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Now I Can Tell You Everything about Postmarked Paris.

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The moment I sealed the final stack of envelopes, it hit me. The first Postmarked Paris dispatch was heading out into the world. I spent months curating vintage postage stamps for the envelopes, researching types of papers to find the best one to match the vintage ephemera, and, of course, countless hours in Paris sourcing the perfect pieces to tell a story that feels special, original, and distinctly French.

Introducing Postmarked Paris No. 1 — The Art of Correspondence

Last week, I hauled an oversized bag full of stuffed envelopes containing centuries old French artifacts and ephemera to my local post office in downtown New York City. I waited patiently in line until it was my turn and approached the window. I could have easily deposited everything in the mailbox on my corner but I wanted to make sure everything was perfect. Although I had triple checked the stamps on the outside no fewer than a million times, this was my last shot. The lady took out a calculator and added them up – seven unique stamps in total – and confirmed they were good to go. She then hand-canceled every single one and that was that. The first dispatch was out of my hands.

The less than glamourous side of my local post office in NYC.

Then came the wait. Silence. No “read receipt.” No alert that they had arrived at their destinations, scattered across the US. Slowly messages started trickling in, East Coasters a few days later and Californians after a week.

If a grey envelope decorated with thematic vintage stamps arrived in your mailbox recently, you already know.

“It was so satisfying to look at all of the postage stamps on the mailing and realize how they connected. The envelope was deceptively slim with a small cache of treasures inside…. I can’t wait to see the next mailing” – Debbie, Postmarked Paris subscriber

Each edition features a constellation of vintage, thematic postage stamps on the outside of the envelope.

You are among the first correspondents of Postmarked Paris, and I have been thinking about you since the moment I sealed the envelopes and let them go.

For everyone else, I have been keeping something from you, until now.

I have been thinking about correspondence for longer than Postmarked Paris has existed. What it means to send something, to receive something, to keep something. That is why the first dispatch is called The Art of Correspondence.

I lost my own practice of letter writing for many years. It slipped away the way slow and careful things do when the world speeds up around them. I have only recently found my way back to it, and Postmarked Paris is part of that return. But what brought the theme into focus for me was something more specific. Not long ago I found a bundle of letters in a storage unit: correspondence between my parents, before they were married, written in their early twenties when they were living separate lives and not yet sure how the story would resolve. I read them aloud to my father, who is still here and was glad to hear them again. Those letters told me things about my parents I could not have known any other way. Without them, that version of them would simply be gone.

That is what correspondence preserves. The particular slant of someone’s hand, the news, the sentiment, and why it all should be kept. We have not lost the ability to reach each other; we can do that faster than ever. What we have lost is the record.

It’s the same feeling that draws me to French ephemera; letters, stamps, postcards, calling cards. Each piece was one part of someone’s record. Gathered together around a curated, intentional theme, they now become part of yours.

The Art of Correspondence is the first theme. Every dispatch will be unique, with its own theme, its own story to tell, shaping everything inside: What I source, what I write, and what I choose to send to you.

What’s Inside the First Edition

Inside each envelope is a hand-painted vintage postcard of France. Blank on the reverse, ready to be sent if you’re willing to let it go. These are not printed. Not reproduced. They’re painted by hand, each one a different scene: a château, a cathedral, a river, a street. No two are the same.

Postmarked Paris edition no. 1, during the assembly stage.

There is also an antique handwritten letter. In French, in an unknown hand, dated somewhere in the latter half of the nineteenth century, 1870s. No two correspondents receive the same letter. Each one is genuinely one of a kind, antique, and has outlived its author.

I chose to include a vintage airmail envelope, because the story of correspondence and communication feels incomplete without it. These envelopes traveled the world, their journeys still marked on their surface. Correspondents also receive a large collection of international stamps, from countries and decades that span the better part of a century.

Finally, there is a calling card. Small, cream colored, printed in careful script: Madame Émile Bibaut. Receveuse des Postes et des Télégraphes. Chalabre (Aude). Mrs. Émile Bibaut. Postmistress of Chalabre. I found her on a flea market table in Paris, her cards still in the box that François Cahuc printed them in. I kept the box. I sent her to you.

No two dispatches are identical. Every object in an envelope I sent exists nowhere else in this combination. They were made to travel, and they have made their way to you.

Postmarked Paris: The Art of Correspondence

And now, the second edition of Postmarked Paris is already in motion. Each dispatch is limited; the ephemera I source in Paris is finite, and I will never send more envelopes than I can curate, and curate well. Every edition tells a different story, built around a theme, and is filled with vintage French ephemera I have chosen by hand. Each one goes out quarterly, and when spots are filled, enrollment closes.

I am already excited about what edition no. 2 holds.

If you would like to join the correspondence, enrollment for the second dispatch has reopened now, for a limited time. Everything you need to know is here.

One last thing.

When I sealed those first envelopes and let them go, I trusted they would arrive. They did. That is the oldest gesture in the world, and it still works.

Yours affectionately, Ashley

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