Scarlet

Here is my adorable A5 Adelphi in Scarlet or Hot Lipstick Red.

Even thought I'd just bought the Spring Green Chameleon, I couldn't give the Adelphi up after I held it in my hands. I made up all kinds of excuses: I'll need an archive binder anyway; I'll use this one in winter and the other in spring; Buying this Filofax is good for the economy.

The thing is, I didn't need to make up excuses. The Adelphi is just gorgeous as a personal journal for when I get into a seriously scribbly mood. I've also been fiddling with collage for my photographs and this little book gives me a safe space to experiment.

I am seriously loving how versatile Filofax is. If I get struck with inspiration during the week, I can jot down the idea in my "everyday" Filofax (the Chameleon), then transfer it to my "journal" Filofax. And vice versa--if I put together something that makes me smile and I need a pick-me-up during the week, I can transfer the page to my Chameleon.

So there we are. Two Filofaxes, one tired credit card, an exasperated husband, and a happy, happy me!

Two Are Better Than One

The sensible shopper, when faced with two equally attractive possibilities, weighs the pros and cons of each item, examines true need versus impulse, and eventually arrives at a sensible decision.

But I wouldn't know because when have I ever been a sensible shopper?

That's right--check it, bay-bee. I bought the A5 Chameleon in Spring Green AND the A5 Adelphi in Scarlet!

OK, I did try to compare one to the other and had hoped, rather briefly and not all that sincerely, that one would come out on top. But in the end, I loved them both and feel no guilt and no regrets!

Even better, I found perfect uses for both, so now I will share my systems (and expose my not-so-inner-geekery.)

First up is my Chameleon, lovely, unique, just the right size.

This is my "cover page," a silly photo strip of my daughter that never fails to crack me up when I look at it, and a homemade birthday card (made of supplies from his office) that my husband gave to me.

Then comes another top opening clear envelope in which I keep things I don't want to forget about, a credit card holder page for ID, cards, etc., a personal info page that I just made using the remnants of scrapbooking papers I used to make my tabbed dividers (not pictured.)

Then come the dividers themselves. I didn't label them because I am fickle and change things around too much to be able to commit, but I don't have a lot of sections (and no subsections at all) so remembering what goes where isn't really a problem. Here is my Goals/Projects/Lists section.

Then comes a section for Blog Notes (I know--two blogs and no readers outside of family, but I'm a scribbler and my blog notes get their own section, OK?).

Then--isn't this clever?--my diary pages.

I'm using the week-on-two-pages format that came with it. It felt a little odd using the column format, but I think I could get used to it. At least till the end of the year. But I think I might go to the day-per-page format in 2012 as my week still looks like a hot mess.

Then a section for notes that might go into my personal journal.

Then a section for inspiration--art, fashion, hair-dos I might try.

Finally a section for key information (key--get it???): websites I use, encrypted passwords, contacts, medications, etc.

I love looking at my tabs.

And I love how much room there is to write--my handwriting stays largely intact even with the rings. I find that the binder lays flat quite easily. But it could be because my diary pages are pretty much dead center in the binder so there is equal weight distribution when it is open. It's not as heavy as I thought it would be and fits perfectly in my handbag.

I also have the Post-It insert (it was dismantled by my daughter so I just replaced the Post-Its), a jot pad, the portable hole punch, and an extra pen, but I didn't want to bulk out too much, so I keep those things (which are handy but not used daily) in a small mesh bag.

So, that's my Chameleon. Perfect for everyday/work needs and not too heavy to lug around. Stay tuned...I'll introduce you to my Scarlet Adelphi next.

Filophile: Filofax Part 2

So, I've revealed far more than anyone should ever want to know about my history with Filofax. The above photo is of my gorgeous Personal Piazza, and I should probably seek psychiatric help for my obsession. She's just the right color, has just the right set up, feels great in my hands.

And yet...

...Lately I've been feeling that she just isn't giving me enough space. What! you say? If she didn't live in your handbag, you'd be stalking her!

No, I mean space!

Consider, my typical week looks like this:

I like to have appointments, deadlines, and daily tasks all right there in front of me, but really, all those little scraps of paper are ridiculous! I thought about switching to a day-per-page format so that I could use it as both a planner and a diary in the English sense of the word (keeping record of past events), but even if I switched to a day-per-page format, there would still be the problem of my hand bumping into the rings more often than I like. 

Also, I've been watching this You Tube video obsessively and this one, and I convinced myself that I NEEDED an A5.

In fact, I needed this one.

Poor quality cell phone image--will do this one justice someday soon.

Meet my A5 Chameleon in Spring Green. She's lovely, unique, and just the right size.

But in my research, I came across this beauty on Flickr. Holy Hot Red Lipstick, Batman! What a gorgeous color! And did you see what she did with the dividers? I love seeing how Filophiles kit out their own. Well, what's an addict to do? Get both, of course!

Now, my intent was to decide between the two and return one. Yes, well, so easy to do in theory...

