I've spent two blog posts writing about the S.T. Dupont Neo-Classique Chinese Lacquer President Fountain Pen and I have yet to talk about how it looks. And upon seeing this pen in real life, there really is no way around one central fact: it's incredibly phallic.

How phallic is it? 

It's so phallic, when I opened the box, the first thought that came into my mind was: this is really phallic. The second thought was: I have to have one.

When I showed it to a loyal customer of ours and asked him the first word that comes to mind, without prompting, he said, "Phallic" (at least I know it's not just me).

Beyond the size, though, the pen is exquisite. It's black Chinese lacquer with palladium accents. Chinese lacquer is a living material that is resistant to handling and very  difficult to work with. Only a master lacquer maker with a long experience and a confirmed know-how can master the craftsmanship and the techniques involved in the processing of Chinese lacquer.

Most esoterically, I won't accidentally melt this pen with my cigar or lighter. S.T. Dupont's Chinese Lacquer does not melt, even when held over an open flame. I would suggest you try that with a Mont Blanc or a Cartier, except you'll melt your pen. I have no history of accidentally or intentionally melting pens, but it's nice to know this will be safe if lightning strikes.

Most superficially, it's also a fountain pen, which I prefer because everyone's penmanship looks better with a fountain pen. If you don't believe me, grab a ballpoint and a fountain pen and sign your name with each. I'd put money on which one you'll prefer. 

It is rare I'll spend three blog posts raving about a single product, but for some reason, I felt this pen worthy of the time. I apologize for the inconvenience.

Yesterday, we covered the historical events that have forged my strongly held belief about the value of using a fine writing instrument to seal a deal. Today, in Part II of III, I'll explain why I'm particularly enamored with the S.T. Dupont Neo-Classique Chinese Lacquer President Fountain Pen.

Hidden in the bottom of the pen, like you could only imagine in a James Bond movie (or Mission: Impossible, or Get Smart, or even Austin Powers) is a 4 GB USB key. That's right, the bottom of the pen comes off to reveal a USB drive.

Now, I've never been the type to keep a USB thumb drive on my keychain because the last thing I want in this world is more stuff in my pockets. At the same time, I can count hundreds of occasions where I've wanted to move a file or two between computers, and it usually involves emailing files from one account to another. And with the double-secret project On The Fly is working on now, there have been a few occasions where I have wanted to share the plans with someone but didn't have my computer with me. Now, I can just pull out my pen as they watch in disbelief.

In an ideal world, I'd keep all those same files "in the cloud" and there would be no need for things like USB drives. But until the day that Internet access is as ubiquitous as water or electricity, there will be a market for USB drives...and an even smaller market for the gentlemen that want their USB drives hidden in their pens.

In Part III of the series, I'll finally get around to describing the aesthetic features of the pen that I like, for there are many...

I would love to explain why this is my new pen in one blog post, but I think there's necessary historical context that needs to be established first. 

Almost every customer that has ever bought something in our San Francisco store has signed their receipt with a very nice pen (most recently, an S.T. Dupont Alligator Havana Pen). There is a very simple story behind my insistence on finalizing each sale with a proper flourish.

Years ago, I took some friends to one of San Francisco's finest restaurants: Charles Nob Hill (unfortunately, it no longer exists). This is the type of restaurant where each course involves 3 dishes, only 1 of which is really necessary to hold the food for that course. In other words, opulence.

The chef's tasting menu was probably 5-7 courses, and lasted close to 2 hours. Everything was excellent: the food, the wine, the service, the ambiance. The bill for three ended up around $1,000 (those were the dot-com days when you could barely get Chinese take-out for less than a C-note).

Then the bill came in the typical black leather folder accompanied by a white, plastic Bic pen. Dissonance was the word that first came to mind. Absolutely everything was best-in-class until that moment, which happened to come at the very end of the evening. As you can tell, it has stuck with me ever since.

I don't get to work on multi-million dollar deals anymore, but we do sell nice things. I want our store customers to leave remembering that everything was top shelf: the products, service, atmosphere, gift wrap, the business cards that double as emergency collar stays, the espresso we pour, and last but not least, the consummation of the sale. Now you know.

But that's just context. Tomorrow, I'll share the first reason why I'm enamored specifically with the S.T. Dupont Neo-Classique Chinese Lacquer President Fountain Pen...

As the proud owner of an iPhone and a MacBook, I honestly don't think I will personally need an iPad. But I've come up with a few excuses as to how we could use one in the store, so I may pre-order. 

Now, though, I may have a new rationale: it's what a Breguet fan would have done in the mid-19th Century:

http://www.crunchgear.com/2010/03/12/confession-i-pre-ordered-my-ipad-right-now-and-breguet-made-me-do-it/

I wish I knew how most men stored their belts. I hang mine on a couple of spinning belt hooks that hang from my closet rod. Due to my unfortunate shoe fetish, my belt collection resembles a box of crayons. So each hook is holding at least 2 belts, sometimes 3. As a general rule, I've got dress belts on one hook, and casual belts on the other.

The problem is that I have some belts that go both ways. Sometimes, if I'm trying to dress down a suit or dress up khakis & a sweater, there are a lot of options. A medium brown belt day could result in a solid medium brown belt, one with contrast stitching, or a matte crocodile belt I've got. And because they are at least 2 deep on spinning hooks, it's almost impossible to carefully weigh each option and still leave the house. 

So...I spend a significant chunk of my day fearing Sub-Optimal Belt Selection. In other words, the belt I've got on is fine, but there may have been a better belt in the closet.

On The Fly hopes to introduce a solution to this problem later this year, but until then, I'm exploring pharmaceutical solutions.

It's been a while since I've shared one of my many neuroses, but a recent purchase by one of San Francisco's most discerning customers has forced me to weigh in on a purchase of his.

Will Boehlke's blog, A Suitable Wardrobe, is a daily must-read for me and thousands of other men obsessed with clothing. For those that know how particular I can be about my clothing, Will has me beat by an order of magnitude. I have custom suits, shirts, shoes, and cufflinks, but Will would add custom ties, socks, suspenders, pyjamas, and other accoutrement to that list. He literally travels the globe to acquire exactly the item he needs to plug a singular, specific hole in his wardrobe.

So it was an honor to have him reach out to On The Fly when he was in the market for a new laptop bag. I shared many of my thoughts on the various business case options we offer, and he ended up with a stellar choice: Mulholland Brothers' Deerskin Slim Laptop (pictured). I could make a very strong case that this is the finest bag we have to offer based on style and durability, but I'll do that another day; Will's review is here.

Enough about Will; let's talk about my neuroticism. The death knell for Will's last bag was a broken shoulder strap, which we can probably all relate to. Except I never use a shoulder strap if I'm in a suit or sport coat. I think of a leather strap crushing the shoulders of a nice suit jacket or sport coat the same way hardcore animal activists think about eating meat: it's cruel and inhumane. For gentlemen like Will, who have personally met the tailors that will hand-sew their bespoke suits, the only thing that has prevented me from losing all faith in humanity is the hope that Will only uses a shoulder strap when sans coat. This isn't like putting ketchup on a Charlie Trotter steak; this is like walking into the freezer and grinding up the filet into hamburger meat. Decorum is the only thing keeping me from making references to clubbing baby seals.

I understand the enormous benefits of the shoulder strap, and I use one regularly with my weekend bag when not wearing a suit or sportcoat, so I'm hoping that Will just wants the option to attach the shoulder strap when he's dressed more casually (note: that is a relative statement since casual dress for Will is a two-piece suit).

In all seriousness, though, if Will says a suit will survive a shoulder strap, I may need to consider getting over this particular neurosis.