Before Christmas gets too far away from us (I write this as if it already hasn't, ha), I wanted to return to our friends at The Old Try. They say the gift is for the giver, right? Well, we've enjoyed our letterpress poster so much that I've been tempted to snap up some more and redo our whole family room. Not an option, said Jon. But I snapped them up anyway. Yes, that's right. I snapped 'em right up and gave them to my four brothers on Christmas morn. My brothers--Kevin, Brendan, Martin, and Peter--are, after all, young, fine gentlemen now. (A male by birth, a man by age, and a gentleman by choice, is that right?) And young, fine gentlemen need proper wall art to make a proper home. So I bought four letterpresses I thought best matched their personalities (or where they currently call home), wrapped them, and ordered Bogie to guard them until after Santa finished his deliveries.
A small digression: When giving a proper gift for a proper home, one must ensure the recipients are properly attired. It being Christmas morning, I knew I'd be working with brothers in pajamas, so I brainstormed a way to gussy-up the lads. What makes fine, young gentlemen in their loungewear ever more refined? What could stand up next to such strong typography and Southern wit? Why moustaches, I say. So I ordered some emergency moustaches--perfect when you need a moustache in a pinch.
The boys--ahem--I mean gentlemen, dawned their moustaches with grace then opened their letterpresses in the parlour (read: my parents' family room). For Kevin, we gifted some Southern manners; Brendan, the brother living large in Atlanta, got himself some "Jaw Jah"; Martin, the man up in Boston, got Old Iron Side's flag; and PJ, our family's token ginger, the fife and drum. They were, I dare say, very impressed. Thank you--again--The Old Try.