pen review

Pen Review: Lamy 2000

Spending some time back in the States, I’ve been reunited with my Lamy 2000. Don’t ask me why I didn’t travel with it in the first place–I must have been on a cartridge kick, trying to pack light or something–but I won’t make that mistake again. From now on, this functional, stylish, piston-filler never leaves my side.

Unfortunately, rediscovering my favorite pen has kept me from reviewing any others. I’ve been monogamous. And that right there is the moral of the story from a few years of owning the 2000: if you’re only going to own one pen, and you’re actually going to write with it, the Lamy 2000 is ideal.

Looks and Design

For those of you who don’t know, the Lamy 2000 gets its aesthetic from the Bauhaus revival, which was in full swing when it was designed in 1960s Germany. It’s as much a piece of modern art as it is a writing tool.

But you already know all of this if you’ve read anything at all about the Lamy 2000. That’s because fans of the 2000, and Lamy’s marketing department, go on and on about it’s avant garde credentials. This, along with some quirks to the writing experience, make it a seriously polarizing writing instrument. As one review put it, “this is pretty much the Kanye West of fountain pens.” (Lamy’s most outrageous marketing boast is that the pen is featured in the MoMa. Not true, though the man who designed it does have work in their collection.)

Consequently, there’s more than a few reviews out there. Tools & Toys has one of the best ones I’ve read. Neil Gaiman has Tweeted and blogged about his 2000. He praises it as better for novel writing than the “regular Lamy” (I assume he means the Safari) which he reserves for book signing.

In this review, I’m going to try to stay above the gossip and hype to focus on my subjective experience writing with the Lamy. However, the design history is worth mentioning because it’s inseparable from the writing experience. That is the Bauhaus ethos: form follows function.

Try zooming in on the image above. Can you see the line where the piston filling mechanism joins the barrel? This moving part is nearly invisible when it’s screwed down. The brushed finish further camouflages it, giving one consistent finish down the length of the pen and the section. The same goes for the cap: it’s lines blend nicely with the body whether capped or posted. The cap feels like it’s supposed to be there, not like some clunky after-thought with nowhere better to be.

Above the section, there’s a discrete ink window you won’t notice until you’re running low, unlike some other pens where the ink window reminds you of those plastic gel pens the sell at Rite Aid.

The barrel is made out of a brushed fiberglass-like material called Makrolon. It’s durable, it has that matte look that screams quality, and it warms to the touch. That bond you begin to feel with this pen, you get the sense that they engineered that feeling ahead of time.

One design feature that’s controversial, to the point of turning some off the pen, are the little nubs that lock the cap in place (above.) Some people find they get in the way when they’re writing. They can’t find a good grip. I don’t notice the nubs (or whatever they’re called,) and I’m happy to not have to unscrew the cap every time I want to jot something down. But I can see how this would be a deal breaker for someone with a different grip. Another issue with the 2000 is that the nib is ground in a way that limits the angles you can write from (more on this in a minute.)

Nib and Ink

The nib is 14k gold coated in platinum. You get the flex and warmth of a gold nib without the color gold. The nib is hooded, like the old Parker 51. You trade an elaborate nib you can show off, for one that’s built for serious writing. Hooded nibs are supposed to resist drying out because less ink is exposed to the air. I’m careful about capping my pens when they’re not in use, so I wouldn’t know much about that feature, but I can say this nib is plenty wet without being sloppy.

I write with a medium nib, and it’s very medium. It’s not so bold that I can’t write on cheap or thin paper, but it wouldn’t be my first choice for super precise penmanship (if I could even do that.) If I could go back, I would probably get a fine or extra fine. After writing with Japanese pens for a couple years, a German medium is a little broad for my liking.

The piston filling mechanism is smooth and reliable. It has a solid feel like it won’t need servicing for many many years to come.

The ink capacity is in a league of its own. I haven’t got exact measurements, but I find it lasts a week plus with heavy use. I could confidently fill this up for a short trip and not have to bring a bottle of ink with me. The trade-off with that discrete ink window is that by the time the window reads empty, you’ve only got about a page left.

How it Writes

This is a working pen. It’s not bedazzled or engraved or encrusted with gems. It’s not a luxury item. The Lamy 2000 was built for writing. Every design feature, everything that contributes to its price, is intended to optimize the experience of actually using the pen as a pen and not a desk toy or decoration. This is the pen to buy if you want to write a novel without getting writer’s cramp. I draft almost everything I write longhand, from emails to short stories, and I can say the 2000 is still a dream to write with after hours at my desk.

