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Caroline Weaver had no idea if it would work. “I just went into it blindly. There was no other shop like it, so I had nothing to compare it to,” she says, sitting behind her impeccably neat little desk in the back of her impeccably neat little store on the fringes of Chinatown in the Lower East Side, flanked on either side by 250 different pencils. It was a risky career move for Weaver, a 25-year-old Ohio transplant and art graduate from Goldsmiths University of London, seeing as those pencils are really the only things her shop sells.
But despite any risk involved in her starting CW Pencil Enterprise, Weaver exudes assurance as she recounts her story. Her aesthetic and demeanor match her answers to my questions: prim, professional and just so. Her knowledge of pencils emerges with assurance and in such depth that one can’t help but regard them as something more than disposable, graphite-filled sticks — as products complete with history, nuanced construction and a complexity all their own.
“In the US we can go to Staples to buy pencils and they’ll have maybe three brands,” she says. “They’re not very good quality and they’re made in Mexico or Taiwan — they’re terrible pencils. Even art supply stores don’t sell very great pencils anymore.” Her intentions were always to expose the American pencil user to a world of vastly superior, though not-so-readily available, pencils.
But on a deeper level, Weaver knew she was accessing a very particular moment in modern-day consumption. “I think we’ve reached the point of technological advancement where now people are taking a step back and realizing that some things are better done by hand,” she says. “You don’t need to do everything on an iPad or an iPhone.”
So Weaver decided to sell pencils. She quit her job and dedicated a summer to contacting pencil companies, convincing them to sell her their product in bulk until eventually she amassed a whole closet. Weaver was perfectly content selling these pencils online, out of her apartment, until she happened upon the matchbox-sized storefront on the fringe of Chinatown that now houses all of her pencils and her blossoming business.
