It’s been a regular haunt of the family pretty much since we arrived in BC 25 years ago, but I swear I always seem to discover a new track I’ve never walked on, every time I visit.
I was particularly taken with two views up into the trees. Within metres of each other, I could look up and see, harsh against the clear fristy frosty sky a group of trees still mourning the passing of the old year and the lingering cold weather (we’ve been fortunate to have no snow or significant freezes here in the lower mainland as yet), and then just a few paces down the path another group looking all hopeful and expectant for what the coming year might bring. (Yes, yes, I know all about deciduous and evergreen trees, I don’t need anyone to explain that, thank-you).
There’s a lot of shit going on in the world right now but maybe take an hour or so and go for a walk in nature. There’s nothing quite like it to recalibrate what’s important and how we fit into things.
Feeling quite pleased with myself, I then blew it all by pigging out at C-Lovers when we got home: treating myself to haddock and chips, with a pint and some onion rings to start, and a buttered bread bun, so I could cap it off with a chip butty. Glorious!
A fancy bun-based chip butty, as enjoyed at C-Lovers. Image source: The Guardian
So I occasionally enjoy online content from Elle Cordova, mainly because she’s smart and erudite, but also because she often talks about fonts and grammar. A fellow nerd, one might say. (Or not, if one doesn’t consider oneself that way inclined.)
Anyway, I recently came across an old posting of hers where she covers Peggy Seeger’s I’m Gonna be an Engineer.
It appealed because of its firm feminist message, if a little sad at recounting the oft-wasted talents of our fairer sex. I assumed both Mss (plural Ms?) Cordova and Seeger were Americans, so suddenly sat upright when I heard the British engineering company of Vickers mentioned (in a typically misogynistic scene, as one might expect).
Being who I am, I felt the irresistible urge to investigate, and discovered that Ms Seeger did indeed spend a significant chunk of time in the UK until 1994, and she felt the urge to return to pretty Oxford in 2010. I confess I’d never previously heard of her, but I’m glad that Ms Cordova had, and introduced me to this sadly timeless indictment of how little we’ve moved forward in recognising the value and skills of 50% of our species!
For the record, when I was studying Computing & Electronics at Durham University back in the early 80s (it was a new thing, and few universities even offered courses specifically in computing back then), there was only one female on the course. Actually, I think there were only 8 or so of us on the entire course, so I suppose statistically speaking that was actually pretty good for the times we were in! The more general Engineering course (acknowledged as one of the toughest around, at the time) had, I believe, 5 females in the cohort – a much lower percentage given the popularity of the course. Several years later when I was working at a software/electronics company we had only a single female engineer in the whole company.
To my personal knowledge these few women have had successful careers in engineering areas as diverse as the North Sea oil fields and designing the future of electrically powered light aircraft.
We’re mad to undervalue (or even completely ignore) the potential contributions of half our population simply because of prejudice and biology. I have two daughters, both brought up to not take shit from anyone – especially men. And yes: they’re both way smarter than me.
OK, so right up front, I should confess that the title is a gross simplification, and though there are indeed three contenders I shall be talking about, none of them was perfect. Or Clint Eastwood, for that matter.
Recent readers will recall that I was on a quest to recreate (within reason) traditional “Bank of England” style sealing wax. The particular qualities of this wax are that it is glossy when cool and that it snaps with a satisfying crack when tampered with. If you don’t recall the journey or just want to see the final recipe I used, check here.
The result, I must boast, was A-MAZING!
The photo does it no justice at all, but let me assure you it is as shiny as glazed porcelain and very hard to the touch. It also snaps delightfully when one tries to manipulate it (i.e. bend it to open a letter).
But nothing is perfect…
It was a complete pain to use! It turns out that the traditional recipe I used (heavy on the shellac and colophony) results in maximum viscosity close to the melting temperature. Basically this means that if you’re using a typical wax melting spoon/stove then the molten wax is like toffee and quite hard to manipulate. It sticks to anything you may be using to stir it with; it even sticks to the original wax stick making it hard to separate and melt a quantity of wax off the end in the first place. If you can overcome this though, the resulting pour and seal are beautiful.
So I read up on how to improve the molten characteristics… and discovered they were entirely as predicted! This is indeed how traditional sealing wax behaved back in the day. Staying traditional, it seems the behaviour can be much improved without impacting gloss or hardness by the addition of Venice Turpentine (not actually turpentine but another resin – this time from the larch [Monty Python reference unintended!]). It turns out it’s also used by horse owners to improve the quality of their hooves. Those of the horses, not the owners, just to be clear. I may acquire some at a future date, but for now I’ll just put up with the pulled-nougart experience if I use it in a spoon (it melts fine straight from the stick but this can cause sootiness in the pour).
Not one to leave an avenue entirely unexplored though, I asked my new not-entirely-trustworthy friend ChatGPT what might be possible using “modern style” sealing wax recipes in order to obtain a similar result – at least visually. It furnished me with the following recipe, which I used in conjunction with the previously explored “British Racing Green” wax recipe.
So I opted for the “Ultra-gloss” version, and I have to admit… it looked pretty damned good! Not THAT easy to pour, to be honest, but most definitely more syruppy and less like toffee. Once set though, it looked very glossy.
I think you can see from the photo that the result has a very high gloss, though the poor lighting doesn’t really do the lovely deep dark green justice. In terms of pure visual impact, this is probably just as good as the “genuine” BoE wax in the first example. The difference quickly becomes obvious once you touch the seal though. It has a distinctly rubbery feel and is quite flexible when you bend it. Totally fine for most modern uses I would think, but not really what I need for my letterlocking projects.
I haven’t tried it yet, but I would imagine that adding ~30% shellac to standard modern wax beads may very well produce a similar gloss finish.
Just to complete the comparison I melted a standard modern sealing wax stick just to see how glossy it was in comparison.
