Tag: letters

7 Reasons We Like Birthday Cards

Last year we provided you with seven of the finest World War propaganda posters that the world had never seen. They now exist in a very pleasant postcard collection. Today we thought we’d do the same with birthday cards. It’s a fascinating collection displaying the very finest in 7 Reasons style, humour and photoshop. Well, mostly.

1. Eyechart. Remember the good old days when your Dad could read? Yes, so do I. This card humorously reminds them that they are aging very quickly. Don’t worry, they wont find it insulting. By the time they have found their glasses they’ll have forgotten what they needed them for.

2. I Like This. Are you on facebook? Yes, of course you are. The only person who isn’t is my Mum. And good for her. It means she has more time to bake cakes and stuff. It also means she has real friends. That’s in stark contrast to the rest of us who have never actually met at least 20% of our ‘friends’. This card is ideal therefore for the social media nut in your life. It would also help if they have watched Notting Hill. And they’re a boy. You need to be a girl too. Or a male lesbian.

3. Copper Letters. This is our minimalist card. It wasn’t intentional, it’s just that these were all the letters we found down the side of the 7 Reasons sofa. Luckily for those among us who have birthdays, all the letters required to spell ‘Happy Birthday’ were present. Unfortunately we could only find a number zero and a number six. Which means this card is only really suitable for the six or sixty year-old in your life. At least you can reuse it though. Just hang on to it for fifty-four years.

4. White. Then we realised that our minimalist card wasn’t minimal enough. So this is our ist card (it’s so minimal that we could only make it more minimal by dispensing with the word minimal). Have we said “minimal” enough now? Good, we’ll stop then. This card recognises that the best cards in the shop are always the ones in which the interior is “left blank for your message” and contains the message “exterior left blank for your image” within. Printed in white. Which makes it appear even more…er…even less maximal.

5. Chess With Death. This birthday card designed specifically for the film buff references the Ingmar Bergman classic The Seventh Seal, in which an ailing knight plays a chess match against Death to prolong his life. It’s a card which accurately represents how most people over the age of thirty view birthday cards anyway, except that most people don’t even get the fun of a chess match on their “special” day. This is not a card for birthday fans.

6. Happy___Birthday. This is the only card you’ll ever need (which is something of a shame, as there’s one more to go). If you keep a stock of these at home you’re all set for every eventuality. Can’t find a card with the right age on it? No problem, there’s space for you to fill it in (to the day). Forgot the birthday and you’re sending it late? No problem, you can just tell them you meant to send it as a happy-sixty-fourth-plus-two-days card. Know someone who hates birthdays and want to stick the knife in? No problem, just send it with their age plus a hundred and eighty days, half a year after their birthday. They won’t be expecting that!

7. Deforestation. We’ve just designed a lot of cards. Well six. That’s a lot if you’ve only got five fingers. It’s also a lot of paper and, as we should all know by now, paper comes from trees. Our seventh card therefore highlights the plight of our rainforests. A greeting card that urges people to save the trees is a brilliant contradiction and one we hope will appeal to the hypocrites among you.

April 15, 2011
7 Reasons to Embrace Junk Mail

Junk mail. No one likes it, but there are valid reasons to embrace it. We don’t mean give it a cuddle, that would be weird; we mean accept and enjoy it, because there are – fortunately for us – almost seven reasons to.

Junk Mail (Image courtesy of Stop Junk Mail)*

1. Wanted. There is something very comforting about the sound of your letter box opening and something dropping onto the floor. It makes you feel wanted and loved. If it’s a bill then it’s good to know British Gas care that you are still alive and if it’s junk mail – probably from the local estate agent asking you if you would like to consider selling your house to a family of five who have just moved to the area – well it’s good to know that they think you are friendly. You know, the kind of person who would consider moving for a family of five. The estate agents wouldn’t put the same letter through Lord Sugar’s letter box would they? No. Because he has evil in his eyes. And a guard dog.

2. New Experiences. One of the most regular pieces of junk mail that adorns house mats all over the country are those from local (and not so local) take-away restaurants. Whether it’s Indian, Chinese, Taiwanese, Bangladeshi, Italian or Chav, what a great way to start experiencing a different culture. It might only take you one chicken dansak to decide that you want to go and experience India for itself or it might only take one late pizza delivery by a teenager who calls you ‘boss’ to make you decide you are living in the wrong part of town.

3. Pens. They say that you can never have too many pens. And fortunately, charities have challenged this age-old assumption by providing them to us free of charge to us via the medium of junk mail. And it turns out that you can have too many pens. I write stuff every day, in fact you’re reading it now. I write far more than the average person and rarely use a pen. I require one pen, for the purpose of writing down random notes that I can’t read later on and eventually turn into paper aeroplanes. Fortunately though, there is an alternate use for all of the pens that charities send to me at a loss. I use them as legs for my four-legged (and six-legged) potato animals. I clearly have too many pens. And potatoes.