However, I would strongly recommend trying this one before you buy it. The nib has a sweet spot that doesn’t give you many grip options, and those nubs get in the way for some people. It’s not uncommon for folks to complain of quality control issues. But this is a misconception. Lamy’s quality control is second to none, but people often mistake the quirks of this particular nib, for quality issues. It’s not scratching or squeaking, it’s not false-starting. You are holding it wrong. There is a defined “sweet-spot” and if you move off of it, things grind to a halt. This video from Goulet Pen Company goes into detail on this point:

Discussing the LAMY 2000: Quality Control

For years now we’ve been receiving emails and order comments requesting that we test our customers’ LAMY 2000 fountain pen nibs for “quality control” issues …

I love the way it writes. It’s smooth and there’s just the right amount of flex. The Makrolon doesn’t get clammy but warms to the touch. This makes the pen feel like an extension of my body and even my consciousness. My grip happens to work for the sweet-spot, so it doesn’t feel temperamental to me.

The Bottom Line

At $115-200 (depending where you look), the Lamy 2000 is not cheap. That said, it delivers more pen for your money than anything in that price range. I would still stand behind my recommendation of the Kaweco Al as the best pen for $50-100. But if you can afford that, I would say take the leap and go with the 2000 instead. For around twice the money, you get much more than twice the pen.

If what you’re looking for is a workhorse of pen, get yourself a 2000 and call it a day. If you’re a writer looking for something great to write with, your pen habit can start and end here.

For all its practicality and simplicity, there are a lot of intangibles at work in the appeal of this pen. Everything I’ve praised about it–the minimalism, the German engineering–could just as easily be turned on its head as a critique or even a parody by someone who doesn’t share my emotional bond with this tool. For a true pen connoisseur, for the kind of person who doesn’t think of pens as tools, I would still recommend a Lamy for your collection but only after you’ve acquired some others.

This is modern art, and it will leave you cold if you’re more of a Renoir person.

DISCLAIMER: This post contains affiliate links. All Amazon prices and availability are subject to change, and only current as of the time of publication of this review.

UNICEF Fountain Pen–the Children Deserve Better

This pen is a human rights violation.

On my last day in Spain, I went to the post office to send postcards to new subscribers. Waiting in line for stamps, I noticed a cup of fountain pens for sale on the counter. They were €7 and the proceeds went to UNICEF. I picked out the blue one to test out on my train ride to the airport.

I love discovering fountain pens in places I don’t expect to find them. I wanted to like this one. Unfortunately, the pen was terrible. I say “was”–past tense–because I have no intention of writing with it again, and I wouldn’t gift it to my worst enemy. It’s so bad. The profits may go to charity, but this pen is a human rights violation.

The problems began when I tried to identify the pen. It has the UNICEF logo stamped on the barrel, but they don’t make pens, as far as I know, so there must be some lowest bidder behind this one. There’s something etched on the nib (poorly) and eventually I deciphered it. “STYB.” It turns out this is a Spanish stationary company located not too far from Valencia. Their homepage is the website equivalent of this pen. I get the sense that they just don’t care, even though their “about” section boasts of their dedication to quality and the global trust their brand has earned. Their slogan is “passion for writing.”

The Writing Experience

The nib is built to suck. Its tines are at such a sharp angle that the pen scratches constantly no matter how you hold it. There is no sweet spot. There’s no breaking it in.

It has a good deal of flex, but that doesn’t do much for line variation, it just makes the pen leak more ink onto the page and lay down a wetter line that’s no wider.

Design and Looks

Design-wise, I couldn’t find too much wrong with it, apart from the cheap nib. This is a pocket-sized pen, just a couple centimeters longer than the Kaweco Sport.

The clip is flimsy. If you’re lucky, it’ll just fall out of your pocket one day and you’ll have to replace it with something not so horrible.

Ink

It takes an international short cartridge and or converter. This would probably make a great eye-dropper pen if it were worth writing with in the first place.

If you want to donate to UNICEF, just send them some money, and maybe see if one of the trick-or-treaters collecting for them has a pen she’s willing to give you.

If you’re in the market for a cheap pen, I suggest the Platinum Preppy or the Pilot Varsity. Both of these are cheaper than the UNICEF pen and they write way above their price-point.

As if this one hadn’t given me enough issues, it exploded on the flight home.

—Cape Cod, 2017

Pen Review: Platinum Preppy–the FREE Pen

That’s right, FREE. Noodler’s gives away the Platinum Preppy with their inks.

Alternatively, you can buy the Preppy on its own for $4.50 or a seven pack, in all the colors of the rainbow, for $16.

As for my review, it’d be tempting to say “what do you want? it’s a free pen.” But the fact is, this pen over-delivers in every way and outperforms most pens under $50.

