Hello Darling Ones,

Now that the government has deemed me unable to work enough to support myself due to my disability I’ve been thinking about my career as a cog in the capitalist machine.

Really I’ve been thinking about Kinkos and, more specifically, resume paper.

You young’uns might not know that resume paper was a thing. According to a quick Google search it might still be a thing, but I suspect not quite as big a thing as it was before the turn of the century.

Back in my day (early to mid 90s) resume paper was a huge big deal and the paper you chose to print your resume on was a character-defining decision.

That paper was meant to telegraph who you were and exactly what kind of person you’d be hiring if you were to believe the resume. There were lots of theories and advice on the right kind of paper to use. Subtle, but not too subtle. White, but not too white. Perhaps a nice cream with some heft to it.

Since this was at the dawn of the useful internet this advice was passed down from graduating senior to soon-to-be graduating senior. We were led to believe the right resume paper would set you apart before they even read a word of your cover letter, resume, or clips.

We were journalism majors clips were also important, but before all else came the paper, which you got at Kinkos. At least me and most of my friends did. It was right across the bridge on Water Street, and they had an entire wall of paperly delights.

Many times I stood in front of that wall awestruck at all the choices trying to decide what kind of person I was and what kind I wanted to be. Even 30+ years ago I was crap at choosing just one thing. And I considered myself kind of a renegade. Some things never change.

I went with two kinds of resume paper. A lavender beauty with subtle purple speckles for the more conservative publications I’d be selling my talents to, and a multi-colored number that looked a little like it was made from torn bits of autumnal orange, brown, and green papers on a cream background for the cool magazine.

“It looks like you printed your resume on a crumpled Taco Bell wrapper,” my friend Melissa said, of this paper I was loved.

Character, defined.

If we still got jobs by mailing off our resumes, I’d probably choose the same damn paper. I’m not entirely sure how people get jobs now. I haven’t applied for a job since 2008. I found that one on Craigslist and emailed them the iwilldare URL (the job was for a blogger & I got it).

Thank you for strolling down memory lane with me. I hope you enjoyed your stay.

Love,
Jodi