4. Rubbish. To be embraced heavily are those charity bags that get stuck in your letter box. You know, those that the charities ask you to fill with old and unwanted clothes. Well, if you do manage to remove them from the letter box without ripping them, they make brilliant bin bags. Don’t go walking down the street swinging one around in the breeze though, you’ll become a prime chugger target. You’ll get chugged. In a chugging.

5. Baldness. We don’t know everything about the 7 Reasons readership. The 7 Reasons team both have hair, and we imagine that our readers do too. But there may be some who are afflicted with baldness. And, if there should be such people reading, they might learn from this use of junk-mail. Because back – way back – in history, in a time almost lost to human memory there was once a thing, a sort of a big flaming ball of heat and light that dwelt in the sky. Some cultures worshipped it, some feared it, and it had many names. Here, it was known as the sun. And, in those far-gone days, when it lit up the sky, it was a menace to the follicularly challenged who lacked the natural protection from its rays that the rest of us take for granted. But with junk-mail there’s always a free emergency hat lying on their doormat, waiting to be origamied. Just in case the great orb in the sky should ever reappear, as unlikely as that seems.

6. Love. If this isn’t enough to satisfy your junk mail habit, then the final option is to create a junk mail-mache person. Then you can really embrace it if you are that way inclined. Or a pervert as it is more commonly known. Just make sure they are dry first.*

7. Lifestyle. As a guide to living, junk mail is invaluable. Want to know what not to eat or drink? All of that information is conveniently posted unsolicited through your letterbox. Whether it’s takeaways, highly dubious drinks delivery services, or the offers at your local branch of Londis. If a picture of something (these things are always pictorial) comes through your letterbox, then it’s disgusting and common and bad for you. Yet surprisingly tempting when drunk; which is how they get you, by the way. They expect you to read them when you’re lying face-down on your own doormat having just made it home from a big night out; when your guard is down. Why else would they put them there? Bastards.

*Because wet perverts are the worst kind.

You can also use it to make one of these!

*If you can’t find the love to embrace junk mail, check out Stop Junk Mail here.

December 10, 2010
7 Reasons That This Is Not A Circular

A buff envelope has arrived. It bears the legend, “THIS IS NOT A CIRCULAR”. But I already know that. I can tell.

I made this in Photoshop to protect confidential information and to prevent the internet from stealing my soul. (I am referring to the envelope. I did not construct Milton Keynes in Photoshop)

1. It Has A Puzzling Series Of Numbers And Letters Above My Name. No one receives circulars with baffling and impenetrable sets of numbers on them – unless they subscribe to a sudoko magazine – so it’s definitely not a circular. The reference numbers and letters are a puzzle in themselves though: Why are there so many of them? Does this organisation really need a forty-six character indexing system? Is it merely coincidence that my waist size and the amount of times I’ve eaten trifle in the past six months are contained within the numbers? Is this what happened to Dan Brown?

2. It’s From Rhyll. Circulars tend to be fun, exciting things that you’ve subscribed to, and are happy to receive. They don’t come from Ryhll: Home of nothing fun and exciting (It’s the town motto).

3. It Says “PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL” On It. It doesn’t just say “private and confidential”; it shouts it with great portent, in a bold, roman font in capital letters. This is presumably to instil terror into the heart of any ne’er do well that may be thinking of breaking into the letter. It commands non-addressees not to open it. The contents couldn’t be safer if they digitally encoded them and gave them to MI5. Really, they couldn’t.

4. I Can See That It’s Not A Circular. It’s got four corners. It’s a rectangular.

5. Because My Name Is Spelled Correctly. It’s an easy giveaway. No circular – The Chap magazine, the Isle of Wight Donkey Sanctuary newsletter, Tiramisu Consumers Monthly, the Rohan catalogue (as soon as I finish writing this, I’m going to subscribe to more interesting things, I promise) – ever spells my name correctly. It’s the law. Some of them (I’m thinking of you, Font Magazine) manage to spell both of my names incorrectly – and my address – though it is done very neatly and tastefully.

6. It’s In A Buff Envelope. No fun personal correspondence comes in a buff envelope. None. In fact, nothing exciting comes in a buff envelope. White envelopes, yes. Yellow envelopes, yes. Purple envelopes, yes…every colour other than buff, which isn’t even a colour, except on envelopes. Has anyone ever painted their house buff? No, they haven’t. That would be silly. And dull.

7. Because I Don’t Want To Open It. I feel an instinctive aversion to opening the envelope. It looks like it contains something really boring. This never happens with circulars, except the Toolstation catalogue (white envelope), which always reminds me that I should be hammering and banging at something, and that I don’t own enough power-tools (to build a nuclear submarine). If you want me to open the envelope print, “THIS IS A CIRCULAR” on it, or add a picture of a happy dog to the front. That may fool me. Then I won’t ignore it while I write about it before heading off to do something more interesting than reading it. Visiting a quilt museum, for example.

August 11, 2010