


It does seem a bizarre decision, but the pen is long enough and I never post my pens, so screw you guys that do. Pitchforks were waved when it was discovered that the M can’t post. It’s a hidden bit of playfulness in a dry design, and it furthers the minimalist agenda. I wish the magnets were stronger half the time I have to click the cap fully on manually anyway. Uncapping the pen you can feel the M’s signature magnetic closure, which keeps the nib, clip and plateau aligned for maximum Brand Aesthetics(TM). The clip looks cheap, although I think it’s a bit unfair to call it a Safari rip-off, as some do.Īnd the section looks squat and graceless, too short for the pen. It’s something about the proportions when capped… the barrel is too long or the cap too short. I even quite like the look of the ribbed ruthenium section, which catches the light (and fluff).īut the design isn’t that visually pleasing when you physically take a step back.

I’m a fan too of the two-tone rhodium and ruthenium nib, which has a Lamy Aion vibe to it (another pen designed by a famous name: Jasper Morrison instead of Marc Newson). It makes the pen edgy through asymmetry, something that is a break from the turned past of pens.Īnd it gives me a view of the snowcap when I’m writing, in a really neat way. The plateau is a truly unusual design feature that is executed through taking away, instead of bolting on - how minimal. The Montblanc snow caps look great on such a stripped-back canvas.Īnd the much-hated “plateau” really succeeds. Perfectly average size for universal appealĪnd to an extent this approach works.It almost seems like an alternative take on the Lamy 2000 design brief: Visually, there’s a lot to like about the M. And I liked the pop of orange around the base of the section, which gives some life to a very stern design. I liked the Ultra Black’s matte finish, which fits with the modernist lines of the pen. Shout out to The Pen Shop for super speedy service, both in answering my questions and getting the pen to me next day. I ordered the Ultra Black version, which seems to be discontinued, and therefore automatically became more desirable to me. I figured that any pen that stuck in my mind for two years is probably worth owning once, and I wanted to see whether the criticism was justified. I still went ahead and bought one anyway. In other words, I knew what I was getting myself into. Lots of other people don’t like it because, well, it probably isn’t that great a pen to use (spoiler alert). Montblanc haters don’t like it because it’s covered in snowcaps, and is £500. Montblanc fans don’t like it because it’s an outlier in the portfolio, driven by a designer’s vanity to look good instead of writing well. And it’s clear that this is not a popular pen in our community.

I’ve read plenty of well-regarded reviews. I’ve held it (briefly) in airport boutiques. This is not some never-before-seen pen, bought as a brave experiment to satisfy your curiosity, dear reader. Well, that’s me with buying the Montblanc M. You ever had a situation where you knew you were making a really stupid decision, but you did it anyway out of fatalism, or curiosity?
