An Accidental Grail

I’ve been on the lookout for a teal Parker 51 with a Lustaroy cap for a long time. I used to own one and loved writing with it. I eventually gifted it to one of my best friends—at the time, it was my favorite pen, and what better way to reaffirm a friendship than to give him the pen I used to write so many blog posts?

But that didn’t mean I didn’t want one for myself. As a design nerd, I’ve always had a soft spot for the Parker 51. It’s one of those rare objects where form, function, and history click into place so cleanly that it feels inevitable.

It’s a pen that predates “mid-century modern” as a label yet embodies its values. It has quiet confidence, subtle engineering, and an elegance born from utility. It is a nod to modernity. It is of its time, and yet timeless. That’s why the 51 gets under my skin: it’s not just beautiful, it’s thoughtfully beautiful.

So for a few years I kept searching, but never found any. Experts told me it was unlikely I’d come across one again. There was a hideously expensive modern version, but I didn’t want that.

What I wanted was a normal, old-fashioned aerometric filler in teal, with a pristine, matte steel cap. This month, I found one. And then another. I bid on both, put in a high bid, and went to sleep. Oops.

Now I had two—after years of having none.

Fast forward to last week: while browsing Reddit’s PenSwap, I saw another one. This time it was “new old stock,” with an oblique medium nib. I love obliques. I mean, that’s how I write. So, of course, I bought it.

It arrived last evening, and I still can’t believe how perfect it is. It writes like magic, looks pristine, and even the cap—though not the plain-Jane matte steel—is stunning. It literally has my name on it.

I’m not entirely sure what the word “grail” is supposed to mean in the pen world, but this pen seems to embody that idea. Still, I’d call it an accidental grail.

November 25, 2025. San Francisco