This is a bit of an indulgent rant from a collector’s perspective. We were discussing why we obsess over these tools and why we’ve spent such huge portions of our lives scouring the planet for new finds. We talked about that specific drive to find what others have overlooked, and at this point, I decided to launch into a self-indulgent rant on my love for and my take on the simple (or not-so-simple) leadholder.
The Rant
It’s why I like some of the more common ones; their designs are so distinct. The Tekagraphs, Elastichuks, Tombow Monos, Microtomics, Trupoints, Leadmasters, Fugles, Rentas, Rolands, and, Combi’s, though the Combi is far less common all bring something unique to the table.
Then there are the “Woodies,” staying in touch with their roots: the common pencil. Who knew they could be so unique? From painted finishes and exposed wood to varied clutch systems, end caps, and button mechanisms, they are surprisingly diverse.
This is what drew me in years ago. A leadholder is a simple tool designed for one function and one function only: to communicate visual ideas and concepts onto paper. No design had to be as complex as the leadholder has become. Each variation proves that the simplest, cheapest design works; all it must do is keep the lead safe, expose only what is needed, and be comfortable to hold.
A simple pencil barrel does this. A sleek metal or plastic tube does this. There is no objective need for knurled grips, complex shapes, fancy chucks, or intricate details. Caran d’Ache proved how simple the form could be; the Russians proved how cheap it could be.
But as humans, we love design and aesthetics. We want what we buy to say something about us. We haven’t complicated the leadholder for the sake of functionality we’ve done it to satisfy our need to design and express ourselves.
I’d love to see where this goes, or how it rings with others.
