Even though I have no need for a pastel, scented, slightly almost pearlescent gel pen, cheap novelty is nearly impossible to resist, particularly when pens are involved. And thus, after much flavor deliberation, I threw the vanilla Pticolon into my latest JetPens order.
The body of the Pticolon is simple, yet pleasing. The rounded square cap keeps the pen from rolling away, rather than using a clip; this streamlines the look of the pen without taking away from the functionality. Clips are great, but gel pens like these belong in bunches together inside of three-ring zippered pouches.
The cap fits snugly on the end, no problems there. However, if rattling noises irritate you, then be warned that there is a small metal ball in the end of the pen. I always liked for my gratuitous not-very-schoolwork-functional gel pens to have this feature, because I liked the small noise it would occasionally make. I don’t know what function the little metal ball serves, but now you know it’s there.
The Pticolon has a little grip section whose sole purpose is to tempt me into making tasteless and inappropriate jokes (it doesn’t seem to add or take away anything from the writing experience). But it writes well, with a consistent ink flow that dispenses neither too much nor too little ink, with an appropriate level of smoothness that still allows for a sort of tactile feel to the pen hitting the page. My only complaint against this pen is that, though the cap may indeed be brown, I cannot under any stretch of the imagination nor of the color spectrum construe this as being brown ink. It’s a peach pink kind of color. Under the most generous of circumstances, I’ll say that maybe it’s almost a variant of tan (pink tan). But not brown; that cap color is a lie. Other than that, it’s a solid and simple pen, and if I could I’d shove a few of these in a time machine and send them back to my middle school self.