We, the designers of Pressed, Ink, adore SoHo lofts and the tiny stores below them. We’re crazy about hip, eyeglass sporting, black T-shirt wearing and jeans wearing women, and men who enjoy a hearty bowl of green curry soup and a good storm. We cheer when people understand our literary allusions. Those who have musical taste that ranges from Debussy to Amos Lee, Jeff Tweedy to Waylon Jennings, Billie Holiday to Johnny Cash absolutely bring the dance of joy to our feet. People brave enough to swear loyalty to urban living but confess they hanker for time spent in the Hamptons or New Canaan, Connecticut also get our vote.
We’re a jovial lot. Not scary. We like you the second you walk into our studio. We also adore ink that’s been pressed onto thirsty paper whether by letterpress, Heidelberg, or pen.
People have been showing up to our party since 2001; that’s when we started. But if you haven’t joined us yet, we invite you to Tivo your favorite show, kick back with some Ray Charles, and press some ink onto our good deeds.
You get the picture because you’re part of it.