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Personalised Leather Journal - Acacia
21Acacia Leather Journal: Your Impeccable Companion
Introducing the Acacia Leather Journal, a handcrafted masterpiece that transcends the boundaries of mere notebook functionality. Beyond a repository for your thoughts, it becomes your steadfast partner for documenting travel adventures, channeling creativity through sketches, weaving poetic tapestries, and creating cherished gifts. The essence of this journal lies in the impeccable buffalo leather, secured with an elegant wrap tie, ensuring your memories remain eternally vivid.
Revealing the Craftsmanship:
Journal Size: 13cm x 18cm (5" x 7")
Material Outer Cover: Genuine Buffalo Leather
Material Inner Pages: Luxurious Plain Handmade Paper
Total Pages: Approximately 130
Colour: A Warm Shade of Brown
Personalisation for That Extra Touch:
To add a personal dimension, we offer monogram personalisation, allowing you to create an exceptional gift that resonates with your heartfelt sentiments.
A Commitment to Sustainability:
Within this vintage-style journal lies a commitment to sustainability, with its pages meticulously crafted from recycled materials, encompassing repurposed paper and tree leaves. Every word you write is a tribute to your dedication to preserving our environment.
Comes Complete with a Branded Box and Dust Bag:
Enhancing your experience, the Acacia Leather Journal arrives beautifully presented in a bespoke branded box, ensuring it maintains its allure from the moment it reaches your hands. Additionally, we've included a protective dust bag, acknowledging the importance of safeguarding your cherished journal.
Effortless Delivery Across Australia:
Our commitment to you extends to seamless shipping, with free delivery available across Australia. It's our way of ensuring this exceptional piece of craftsmanship reaches your doorstep with ease.
Proudly Australian-Owned and Operated Since 2015:
We take immense pride in our Australian heritage and have operated independently since 2015, contributing to the promotion of local creativity and craftsmanship.
The Acacia Leather Journal is not just a journal; it's your steadfast companion on a journey of self-discovery, creativity, and exploration. Select it as the canvas for your thoughts, dreams, and artistic expressions, or as the cherished gift that encapsulates special moments for your loved ones.
Email: store@vintageleather.com.au
Call us: 0291358742
Address: PO Box 4102 Robina QLD 4230 Queensland Australia.
Just great
So happy with the journal, perfect size, amazing quality leather, wild buy again for a gift or myself. Highly recommend!!
Such a perfect journal
Blisteringly fast shipping and brilliant communication. This would make a perfect gift.
Fear and Loathing in Waramanga
Jesus, what fresh **** is this? I weighed the leather-bound journal in my trembling hands like some kind of sacred tome, its soft, decadent surface marred only by a faint whiff of whisky and regret. The ****** pages— their tantalizing calliper and deckled edges—screamed with potential, as blank as the glazed stare of a burned-out Vegas dealer at 4 a.m. My attorney—that magnificent *******—had procured this relic with the same calculated madness he applied to everything else: a perfect blend of chaos and intention. “It’s for your lists,” he said, his voice dripping with that peculiar brand of nihilism. Lists? The ******* who gave me this thing clearly had no idea. My life was a ******* manifesto of mess, a sprawling litany of dull-eyed suburban banality and half-hearted escapes. Two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half-full of *******, and a galaxy of uppers, downers, screamers, laughers—****, add a quart of gin, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen nangs just to keep the wheels greased. So the journal awaited. That journal.. That was supposed to be the holy grail of my salvation. I flipped it open with a deep drag on my jazz cigarette, feeling the smoke smudge the ink as it left a sickly trail across the page. I scrawled the words: Fear and Loathing in Nangor. Maybe this was it. Just maybe this would spit me out and replace me with something worthwhile. Maybe. My attorney, sat across from me in his usual spot—his bloated silhouette, stinking of his breakfast souvlaki with the remnant stains to prove it. He was gnawing on a cigar like it owed him money, his pin ***** eyes scanned around, searching for meaning in the infinite void of the room, while he tried to add some semblance of flair to my list of destruction. "Two busted knees, freeloading children, a soul weathered by the the cult-like grins of the school board meetings, they'd already ***** the Kool-Aid" he muttered under his breath, as if it were scripture. "Laundry detergent, painkillers, vodka, existential purpose," he added, sounding more like a grocery list for a doomed soul or perhaps a savior of sanity. I couldn't help but laugh. The ******* had a point. The journal, like the world around me, was full of the same melancholic platitudes that weighed us all down. "You’re always ******** about your petty grievances—parking tickets, the price of lettuce, the neighbor's bhangra at 3 a.m —and I figured you needed somewhere... sacred," he said, finishing his cigar and tossing it to the floor, a vile ember of suburban revolt. Sacred,.. ****. I was looking forward to losing my mind. The chaos had already begun. I sketched the outline of a phoenix in the margin,.. anything could happen. Absolutely ******* anything.
Book & cover.
Great for fountain pens 🖋️. For traveling.
