The Cookie Monster of Pens

I keep thinking about what Brad (The Pen Addict) said in his Stationery Things I Learned in 2025: “I’m tapped out of the high-end fountain pen market.” He talked about it on the podcast #697, too (thanks for the shout-out, Brad!), and another time on the most recent podcast #698, which is optimistically titled “RIP Pens.” With the tariffs, rising manufacture costs, inflation, the skyrocketing price of gold, the economic and political upheaval, and very steep price raises on many of the community’s favorite pens (such as Platinum, Pilot, and Sailor), fountain pens in many price ranges feel increasingly out of reach. Higher-end pens in particular are a much more iffy proposition than during the early pandemic days, when you could snag them used or during the big sales at half their price or even less. Many of us are concerned about being priced out of the hobby.

I’ve been thinking about the two recent special edition pens from Endless Pens (Kilk New Year, New Hue, and PapaJ’s Fear of Flying), both of them looked good to me, both retailed for ~$400 with a steel nib. The Kilk pen had bronze detailing - earlier Endless Pens special editions also had sterling silver. I did think the bronze band and finials looked good.

The EndlessPens Kilk Yggdrasil special edition I purchased in November 2024

The price increases make sense given the world we’re living in. I don’t fault the makers, and both special editions sold out rapidly. For me, $400 feels like high end, luxury segment — but just a year ago I paid half of that for my Kilk Yggdrasil with its sterling detailing. It’s a splendid, intricate, and beloved writing instrument, but it’s hard for me to consider a steel nib, cartridge converter pen a luxury offering. Despite the community’s worries about fountain pen affordability, both editions sold out very quickly.

The detailing on my Kilk Yggdrasil is superb.

During my years in the hobby, I’ve enjoyed fountain pens in every price bracket. Over the years, I’ve gravitated towards Italian pens. Some of them felt out of my reach financially, but through a combination of being strategic, saving, waiting for sales, and buying used when the moment was right, I did just fine. But now, even wanting pricier pens from afar feels fraught.

“Cookies are a sometimes food,” said the Cookie Monster some years ago, probably to appease a sugar-weary parental throng and/or the ever changing federal dough guidelines. I don’t like sweets and rarely eat them, but even I think the Cookie Monster should continue Wanting All the Cookies. It’s fine not to eat them all, or even any of them, but I’m here for the yearning. Without the burning desire for chocolate chip and snickerdoodle, what’s even the point of being a Monster of Cookies?

Three menagerie friends - FORG!, bolo bear, and tiny badger - are enjoying the company of the Montegrappa Miya in yellow celluloid.

I might not be able to get all the pens I want, but I still want them. I’m not done with the fountain pen market at any price bracket, high or low, new or used. I’m not done with desire.

What’s the point of anything otherwise?

At this moment in time, I have eighteen pens. I kept two out of last year’s five acquisitions. I haven’t bought a new to me pen since July 2025. 2026 has no pen purchase guardrails, but I’m not in a rush to buy anything. My collection is splendid - I love it so much. It accrued over many years. I can see downsizing a tiny bit more, but I think I am reaching the limit of what I want to rotate out. And a limit to what I want to bring in. But I don’t want to be artificially limited.

Last month in the newsletter, I wrote about the exercise of starting my collection entirely from scratch. At current prices, I could not afford to rebuy almost anything. That’s not great.

For over a decade of my earlier fountain pen usage, I wrote with a single black Pilot Falcon which my mother bought for me, and spent money only on cartridges. I was in a different financial situation, and simply could not afford to branch out even if I wanted to. I was content with the Falcon for a long time, it’s a great pen. But I don’t want to go back there.

Fountain pens, journal, and some books on my desk, with my World Fantasy award (still so happy). I just blurbed Ada Hoffmann’s book Ignore All Previous Instructions, and it’s very cool - coming out later this year.

I agree with Brad’s take on market trends: the fountain pen offerings across all price points and categories are getting more and more expensive, and the cost of living keeps rising. Even without the terrifying political climate, many of us are feeling squeezed. As a hobby, people seem to be moving away from hauls and endless acquisitions. If someone has an established collection, it makes so much sense to use what you have. I have been doing just that, myself. I love and use the pens I have.

What I don’t want to happen is to feel the need to buy pens I am not sure about. If I see a great Italian pen for sale second hand, for a good price and it’s not on my list - should I pounce on it just because of the market shenanigans? For me, that’s the definition of FOMO.

I saw one such pen for sale the other day on the second hand market, and I was so tempted. I think if I would have gotten that pen, I would have been happy. It had a steel nib - I did not mind that. It was gorgeous. It was a Leonardo. I do enjoy my two Leos, but one has recently developed a cracked ink window, and is out of commission, so I could justify a purchase that way. A new Leonardo was not on my yearly to-consider list. I sat on my hands. It sold quickly, of course.

I won at anti-FOMO, but did I lose a chance to own a pen I liked quite a lot, but which wasn’t on my list?

I think I made a good choice, all things considered, but the nagging feeling of missing out remains. I don’t want to tap out of the corner of the market where I find the most enjoyment, so I need to continue to be on alert for deals and make sacrifices elsewhere. I also don’t need to pounce on every beautiful pen I see for a good price - there are a lot of them, even in the current moment. But the scarcity/price increases are making the feelings of FOMO stronger.

I love Italian pens. Top to bottom - Aurora Internazionale Arancione, Scribo Maddalena, Montegrappa Miya, in my Alfie tray.

I know one thing: I’m not done with Italian pens. I don’t need to keep buying them to keep loving them, and I don’t want to consider alternatives. I care about intricate detailing, careful craftsmanship, in-house nibs, history, and beauty as an organizing principle. You can find all that in many places, but my happy place is the Italian pens. They are often just ridiculous, and their prices can be ridiculous (unless you’re in the right place at the right time), and the marketing behind them can be ridiculous, and they often need so much care, but I love them. I’d rather not go to a pen show (which will probably be the case this year) and save my money on pretty much everything else. I’m more than happy to use what I have, and scale all the way down on new acquisitions, which already happened in 2025. But I’m the Cookie Monster of these pens.

There are many worse things in this burning world than desire for beauty. Many, many worse things.