Oddly, I would say the default commercial modern wax was MORE glossy in the stamped area, but very matte in the surounding unstamped area. Entirely the inverse of the previous one! I can only surmise that the pressure of the brass stamp while the wax was still molten was enough to “polish” the surface. You can see quite clearly in the top photo though that this is the only wax that doesn’t have any gloss in the unstamped regions.
I may try some further experimenting with adding shellac to off the shelf modern waxes to see if I can emulate the look of Bank of England wax, but for my own longer term needs, “the real deal” will more fully meet my needs, as the crack of the seal as my correspondents open their locked letters is a key part of my intended experience for them.
Another? Well, yes! In trying to find any information on my Mentmore Diploma (it’s etched in the barrel, so I know that’s what it is! 🙂 ), I came across a post from a decade or so ago on GoodWritersPens with pretty much the same pen and a lengthy discussion in the comments about whether it was a one-off/Frankenpen/trial…
The thing is the barrel is almost clear. Not a demonstrator as such – there is some “cracked ice” pattern in the celluloid, but most of it is see-through. The cap though is a solid blue/black cracked ice pattern – the cap of the one featured on GoodWritersPens seems more pale green/grey paired with the black. The celluloid has obviously become discoloured through aging (it’s likely a 1930s/1940s pen), but I’m not sure if it was ever totally clear, or perhaps was manufactured with some sort of tint.
It’s a button filler with a lovely 14CT gold nib. Very easy to write with. Other than that – I really don’t know much about it, other than what’s already at the link above.
Mentmore Diploma: button filler, 14CT gold nibAn unusual little thingMentmore Diploma; Made in EnglandMentmore; OSMIRIDIUM; 14CT GOLD
So yesterday my order of shellac arrived. Today I made my first ever stick of “real” Bank of England style sealing wax, made (mostly) in the traditional way. Everything was cooked in one glass yoghurt pot at low “simmer” temperatures. Everything melts at less than 100°C, so keep things low and steady. Avoid bubbles and scorching by trying to speed things up with higher temperatures.
“Bank of England” sealing wax (late 18th–early 19th c.) was typically:
Shellac – primary hard, glossy binder
Colophony (rosin) – increases brittleness and flow
Minimal wax – just enough to prevent crumbling
Mineral filler (often chalk) – opacity and snap
Pigment – vermilion, lampblack, Prussian blue, etc.
I was using modern paraffin wax crayon for wax/pigment. I’d pre-melted/mixed and cooled it into a bar so I didn’t have to try hitting a target colour with small shavings of crayon during the blending of the resins and potentially adding too much wax overall, or ending up with an unexpected colour.
The recommended “core recipe” was as follows. This produces a very hard, brittle, glossy wax that snaps cleanly and takes a sharp impression. The ChatGPT session then offered some minor tweaks to target specific behaviours.
Base formula (20 g batch)
Ingredient
Mass (g)
Function
Shellac flakes (orange or blonde)
8 g
Hard glossy binder
Colophony (rosin)
7 g
Brittleness, melt flow
Beeswax
2 g
Processability only
Calcium carbonate (chalk)
2 g
Snap, opacity, tooth
Crayon pigment
1 g
Colour
Total: 20 g
Why this ratio works
Shellac ≥ 40% → glassy, shiny fracture
Rosin nearly equal → sharp snap, low elasticity
Beeswax capped at 10% → avoids bending
Chalk ≈ 10% → authentic brittleness and matte fracture interior
This composition is much closer to archival recipes than modern EVA wax beads.
Optional adjustments (whilst staying authentic)
Increase brittleness (very “bank note” snap)
+1 g colophony
−1 g beeswax
⚠️ Do not drop beeswax below 1 g per 20 g or it may crumble while cooling.
Increase gloss (for show seals)
+1 g shellac
−1 g calcium carbonate
Slightly easier melting (still traditional)
+1 g beeswax
−1 g colophony
This is about the maximum wax you should use.
Colouring with crayons (safe & accurate)
Crayons are mainly paraffin + pigment, so treat them as wax + colour, not pure pigment.
General rule
1 g crayon ≈ 0.7 g wax + 0.3 g pigment
Compensate by reducing beeswax slightly if using >1 g crayon
What I actually used…
8g colophony (melt first – it can take a while)
8g shellac flakes
2g calcium carbonate (finely ground powder as used in paper making and other crafts)
2g wax crayon for colour – I used some of the purple I’d blended from earlier experiments
The resulting mixture becomes very hard to work with as soon as it cools even slightly, so it was quite hard to pour and form into the mould, and left an annoyingly high amount in the glass jar afterwards. This did not go well with my Yorkshire “waste not, want not” genes, so I added a bit more crayon and half an EVA glue stick just to bulk it up and have enough for a “half pour”. This was still hard to incorporate into the leftovers, as the mix was very stretchy and hard to release from the bamboo skewer I was using to stir things with. Hopefully the shellac/colophony will make this a bit more shiny than typical modern glue/crayon mixes. At least there’s less to clean out of the jar!
Note how glossy the cooled bar is. It has that satisfying glassy sound when you tap it on something hard. I have very high hopes it will form brittle seals once I give it a go. You can see near the top of the photo the more muted tone from the dregs I added EVA and more crayon to. A very different result, with an almost rubbery flexibility compared to the high rigidity of the Bank of England style bar.
My local pusher had done a deal with his London cartel contacts at the end of last year, and shown me a lovely selection of Mabie Todd Swan and Blackbird pens he’d come into possession of. Being a decent sort, and knowing my penchant for such finery, he’d offered me first refusal and the time to scrape together the necessary funds.
Today we met for coffee, and rather like a more refined and far less sleazy wartime spiv, he unzipped his pen case and displayed his wares. Amongst the various Mabie Todds were three or four colourways of the model SM205 Self-filler.
