we don't claim to have solved the puzzle of ethical production. what we offer instead is a commitment to overthinking—examining each decision, questioning every material, and considering the true cost of making things in a world already overflowing with stuff.
our approach is built on acknowledging contradictions. we make notebooks while questioning consumption itself. we strive for sustainability while recognizing that no product has zero impact. we work within systems we wish to change.
the notebooks we create won't save the planet, but the thinking behind them might nudge us all toward more considered choices. here's how we navigate the messy business of making things:


made local
we make our books in ireland, this reduces transport emissions and supports local economies.
we choose local even when it's more expensive or complicated, not because it's perfect (nothing is), but because proximity allows for accountability. when production happens nearby, its impacts become harder to ignore.

made local
our production happens entirely in ireland, reducing transport emissions and supporting local economies. we know the names of the people who handle our materials. we visit the workshops where our covers are pressed. we understand the true geography of our supply chain, not just its financial contours.
we choose local even when it's more expensive or complicated, not because it's perfect (nothing is), but because proximity allows for accountability. when production happens nearby, its impacts become harder to ignore.

design for repair
we construct our notebooks with exposed binding and accessible structures that invite repair rather than replacement. a broken spine can be replaced. a worn cover can be replaced while keeping the pages. we want our objects to evolve rather than expire.

low impact accessories
we operate without conventional retail infrastructure, using salvaged and secondhand equipment instead of energy-intensive point-of-sale systems. our packaging is minimal, recycled, and designed to be reused or composted.
we use hand-operated machinery wherever possible, reducing energy consumption while connecting us directly to the physical process of making.
these choices aren't perfect solutions, but incremental improvements that accumulate into meaningful difference.

asking questions
perhaps our most important practice is persistent questioning—of industry standards, of our own habits, of the stories we tell ourselves about what sustainability means. we ask:
who benefits from this production method? who bears its costs?
what assumptions underlie this decision? what alternatives might we consider?
how could this be better? what are we overlooking?
what would happen if everyone made things this way? what would happen if no one did?
we don't expect to arrive at final answers. the questions themselves are valuable—shaping our thinking, challenging our assumptions, keeping us honest about the compromises inherent in making physical objects in an imperfect world.
this questioning isn't a marketing strategy. it's the foundation of how we work, sometimes slowing us down, often making things more complicated, but always pushing us toward more thoughtful choices.
we invite you to bring the same questioning approach to your own consumption. not because it makes purchasing a notebook a virtuous act (it doesn't), but because overthinking might be our best defense against the simplistic stories that got us into our current environmental predicament.