ever so gently) into line: lost dogs will be reunited with their owners; unpaired socks will at long last find their match; too long to-do lists will self-organize into categories, with a timeline to follow.

I remember the first time I opened a Rhodia pad, and the cover folded back - and stayed put. For the first time, I understood good design. It felt good in the hand and in the mind. It solved a small, every day problem, only noticeable by the user.

The scored cover, made of quality paper, didn’t impede my progress. It didn’t flop, rip, curl or spring back. It folded quietly out of the way until I was done sketching, listing, or doodling. Then it folded flat again - flat! Ditto with the pages inside. I pick up an orange Rhodia pad now, and I’m back in France, younger and eager to know the ways of the world, and reasonably sure that I will.

This year marks the company’s 75th birthday, and the Rhodia folks are still helping us organize ourselves colorfully. They’re making plans for an upcoming calendar, and want fans to help choose the images - models wearing clothes and accessories made from, or resembling, Rhodia products. Photo credits.