According to Stephen Hull’s impressive “The Swan Pen”, the SM205/83 was made in 1939/1940. I swear I have no connection with Stephen Hull, but I notice that this particular pen is featured on the front cover of his book, just as my BT200/81 was featured on the back!
The SM100 series had the same snake skin finish but silver trim and no band on the cap. The filler lever is made of ebonite and this example has stayed a lovely matte black. A matching “Fyne Poynt” propelling pencil was also available at the time. The pen was available in a range of other colours and finishes, including:
/59 Italian Marble
/60 Black (chased)
/84 Jade Snake Skin
/85 Ruby Snake Skin
/86 Grey Snake Skin
Mabie Todd Swan Self-filler Model 205/83
Nib says: SWAN; 3; H; 14C-585; ENGLAND Model SM205/83, showing blue coloured snake skin pattern
Unfortunately poor lighting makes the pen look greenish in some of the photos, but it is in fact a lovely blue tone.
For those not born with all the lyrics to every Beatles song ingrained already in their neocortex, my chosen blog title is the second line of “Blackbird“, and I though it quite apt for my musings on the eventual return of my Mabie Todd Blackbird BT200/81 (green/gold/black celluloid).
Regular readers may recall it was gifted to me in 2023 by dear, long-suffering Mrs E, but that I only got around to having it locally serviced back in May 2025. Well… that turned into a saga, and it was quickly made obvious why Mrs E.’s earlier attempt to get it fixed in the UK had come to naught.
As I’d mentioned in the earlier blog entry, the factory was bombed during the war, and later builds of the pen used a small bulb filler under the blind cap as opposed to the earlier plunger filler. However, there was also an earlier modification whereby the threaded seating for the spring and plunger was replaced by a glued-in plug for the plunger to slide through.
What I’d assumed was a simple cleaning job and replacing the long-gone rubber sheath over the spring (which creates the vacuum to suck ink into the barrel of the pen), was actually much more involved. The seating of the spring had a crack which meant replacing the rubber would be fruitless as no vacuum was possible without it being replaced. It’s not even shown in the disassembly photo from the repairer, as it was destroyed on removal. Of course, my pen was of the slightly later version that had a glued-in plug and so the damaged part could not be screwed out, but needed carefully boring out. The repairer then needed to procure a lathe and fashion a new gasket from ebonite in order to undertake the repair. It’s not like one can still buy spare parts for 1930’s pens…
All that just to say it took a lot longer than anyone expected, but the result is a fine looking pen with a less common colourway and a barrel that is still clear, despite being yellowed by time.
Looking forward to inking it up and checking out that lovely soft nib…
So before we begin, I should underline that this blog entry is a recollection of my own experience and not intended as a set of firm rules. Nor indeed do I claim any invention or novel way of mixing colours or creating sealing wax recipes. There are plenty of excellent tutorials and variations on the themes I’ll discuss here that can be obtained elsewhere. As is so often the case these days – check the sources and validate what you’re reading!
Some time ago my New Zealand pen pal introduced me to the history of letterlocking. It sounded so interesting that I ordered a book from the library, going by the imaginative title of “Letterlocking – the hidden history of the letter”. This is actually a relatively academic tome by Jana Dambrogio and Daniel Smith, though does include lots of diagrams and references to other sources if you’d like to recreate any of the locked letters that are discussed. It was written with the aid of the Unlocking History Research Group.
Basically a hoard of 17th and 18th century letters was discovered in the Netherlands (The Brienne Collection). They had been undelivered and many were left unopened and this gave a real insight into how letters were secured for postage before the invention of the gummed envelope in the late 19th century. Basically letterlocking provided a secure method of mailing one’s letter using a sometimes quite sophisticated form of folding to ensure that the the contents remained hidden from casual view, and depending on the specific method used also provided means for the recipient being able to tell if the letter packet had been meddled with prior to delivery. If you’re interested in learning more there are several YouTube videos by the group. My particular favourite is the spiral lock as used by Queen Elizabeth the 1st and others.
One of the other aspects of using these more traditional methods of securing mail is the use of sealing wax which prior to the invention of common adhesives and pre-gummed envelopes was a very common means of sealing closed a letter, prior to delivering to the recipient. So, not one to leave a challenge unanswered I read the book and began experimenting with learning how to form these letterlocked missives. In doing so I naturally started to read and learn about sealing wax, though in the short term I merely made a gesture towards the original use by sealing closed my letters with a cartoon sticker or similar.
By sheer fluke Mrs E. had discovered an unused stick of sealing wax at the back of a long-untroubled drawer and gave this to me. This wax was of a style known as Bank of England sealing wax and is a more traditional form with a very brittle and glossy finish. It’s hard to find these days, and expensive, but in times of yore this allowed the recipient to more easily detect if the letter had been interfered with as the wax was made to be deliberately brittle and any attempt to disturb it typically caused the seal to shatter and so be evidence of tampering. As the name implies it was commonly used for bank and other official documents where security or privacy was more of an issue.
More modern waxes are used primarily for creative journal entries or decoration such as on wedding invitations. Nowadays it is more important that those seals remain intact through the rough handling of modern mail sorting systems rather than act as an indicator of interference with the sealed contents. Modern waxes therefore have chemicals that provide much more elasticity and allow those seals to remain robust through rough handling.
As I learned more about sealing wax I came to learn that these more modern decorative waxes, available in a multitude of colours in either beads or larger sticks (with or without wicks to avoid the need of a melting spoon/stove), are actually a mixture of essentially hot gun glue and paraffin wax. EVA glue is a versatile, thermoplastic adhesive made from Ethylene Vinyl Acetate copolymer and provides adhesion and flexibility (if you like it) or rubberiness (if you don’t!). Modern waxes are intended to hold the shape of a seal but remain pliable and have a short shelf life. Short is a relative term here, compared to traditional sealing wax which may remain crisp, clear and easily identifiable decades or even hundreds of years after it was used to provide a seal.