The Writing Experience

…is awesome. I’m gonna be controversial and say this writes better than everyone’s favorite budget pen, the Lamy Safari. But it costs five times less than the Lamy.

The nib isn’t overly springy but it doesn’t feel like writing with a nail either (cough cough –Safari–cough cough.) Like other Japanese nibs, this one lays down a fine line. There is an “05” (medium) option but that’s harder to come by. The default is a western fine.

There’s no line variation whatsoever. So the preppy is not a budget option for fine writing.

Design and Looks

The barrel is covered in Japanese writing–at least on mine, which I bought in Japan–this is kind of fun, but it definitely marks it as a cheap pen. Like the Varsity, there’s a barcode on the barrel.

On the plus side, the barrel is transparent, so you always know exactly how much ink you have left.

The best feature of this pen–the one I wish other manufacturers would copy–is the air-tight cap. I’ve picked up my Preppy after many months of neglect and disuse and the nib was still wet. This makes it no more temperamental than a ballpoint pen.

Ink

The Preppy uses a proprietary cartridge that has a tiny metal ball in it. ~~Not sure what that’s for, but it means~~ This is to break the surface tension of the ink and improve the flow, but it means there’s a slight rattling in your pen.

I haven’t tried the Noodler’s option, but the Heart of Darkness, that includes this pen, is one of the most praised inks out there. It’s made in the USA and it’s permanent.

The coolest option is to convert your Preppy into an eyedropper pen. With a simple modification, you can fill the entire barrel with ink. Doing it this way gives you 2-3 times the capacity of a cartridge or or converter. The Noodler’s bottle comes with an eye dropper for just this purpose.

This video from Goulet Pens shows you how to convert your preppy:

How to Eyedropper Convert a Platinum Preppy

One of the best values in the fountain pen world is converting a Platinum Preppy fountain pen into an eyedropper pen, and here’s how. All you need is an o-ri…

The Bottom Line

Get yourself a Preppy, no matter who you are:

New to fountain pens? Start with the Preppy, it’s the perfect first pen.

So into fountain pens that you don’t want to write with anything else? Make the Preppy your everyday beater, fill your cup with Preppys.

Can’t justify an expensive pen but don’t like throwing your Varsities away? Get a preppy for $2 more.

Gifting a fountain pen? Buy a dozen Preppies and give them to all your friends. That’s what I did when I was in Japan.

Want to modify your pen or covert it to an eyedropper? the Preppy’s price means your experiments will never be too costly if they go wrong.

DISCLAIMER: This post contains affiliate links. All Amazon prices and availability are subject to change, and only current as of the time of publication of this review.

Pen Review: Pilot Varsity

The Pilot Varsity is a disposable fountain pen. I have to keep reminding myself of that fact as I review it.

It’s a disposable fountain pen, I don’t need to go too in-depth…

It’s a disposable fountain pen, maybe I should hold it to a different standard…

It’s a disposable fountain pen, isn’t that an oxymoron…

The Writing Experience

I mean, it’s designed to end up in the trash. That said, the Varsity is not an awful writer. Pilot seems to have made up for the cheapness by designing a very tolerant nib. It’s basically a ball that allows you to write from just about any angle. This is probably helpful for a newbie who’s used to holding a ballpoint pen vertically. I’ve given these to friends who write with the nib upside-down (metal facing the page) with no trouble.

But a nib that doesn’t care which way you hold it doesn’t give you much of a writing experience. There’s no line variation even when you practically press it through the page. Based on feeling alone I don’t know that I could tell the difference between a Varsity and a gel pen.

Design and Looks

Not too bad, considering it has a barcode printed on the barrel. The lines are super clean and it’s much more balanced that the Pilot Metropolitan, which costs eight times as much.

This feels like a fountain pen, not just a cheap pen with a nib at the business end of it, which is more than you can say for a lot of the more expensive models.

The Ink

I’ve owned a ton of these and I’ve never had one run out of ink. But then again, I’ve never been attached enough to write one dry. There’s a lot of ink in there, I know that much. Whether it’s enough to be cheaper than buying cartridges for a non-disposable pen–I doubt it.

The Bottom Line

There’s two kinds of people who will love this pen:

Someone who thinks $2 is expensive for a pen.

Someone who refuses to use anything but a fountain pen, even for grocery lists and whatnot.
You can buy the Pilot Varsity in bulk. A seven-pack goes for $12 and a set of three is $8. You can find these at Rite Aid and Staples.

DISCLAIMER: This post contains affiliate links. All Amazon prices and availability are subject to change, and only current as of the time of publication of this review.