For anyone who has ever wandered down Turl Street, it would be impossible to miss the elaborate window displays of Scriptum, the fine stationary shop which has become a staple of Oxford since its creation in 2003. Whether it be the miniature hot-air balloons which hang from the shop’s ceiling, the Hungarian marionettes which adorn the upper floor, or the cast iron paperweights shaped as toucans and tortoises, anyone who enters the store will be sure to find something which sparks their curiosity. Yet despite its universal appeal, Scriptum is a shop reflective of the interests and passions of one particular individual: Azeem Zakria. I spoke to Scriptum’s owner and creative director about the origins of the store, the vision and values which define his business approach, and the reasons why Scriptum is so much more than just a stationary shop.
The creation of Scriptum was by no means something which Azeem ever anticipated. His first career was as an air steward, a line of work which appealed to his love of travel, but which ultimately could not fulfil him in any long-term capacity. “I really wanted to move on to do something a bit more serious, you could say”. As the youngest of six children, all of whom were already employed as engineers or architects, he felt mounting pressure to find his purpose in life.
It was during a trip to Florence that Azeem came to the realise that running a stationary business was what he wanted to do. “Florence had these amazing stationary shops, with really beautiful products which I had never seen before.” With £45,000 of savings, Azeem made the decision to take a risk: he moved to Oxford and opened Scriptum. Despite not knowing “a single person” in the city and having no experience of running a business, he tells me that “within days the magic would start”. Twenty-two years have since passed and Scriptum has grown and flourished, becoming a much-beloved fixture of Oxford for citizens, tourists and students alike.
The commerce of Florence might have been the short-term catalyst for opening Scriptum, but Azeem’s choice to sell fine stationary was not entirely unprecedented. He developed a love for stationary at a young age, recalling his purchase of his first “leather bound journal” from Selfridges at the age of 15. “I remember I paid £70 for it. And this must have been in the early 90s, so that was a lot of money back then. But more importantly, it was a lot of money for me. I came from a very large family who lived in a small house. We didn’t have a huge amount of money.” It is therefore no surprise that the journals sold by Scriptum are one of Azeem’s most treasured products. “They are really special to me […] they have this longevity; they’re going to be here after we’ve all gone perhaps”.
It is also a matter of great sentimentality and importance to Azeem that Scriptum’s journals are designed by the people who work in the shop. “When I have young people joining the team, I always encourage them to design a product, find their skill […] Within a few months, they’re seeing something that they’ve converted from their artwork into a product, which they’re actually then seeing being sold as well”.
Azeem’s efforts to allow his employees as much creative freedom as possible is part of his belief that “delegation” is the key to running a successful business. “I don’t think of Scriptum as my baby, because I think that’s really unhealthy to hold on to something. I prefer to see myself more as a custodian of this business. You have to have trust in people: [..,] that way, I think you get to keep them longer. All the staff at Scriptum are really overqualified […] That’s something I personally find quite humbling”.
In order to allow his employees to take on as much responsibility as possible, Azeem spends most days at the shop “in the basement, unpacking deliveries”. Yet he is always looking for new ways to connect with his customers. Over lockdown he hosted a men’s letter writing club, with the aim of reducing isolation during such a difficult time. However, it is through his appreciation for opera and that he has been able to have such frequent and meaningful encounters with his clientèle. “I love opera myself. And I think that opening a shop is very easy. You have a space, you put things in it, and then you wait for your customers to come and buy them. But a stationary shop requires a bit more than that. It requires a bit of soul”. No matter the hour of the day, you will be sure to hear some of the greatest arias playing in Scriptum. “I’ve found customers in the shop crying because the music evokes a memory. And I’ve often spoken to people who will say things like ‘this aria reminds me of my father’, or something of that sort”.
Although Scriptum works with the best atelier workshops and suppliers across the United Kingdom and Europe, Azeem remains firmly opposed to the term “luxury” when it comes to describing the products he sells, assuring me “it’s about quality more than luxury”. His reluctance to this term stems from the way it could “exclude” certain people, namely Oxford’s student population. He realised during lockdown that “we needed to do a bit more for the young population in Oxford” and came up with the idea of selling paper by the sheet. “As a student, you might have to write one important letter every now and then […] Instead of having to buy an entire box of writing paper, which might be costly, you can just purchase one”.
Azeem strongly disagrees with the current view that letter writing is a dying art. In fact, he identifies “a resurgence” in this practice and rejects the idea that that writing things by hand and utilising technology are mutually exclusive. “When the typewriter came out, people were concerned that letter writing would stop. It doesn’t, it increases”.
He hopes that Scriptum can play a role in encouraging students to start recording their time here in a material way, whether that be via letter-writing or journalling. “I certainly think as a student in Oxford, it’s nice to have something tangible years later. When I was your age, I wasn’t told about these things. It’s only years later I’ve realised the importance of it”. He admits that “it’s really not my job to tell the students that ‘this is such a magical time in your life, you need to write something down’” but remains steadfast in his opinion that you would be “missing out” to only retain ‘paperless’ memories from your Oxford days.
You can visit Scriptum at 3 Turl Street.