People who use sealing wax for decoration often use small beads of various colours and melt them in a spoon over a tea candle. This allows a different mix of colours to be generated for each seal and provides lots of flexibility in a creative environment. The Internet provides various homemade alternative methods of creating this wax, the most typical being simply to blend bars of EVA glue intended for hot gun applications with crayons (essentially paraffin wax, colourants and fillers such as chalk or clay). This is a very cheap method and provides a perfectly adequate medium for most modern uses.
If you’d like to give this a go, I would suggest a ratio by weight of 2:1 glue to wax crayon. Chop the glue stick and crayons into small pieces (I found a pair of wire cutters helpful for this) to aid melting. As always: be patient and use low heat rather than trying to speed things up with higher heat and potentially causing a dangerous situation. The tea light stoves are inherently lower heat but can still get overheated if not constantly watched and the wax constantly mixed with a cocktail stick or similar.
Remember: the melting point of wax crayons and EVA is around 80°C-90°C: less than boiling water! It isn’t necessary to have a raging bonfire under your creative venture.
The next level would be to try and be more traditional in the resulting seal colour, while still using only these easily obtainable materials available in any dollar store. Naturally this was a course I felt required to take and took an inexpensive trip to my local dollar store to acquire sticks of EVA glue and a packet of 24 Crayola crayons. Early experiments, though not entirely unsuccessful, resulted in ambiguous at best colours and not at all how I imagine traditional seals would look. A total lack of any training in colour theory or a history of art almost certainly didn’t help!
Again – I can’t emphasise enough that keeping the heat low, and patiently stirring the mixture until it is fully combined is essential to a good result. The final warm mixture should by syruppy, and not stringy (like melted glue). Keep stirring and warming the mixture until everything is fully combined. Since EVA glue typically has a slightly higher melting point than paraffin wax in crayons, you may have more success if you begin by melting the glue on its own then adding the crayons. Any hint of bubbling or smoking and the mixtuire is too hot and needs to be removed from the heat source immediately.
In my case, sealing performance was good, with a 2:1 ratio producing bars that were easy melting, and provided good crisp seal images. The resulting wax was similar to bought wick-based sealing waxes I’d acquired – flexible in use and a little dull in colour. Not as brittle or glossy as the one stick of Bank of England wax I had.
Long time readers will be aware that I have a deep distrust of Artificial Intelligence, one of many cases of “just because you can, doesn’t mean you should”. Yet my view as an ex-programmer of many years is that if the tool is restricted to a small domain, it can still be useful. My use case here was essentially as a small adjunct to what I felt could already be obtained with Google searches and so I felt comfortable using ChatGPT by OpenAI to help me with the next couple of steps. Those who would like to know more about OpenAI’s trajectory over the years might do well to read Empire of AI by Karen Hao
So, thinking like a programmer in a stepwise Lego building block manner, I opened a ChatGPT session and asked it to list each of the 24 colours in a standard Crayola crayon packet along with approximate RGB values of each colour. This would “plant” this data as assumed context in any future requests. Strictly speaking, RGB colour space is defined for light emitting systems such as computer and phone screens. However it is a reasonable approximation for reflective light measurement such as our perceived colours when looking at solid items. For example Crayola crayons.
ChatGPT very helpfully provided me with a table, but I subsequently found (as is unfortunately often the case with AI queries…) that it had errors and omissions. Should you wish to follow in my tracks, you may find the following table more useful – it’s from Wikipedia and peer reviewed, so hopefully a little more reliable.
Source: Wikipedia
What’s left of my stock of wax colours
Next, I asked ChatGPT to provide me with a list of traditional sealing wax colours used in the 18th and 19th centuries. This is a quite specific time range becaused during the 19th century the entire industry of artificial dye creation was born and grew; particularly in Germany and the rest of Europe and so very many new colours became available artificially for fabrics, paints and in this case sealing wax!
Again I did no fact checking to see if this list is accurate though it seems reasonable for my casual interest and so we have a set of RGB values as targets to potentially aim for when creating our own versions of traditional coloured sealing waxes.
Core Traditional Sealing Wax Colours
1. Vermilion / Treasury Red (Most iconic)
Use: Official documents, royal correspondence, Bank of England, legal papers
Appearance: Deep warm red, slightly orange-leaning
Pigments: Vermilion (HgS), later iron oxide red
Approx RGB: RGB(160, 35, 30)
Variants:
Brighter vermilion: RGB(180, 45, 35)
Darker treasury red: RGB(130, 30, 30)
2. Crimson / Blood Red
Use: Aristocracy, personal seals, clergy
Appearance: Darker, cooler red than vermilion
Pigments: Carmine, madder lake
Approx RGB: RGB(120, 25, 40)
3. Black
Use: Legal, mourning correspondence, severe or formal use
Appearance: Very dark brown-black rather than pure black
Pigments: Lamp black, bone black
Approx RGB: RGB(25, 20, 20)
Warm black variant: RGB(35, 25, 20)
4. Dark Brown / Seal Brown
Use: Commercial, legal, shipping documents
Appearance: Rich resinous brown
Pigments: Burnt umber, natural resin colour
Approx RGB: RGB(85, 55, 35)
5. Gold / Yellow
Use: Nobility, ceremonial, ecclesiastical
Appearance: Muted ochre or amber gold (not metallic)
Pigments: Yellow ochre, orpiment
Approx RGB: RGB(190, 150, 60)
Dark amber variant: RGB(165, 120, 55)
6. Green
Use: Government departments, estate correspondence
Appearance: Dark, sober green (never bright)
Pigments: Verdigris, chrome green (19th c.)