Plannerd: Filofax Part 1

When I was in college, my roommate and bestie, who was a far better student than me, carried around a navy blue, pleather-bound agenda to keep track of her classes and whatever extra-curricular activities she participated in. (She kept up her grades, worked a part time job, and joined clubs. I drank beer, watched Melrose Place, and sometimes remembered to go to class.) After studying, she would pull out her agenda every night, ticking things off on its pages, and looking somewhat smug and accomplished as she closed the cover with a little flourish. I was a diary-nerd, constantly buying different hardbound blank journals and pretending I was Anais Nin, so I understood the satisfaction of closing a cover after scribbling, but still. I had no interest in planners and no idea of their potential. (Plus I saw them as a symbol for super-conservative, ultra-boring business people--how wrong I was!) Outwardly, I would laugh at her nerdishness, write "Psych Midterm?" on my Andy Warhol calendar in the general vicinity of when the midterm might be, then go back to watching Melrose Place. But I secretly envied how competent and organized she was.

Fast forward a few years later to when I was an impressionable, twenty-five year-old retail store manager and one of my employees showed up with a Franklin Covey planner. She was young, scatter-brained, and even more disorganized than I was. But IT. IT was large, made of smooth, black leather, zipped all the way around, and had handles that slid out from its exterior pockets. It was beautiful and so business-like. She waxed lyrical about how this bad boy changed her life and opened it up like she was revealing some sacred book to me. OK, her calendar wasn't very exciting ("Work: 5-9"), but the forms! The tabs! The blank note pages! I had no idea what the hell it meant to "sharpen the saw", but the diary-nerd in me was beginning to see the potential.

My gateway planner was Franklin Covey. My first was a burgundy binder with sliding handles and a long strap so that I could carry it like a purse. I looked so organized! So competent! Like someone who made lists! But the planner was bulky and I couldn't actually use it as a purse because it would hold neither lipstick, nor keys, nor tampons. And it still looked really "corporate zombie" to me. So I ditched it for several no-name day planners bought at Target or Borders or the grocery store. Then I began a series of "grown-up" jobs and thought it was time to get serious about my time management again. I went back to Franklin Covey, though I was never satisfied with it and still had no idea what "sharpen the saw" meant. Over the years, I've bounced back and forth between Franklin Covey, DayTimer, Levenger, Palm Pilot, Designers Guild, Moleskine, and, finally, Filofax!

Stay with me, planner-nerds (Plannerds!), now comes the good stuff:

I am a sucker for a beautiful notebook, so that right there made Filofax perfect for me. My first was and still is a sexy beast. It was a personal sized Dorset in the loveliest, warmest shade of orange. Not creamsicle orange, but not so somber as rust. The interior was a creamy light beige (but beige is too boring a word for this color) that contrasted beautifully. I used the week-on-two-pages to schedule in appointments and deadlines (I was a grant-writer for a non-profit then), and I filled the address section with my Christmas card list, but I hadn't found a way to use the other tabs, so they remained blank, blah and empty. This was my go-to planner for years. Here she is today:

Currently, she holds my Christmas card list, and important information like bank accounts, passwords, etc. This is the Filofax I will grab on my way out the door during a house fire.

After several house moves and, oh, a daughter being born, my Dorset was packed away in boxes we hadn't yet got to, and I admit I strayed and used a moleskine for about 18 months. In researching other planning systems,  I came across the most awesome Filofax community ever, and I was once again obsessed with Filofax. So I bought another Filofax to use in absence of my Dorset: a Personal Domino in Electric Blue, which ended up being ordinary purple. It was fine, it was serviceable, but it didn't excite me. I didn't love writing in its pages, I didn't love holding it, I didn't stroke it. Nope, not even once. It was clear I needed my Dorset back. Still, I hated to get rid of the Domino so I continued to use it. Here it is today:

Currently it holds archive pages and blank pages for future use. It makes cute storage.

I finally found my Dorset and she was buried under the heaviest paper cutter in existence. I'd also packed her with a small binder clip still attached to her front cover, so she was, to say the least, a little mangled. Oh, my baby! I was heartbroken.

I needed a new Filofax. A beautiful Filofax. One I would use everyday and treasure forever, and not bury under heavy office supplies in a box misleadingly labeled "books". I also decided, it had to be yellow. Sunny yellow. The Filofax website didn't offer anything I was interested in, but I was sure dream-Filo existed somewhere. And then I remembered Ebay. I typed in "Yellow Filofax" and to my surprise and joy, this turned up:

She is a Personal Piazza in Sunflower. She was PERFECT! I used the Buy It Now option and in less than two weeks, she was in my hands, being stroked, cuddled, even talked to. (Yes, I am aware I may have a problem.) I bought a pen in brown ink especially for her cotton cream pages. Not only was she as gorgeous as I'd hoped, but I was suddenly struck by inspiration and began decorating her divider tabs, coming up with different uses for each section. Let's have a few more looks:

Front page shows a picture of the kissiest three-year-old ever and a note from the husband.

Divider pages made from scrapbook paper.

Tabs!

Diary pages on the left because I had extra from 2010, so I use them as note/scrap paper (but turned upside down so I don't confuse them with my actual diary pages.) 2011 diary pages begin after the polka dots.

Fashion inspiration--I love Kate Spade and I love yellow.

I carry my Filofax in my bag every day. I love to write in her every day. I love to hold her in my hands, even when I don't need to use her. I keep my calendar, tasks, key contacts, lists, projects, inspiration photos and random bits and bobs in her. I even use her as my really big wallet. I refer to her as "her". I've stopped just short of giving her a name. My husband thinks that if I wrote a list of who I loved best in my household, my list would look like this: 1.) daughter; 2.) Filofax; 3.) husband; 4.) dog.

I have no response to that.

So after all this, she seems like the end-all, be-all of Filofaxes to me, right? Or is she?