During my studies, I bought a Rotring S0699570 Rapidograph College Set 4 in November 2019 – and I have not used it once since.

Part of this six-year stretch of non-use was that I simply had too much on my plate. Health issues, mostly.
The only thing I ever managed to do with them was clean them.

Which is exactly what I am doing today – and of course, it reminded me of all the other times I had done the same.

See that Tweet from 2022?

I pulled it from a Twitter data archive I requested some time ago.

And yes – that same nib (a 0.25 mm tubular nib, technically, not a “tip”) is on my mind now. Because I never asked other designers or artists about these pens, I have no idea whether this one works as intended – or if I damaged it through poor handling.

From memory: inside the cap is a small, soft ball that the nib pushes against when you screw the cap back on.
And if memory serves me right (and when it comes to criticism, it usually does), I think I once used more force than I should have – out of inexperience. Out of attached meaning. Out of how expensive the set was.

While syncing my archived Tumblr posts into OneNote, looking for the last time I wrote about cleaning these pens, I decided to write this as a warning.

Back in 2019, Rotring Rapidographs were already a rarity – almost a novelty gadget.
Between glowing reviews on German Amazon.de (mostly from before 2015) and seeing some artists in books in my library use these pens, I bought the set.

I bought something because of hype. I bought something because if real artists and if real designers use this product, then, haha, surely that purchase will turn me into a real artist, into a real designer myself!

And here’s the problem: finding replacement parts has become difficult.
The nib I suspect is faulty seems to have a damaged capillary system – it drips ink, so the first mark on paper is blotchy. Always.

Last week, when I visited boesner here in Stuttgart, I also checked for replacement Rotring pens.
Not just nibs, but the whole pen – because I had a feeling about how scarce the parts might be.

They didn’t have any Rotring products at all.

So I bought Microns instead.
Mass-produced, mass-used, disposable — the Bic biro of fineliners.

And now, this Monday after that Friday, I’ve made a foam bath for my Rapidograph 0.25 mm cap, nib, and holder, and I’ll just let it soak.

Maybe that will fix it. I have no idea. I am basically ready to move on from using them, see below why.

Because what I really need to let sink in is this: what I thought was an exclusive, prestige product – something I probably bought as a therapeutic measure against impostor syndrome – was truly exclusive only in the sense of market scarcity.

At the end of the day, working with gold leaf might give you a feeling of prestige, but you are still just gluing gold to paper for an effect.

If you ask me, go with the cheap, available, mass-produced.
Because otherwise it will be six years later, and you’ll never have had the nerve to use your “prestige” tool — because of all the meaning you’ve attached to it.

And in this case: throwaway beats sustainable.

Quelle: Code & Canvas