Approx RGB: RGB(45, 75, 45)
Dark olive variant: RGB(60, 80, 40)
7. Blue
Use: Less common; scholarly or diplomatic
Appearance: Very dark navy / indigo
Pigments: Prussian blue, indigo
Approx RGB: RGB(35, 45, 80)
Nearly black blue: RGB(25, 30, 55)
8. Purple / Imperial Purple
Use: Rare; ceremonial or ecclesiastical
Appearance: Deep wine-purple, almost black
Pigments: Cochineal + blue
Approx RGB: RGB(75, 35, 65)
9. White / Ivory (Rare, fragile)
Use: Court presentation, weddings
Appearance: Warm off-white, easily discoloured
Pigments: Chalk, lead white
Approx RGB: RGB(230, 220, 200)
Less Common but Documented Colours
Colour
Use
Approx RGB
Orange-red
Late 18th c. decorative
RGB(200, 80, 40)
Slate grey
Commercial / naval
RGB(90, 90, 95)
Olive brown
Military
RGB(85, 85, 45)
Historical Notes (Important Context)
Colour intensity was muted by resin content and aging
Wax darkens over decades due to oxidation
“Bright” modern sealing wax colours did not exist historically
Red dominance was both symbolic and practical (most stable pigment)
Most Historically Authentic Palette (If Choosing Only 5)
Treasury Red / Vermilion
Black
Seal Brown
Dark Green
Gold / Amber
Up to this point I had really only asked AI to perform Internet look ups of data I would assume is relatively easy to find were I inclined to look myself. (Though it was already proving less than perfect!) For the next step though I required a little more involvement and I asked ChatGPT to create mixing recipes using only the 24 colours available in the Crayola box to create melted wax as close as possible to each of the traditional sealing wax colours.
If you choose to repeat this or a similar experiment yourself, I suggest that you explicitly ask your AI tool of choice to provide both the target and the expected RGB values since as we all know, AI is prone to giving you an answer rather than the answer and being able to cross check the expected RGB value with the target RGB value will give you some idea of how close the result is expected to be. In my case, I also asked ChatGPT to limit its recipes to no more than 2 crayons (10g) of each colour, and to limit measures to increments of 1g (1/5 of a crayon) to help with measurements.
In practice, I believe it didn’t make full use of the options available to it, repeatedly sticking to just a few core colours.
Crayola Mixing Recipes To Match Traditional Colours – Maximum Of 2 Crayons (10g) of Each Colour
You may use up to 10 g of each individual Crayola colour total
Final yield may exceed 10 g
1 g increments only
Use only colours from a standard 24-count Crayola box
Maximise yield for each historical colour while staying close to target RGB
To maximise yield, each recipe below pushes one or two dominant crayons to (or very near) the 10 g limit, then adds supporting colours.
RGB mixing is treated as mass-weighted averaging of Crayola pigments (approximate but realistic).
Reference: Crayola 24 colours used
Red · Blue · Yellow · Green · Orange · Violet · Brown · Black · White
1. Treasury Red / Vermilion
Target RGB: 160, 35, 30
Recipe (15 g total)
Colour
g
Red
10
Orange
3
Brown
2
Yield:15 g
Anticipated RGB: ≈ 158, 48, 38
Why it works: Red is maxed; orange corrects hue; brown suppresses plastic brightness.
2. Crimson / Blood Red
Target RGB: 120, 25, 40
Recipe (14 g total)
Colour
g
Red
9
Violet
3
Brown
2
Yield:14 g
Anticipated RGB: ≈ 122, 45, 60
Note: Cooler and darker than vermilion, but still visibly red in seal thickness.
3. Historic Warm Black
Target RGB: 25, 20, 20
Recipe (15 g total)
Colour
g
Black
10
Brown
3
Blue
2
Yield:15 g
Anticipated RGB: ≈ 33, 30, 30
Note: Avoid pure black alone — this mix reads much more period-correct.
4. Seal Brown (Commercial / Legal)
Target RGB: 85, 55, 35
Recipe (16 g total)
Colour
g
Brown
10
Red
3
Yellow
3
Yield:16 g
Anticipated RGB: ≈ 96, 67, 42
✅ One of the closest matches overall Excellent depth and historical plausibility.
5. Gold / Amber
Target RGB: 190, 150, 60
Recipe (16 g total)
Colour
g
Yellow
10
Orange
3
Brown
2
White
1
Yield:16 g
Anticipated RGB: ≈ 187, 156, 88
Note: Reads as ochre/amber rather than metallic gold — historically correct.
6. Dark Government Green
Target RGB: 45, 75, 45
Recipe (16 g total)
Colour
g
Green
10
Brown
3
Black
2
Yellow
1
Yield:16 g
Anticipated RGB: ≈ 62, 88, 58
Note: Muted enough to avoid “modern bright green”.
Note: Crayola violet is weak; this is about as deep as possible without shellac pigments.
9. Ivory / Court White
Target RGB: 230, 220, 200
Recipe (14 g total)
Colour
g
White
10
Yellow
3
Brown
1
Yield:14 g
Anticipated RGB: ≈ 228, 218, 198
⚠️ Very soft wax; historically accurate but fragile.
Summary Table
Colour
Yield
Target RGB
Anticipated RGB
Treasury Red
15 g
160,35,30
~158,48,38
Crimson
14 g
120,25,40
~122,45,60
Black
15 g
25,20,20
~33,30,30
Seal Brown
16 g
85,55,35
~96,67,42
Gold / Amber
16 g
190,150,60
~187,156,88
Dark Green
16 g
45,75,45
~62,88,58
Dark Blue
14 g
35,45,80
~44,50,88
Imperial Purple
16 g
75,35,65
~90,55,82
Ivory
14 g
230,220,200
~228,218,198
Important Practical Note
Crayon colour:
Darkens slightly on cooling
Appears darker in thick seals than in thin pours
Compresses highlights due to paraffin opacity
So, many of these look closer to target in real wax seals than the RGB maths suggests.
OK so this gives us new melted wax colours that approximate the traditional sealing waxes. However it is still pure crayon and will behave as such. For the most trivial use of sealing wax this may be sufficient, though the result is essentially just a re-melted crayon and therefore will rub off on any paper or material that is pressed against the impression. Ideally we would prefer the wax seal to be harder wearing and for that we need additional ingredients. So once more I asked ChatGPT to provide recipes that approximate traditional sealing wax consistency and it provided a range of approximations, which are more brittle and more shiny. The resulting recipes are below.
You may find that asking exactly the same question provides slightly different recipes from your AI of choice, however the general point is that merely decorative waxes essentially just require a stabiliser such as EVA glue which provides stability and avoids the wax rubbing off and if you would prefer a more brittle traditional style then in addition you require something like rosin or ideally shellac to provide that “snap”. A small amount of powdered chalk (calcium carbonate – a common inert filler used in paper making and other crafts) can help increase the brittleness but can result in a dull (dare I say “chalky”?) result.
Recipe To Form a Hard, Shiny Sealing Wax with Crayons and Hot-Gun Glue.
Bank-of-England–style sealing wax is hard to replicate without shellac. That said, you can get surprisingly close using hot-glue–based composite wax if you bias the formulation toward brittleness, surface gloss, and low creep.
Below are practical, tested-style formulations that use readily available ingredients, measurable in 1g increments, and compatible with melted crayon pigments.
First: What We’re Trying to Emulate
Traditional brittle sealing wax properties:
High shellac content → hardness & brittleness
Low plasticizer → clean break when snapped
Glossy surface
Melts viscous, not watery (prevents paper soak)
Adheres to surface fibers, not absorbed
Hot glue is too flexible on its own, so we must de-plasticize and stiffen it.
Recommended Base Materials (Easy to Source)
Material
Role
Clear hot glue sticks (EVA)
Structural binder
Crayon wax (your mixes)
Colour + stiffness
Rosin/Colophony (violin bow rosin or pine rosin)
Brittleness, gloss, hardness
Microcrystalline or paraffin wax
Controls melt behavior
(Optional) calcium carbonate (chalk)
Increases snap, reduces flexibility
Rosin is the single most important additive for brittleness.
Formula 1: Hard, Glossy, Semi-Brittle Sealing Wax (Best Overall)
This is the best balance for paper safety, shine, and hardness.
Recipe (10 g batch)
Ingredient
Grams
Clear hot glue
4 g
Crayon wax (your chosen colour mix)
3 g
Rosin (crushed)
2 g
Paraffin wax
1 g
Properties
Hard, glossy surface
Snaps if bent sharply
Does not remain rubbery
Excellent adhesion to paper surface
Minimal bleed-through
Estimated hardness: ~70–80% of traditional shellac wax
Formula 2: Maximum Brittleness (Closest to Bank of England Style)
This sacrifices a bit of adhesion for clean fracture.
Recipe (10 g batch)
Ingredient
Grams
Clear hot glue
3 g
Crayon wax
3 g
Rosin
3 g
Paraffin wax
1 g
Properties
Clearly brittle
Fractures cleanly when snapped
High gloss
Best used on heavier papers (≥100 gsm)
⚠️ Do not exceed 30–35% rosin or it may crack during cooling.
Formula 3: Paper-Safe Archival Wax (Low Penetration)
Optimized for good writing paper and envelopes.
Recipe (10 g batch)
Ingredient
Grams
Clear hot glue
5 g
Crayon wax
3 g
Rosin
1 g
Paraffin wax
1 g
Properties
Slightly less brittle
Very low soak-in
Strong paper adhesion
Safer for thin stationery
Optional Modifier: Chalk (Calcium Carbonate)
Add up to 1 g replacing glue or wax:
Effect
Increases snap
Reduces flexibility
Slightly matte unless well-melted
Use sparingly — too much weakens cohesion.
Melting & Mixing Procedure (Important)
Crush rosin finely (powder melts more evenly)
Melt in this order:
Paraffin wax
Crayon wax
Hot glue (low heat!)
Rosin last
Stir slowly to avoid bubbles
Pour into silicone mould or onto foil
Let cool undisturbed (do not quench)
Application Tips (Prevents Paper Damage)
Use a pre-warmed spoon, not direct flame on paper
Let wax cool 10–15 seconds before pressing seal
Chill metal seal briefly for sharper impressions
What This Will NOT Do (Honesty Clause)
It will not fully match shellac brittleness
It will not shatter like antique wax
It will slightly flex before breaking
However, it will:
Be hard and glossy
Break cleanly if stressed
Leave no greasy residue
Stack safely against paper and fabric
I personally have had much fun and I may even say success in creating bars of sealing wax that though admittedly not as brittle and shiny as genuine Bank of England style wax are very cheap and easy to create (box of 24 x 5g crayons CAD1.75; packet of 25 x 7mm EVA glue sticks, CAD2.00; 50g of colophony/pine resin CAD4.10) and can still be easily melted either with a BBQ lighter or in a spoon and stove intended explicitly for melting sealing wax over a tea light.
The next step of course is to create genuine traditional sealing wax and in order to take this step I am awaiting delivery of a shipment of shellac which is the traditional hard shiny natural wax derived from lac beetles which will allow me to create fully equivalent Bank of England style sealing wax. I do expect in the short term I will continue to create bars of Crayola crayon based colours to tint that shellac and rosin based sealing wax but ultimately I hope to move to powdered mineral colours which will mimic even more the original types of sealing wax as used by Jane Austen and indeed the Bank of England.
I look forward to hearing your own experiences with modern or traditional sealing waxes, and most particularly how you go about cleaning your tools after a session of playing with hot melted waxes in the kitchen. Also – how you avoid upsetting your spouse when they discover evidence of your latest hobby. (Asking for a friend…)
In my own case, tools include bamboo skewers intended for kebabs. I find these very helpful for stirring melted wax, though a wooden chopstick (as often provided with many takeaway meals) may be even better, being a little thicker and stiffer. The actual melting while mixing colours I do in a glass yoghurt pot. I find the glass relatively easy to scrape cold wax from after I finished playing. I do the melting over a low heat on an electric cooker with a glass top. The smooth surface avoids any risk of the pot tipping accidentally as might be the case on a gas stove which I would not recommend.
Repurposed glass yoghurt pot and bamboo skewer used for melting/mixing wax
The key here, no matter what method of heating you use, is to have patience and use a low heat (I use “simmer” on our Canadian cooker, but basically you’re aiming to heat the pot gently and slowly.) If your wax begins to bubble or even smoke your heat is far too high and you risk the fumes catching light. Again this is less likely on an electric stove but the risk is not zero. A fume hood or a well ventilated area is always a good idea – we’re dealing with hot petrochemicals and resins here. Finally I cast my bars of resulting wax tint using a silicone ice tray from IKEA, and let it cool naturally – not in the fridge. Unfortunately this mould is no longer available though similar moulds to create ice sticks intended for putting in water bottles are still generally available, as well as specific silicone moulds intended for candle making and other wax projects. Silicone is very heat resistant and is easy to eject the cooled wax rods from, as well as easy to clean with washing up liquid and boiling water afterwards – sometimes traces of the fillers used in crayons leave a slight residue on the silicone.
When it comes to using the wax for stamps, there are many excellent tutorial videos and blog postings available on the Internet. For my own case, I purchased a brass seal for use with my waxes and being the cheapskate many of you already know me to be, I bought only the seal and not the attendant wooden handle. I did this, foolishly thinking I could easily create one at home using an existing bolt and offcut of wood. Unfortunately, when the seal arrived I discovered the only bolt I had of the correct diameter and thread was a specialist fixture intended for securing the hinge of a toilet seat! For now at least therefore my fancy brass seal is ignominiously attached to part of a toilet seat until such times as I can replace the handle with a more elegant solution.
So I am quite sure I must have already mentioned “baby duck syndrome” elsewhere in these dubious pages. In my case, it’s Parker pens. An imprinting that took place with a Parker 45 way back in my grammar school days. Not so long a go, I acquired a small collection of vintage Parkers from a local collector, and have been remiss in not test driving all but one of them to date.
In the meantime I’ve had a busy few weeks with my various family members visiting for a week or more from Ontario, the UK and Austria. My wife was good enough to have bid and won an auction lot of vintage pens in the UK, and brought these for me to play with. Amongst such gems as a Conway Stewart and Mabie Todd was a little more recent Parker 15 in excellent condition and needing nothing more than a swift bath in the ultrasonic cleaner and the loan of a convertor from one of my many other Parkers.
The Parker 15 is one of those pens that often flies under the radar, and is a cute but functional offering. Produced in the UK from the late 1970s through into the 1980s, it was designed to be an easy, no-nonsense writer. Slim, light, and straightforward, the UK-made version usually came in brushed stainless steel or plastic finishes, and carried that familiar Parker arrow clip. It used a standard Parker cartridge/converter system, making it easy for me to find a compatible convertor to fuel it up today.
It’s interesting how the UK Parker 15 differs from its French cousin, the Mixy. The two are often mentioned together, but the UK 15 has a slightly more restrained, practical look, whereas the Mixy leaned toward brighter colors and a more playful style aimed at younger writers. It went as far as to have a flat clip with the Parker arrow merely etched onto it, rather than the arrow being the very clip itself like the UK-made 15. According to www.parkerpens.net, the Parker 15 sat just below the popular Parker 25 in the portfolio, filling the gap for people who wanted a solid everyday pen without stepping into more premium territory. The Matte Black GT model — with its matte epoxy resin coated stainless steel cap has 23k gold plated trim and nib, and stands out as one of the more stylish versions that will sit well with my other stealth black pens (though the trim elevates it a bit). The section is plastic and the injection moulding seams kind of detract from the otherwise solid build. The cap is stamped with PARKER/MADE IN UK/IP. The IP is a Parker dating stamp indicating it was made in Q3 1997… a positive babe in arms compared to some of its new kennel-mates!
While not as widely celebrated as the Parker 25 or 45, the 15 has its quiet charm, and tracking down a good example (especially the Matte Black GT) was a satisfying addition to my growing Parker collection.
Neat 23kt plated M nib with “PARKER” stamped on itBrass threads in steel barrel; injection moulding lines on plastic sectionPetite size next to cousin Vector and ISO standard Lamy AL
So, as I mentioned elsewhere, several vintage Parkers came into my possession the other day. Oldest amongst them was a Challenger De Luxe pen and pencil set, which the seller even kindly put in a random “age appropriate” Parker box for me, so that I could more safely carry them home.
The pen/pencil set I acquired are in “grey pearl” celluloid and being the De Luxe model, it is a more chunky pattern than the earlier standard Challenger model.
As well as the different plastic pattern, the De Luxe models also had 3 cap bands instead of the single broader band of the standard model. It seems the Challengers were made with the same plastics as the contemporary Vacumatics, and it was provided for Parker by DuPont. Additionally, the De Luxe had two-sided tipping on the nib, writing M in normal mode, and F when reversed. My example doesn’t seem to offer this feature, so it may have had a replacement nib at some point, after all!
Unlike the other colourways, the grey marble models have nickel rather than gold plated trim, though on my example, the pen’s bands are brassed to a more golden shade simply through use (the pen is almost 90 years old, after all!).
Both the cap and the blind cap have simple conical black finials. The clip is in good condition, showing virtually no brassing, and is still firmly springy. On close inspection I realised the marbling is formed by a spiral of material about 1” wide, that presumably formed the original blank, before being shaped into the cap and barrel. This is different to my Vacumatic which has a simple tip-to-toe seam in the plastic from which it was formed.
The washer-style clip fitted under the finial has a protective ball on the end to protect the user’s pocket, and proclaims “PARKER” vertically as an imprint, on a raised stylised stretched diamond, echoing the blue diamonds of the Vacumatic clips. The clip is 3cm long. This style marks the pen out as first generation, since the later 1937-1941 second generation models had a so called V-clip without the ball, similar to the Parker VS (which I may review later, since I just acquired one!)
On the opposite side of the cap to the clip is a single breather hole to aid with pressure equalisation and avoid ink being sucked from the feed as the cap is removed
The pen came to me fully restored, and I have to say the nib is a gorgeous gold No2 medium writer on a neat ebonite feed. The nib imprint is as follows:
PARKER PEN MADE IN U.S.A. .27.
The .27. is the early Parker dating system, and though nibs might get replaced (or added some time after the rest of the pen was manufactured), in my case the barrel also has a “27” imprint. According to the very informative ParkerPens.net resource created and maintained by Tony Fischier in Sweden, either “27” or “.7.” would denote a nib/pen manufactured in Q2 of 1937. It seems my example was a “belt and braces” case where they REALLY wanted to make sure its vintage was well established!
The section – indeed the whole pen – is quite small in my opinion, though very comfortable to hold and use. The barrel has the following imprint:
PARKER DELUXE CHALLENGER MADE IN U.S.A. 27. PARKER PEN CO. JANESVILLE. WIS
The imprint is quite faint due to wear, and it looks like “a Friday afternoon job” because it’s partially double-stamped with the PA of the initial line’s PARKER quite clearly being doubly stamped about 2mm offset.
The blind cap is a simple black affair, covering the button filling mechanism, which seems to be brass, and offering about 5mm of travel in order to compress the ink sac and draw ink into the reservoir.
Dimensions.
Capped 130mm
Uncapped (to end of section) 98mm
Uncapped (to end of nib) 118mm
Clip 32mm
Cap 15mm diameter
Section diameter 10-12mm
Barrel diameter 13mm
I decided to try it out with Pelikan Edelstein Olivine for its first outing – the green seemed a classic shade, and appropriate. A little flex, but not much, and generally a very pleasant M line, and I’m sure it’ll be in regular rotation from now on.
And now a little history of the model in general, gleaned from the web…
The Parker Challenger: A Depression-Era Classic
In the midst of the US Great Depression, the Parker Pen Company sought to create a product that could bridge affordability and quality. The result was the Parker Challenger, introduced in early 1934. Designed as a reliable and stylish pen at a modest price point, the Challenger line quickly found its place between the high-end Vacumatics and the economy Parkettes, making it a favorite among students, young professionals, and value-conscious buyers.
The original Parker Challenger was available in two sizes: Standard, intended for men, and Slender, designed for women. These pens featured a durable button-filling mechanism — a hallmark of Parker engineering — and were made from marbled plastics similar to those used in Vacumatics. They came in rich, mottled shades of black, burgundy, grey, and green, with a gold-filled cap band (chrome on the grey version), and a “washer-style” clip. The price was just US$2.50 ($58.66 in 2025 money), with a matching pencil available for $1.25. Sets were packaged in attractive cases at no additional cost, making them popular gift items.
In 1937, Parker introduced a transparent Visometer ink window to help users monitor ink levels — a practical innovation later adopted across their product range.
The Challenger De Luxe (1935–1941)
To target the mid-tier pen market, Parker introduced the Challenger De Luxe in 1935. Priced at $3.50 ($82.13 today) for the pen and $1.50 for the pencil, this model retained the core Challenger features but added a few more elegant design upgrades. It boasted three cap rings (chromed in grey models), a more substantial and pearlescent material, and an innovative two-way writing nib —medium on one side, fine on the other. The De Luxe was available in black, grey pearl, green pearl, and burgundy pearl on a black base.
Like the Standard model, the De Luxe came in both Standard and Slender sizes. By 1937, design updates streamlined the shape, introduced the V-clip, and replaced the three rings with a double-band cap, aligning the line’s aesthetics with the evolving Vacumatic series.
The Royal Challenger (1936–1941)
Topping the line was the Royal Challenger, introduced in 1936. This model featured a bold herringbone (chevron) pattern created in collaboration with famed industrial designer Paul M. Ressinger. It was available in brown, grey, and burgundy, all offered in both Standard (approx. 131mm) and Slender (approx. 122mm) sizes.
Royal Challengers stood out with their sword clip (later replaced by a V-clip) and triple cap rings, later reduced to a wide single band. The pens had gold-filled trim, jewel-capped clips, and the same trusted button-filling mechanism. Retailing at $5.00 (US$117.32 in 2025), the Royal Challenger was a premium offering in the Challenger family.
Design Evolution and Discontinuation
By 1937, the entire Challenger line underwent stylistic refinement. Clips were updated to the sleeker V-clip design (later seen on the Parker VS), and the Visometer ink-view window became a standard feature. Despite these improvements, the Challenger line was gradually phased out by 1941 with the advent of the Parker “51” and an expanding range of streamlined Duofolds and Vacumatics.
Interestingly, some Challenger models continued to be sold in Canada under the name Moderne, possibly to clear out remaining parts stock.
Conclusion: A Forgotten Hero of Parker’s History
Though overshadowed by the prestigious Parker “51” and the iconic Vacumatics, the Parker Challenger line deserves recognition as one of the most thoughtfully designed and accessible writing instruments of its era. The Challenger offers a fascinating glimpse into Parker’s innovation during hard times.
Quieter Elephant 
