I passed this huge pencil every day on my way to school, back in my salad days in Geneva in the '60s. The pencil was the emblem of the famous Caran D'Ache pencil factory, now a purveyor of fine writing instruments of high prestige and established elsewhere in the city, in sleeker surroundings. Back then, it was all about pencils, which we schoolkids actually used in great numbers; the entire neighborhood of this factory was, as I recall (my olfactory glands leading the rearward charge), heavily scented with wood and pencil-lead.
I once owned 54 Caran D'ache pencils of varying colors and length, all kept honed to a needle-sharp point, ready for action. Then my covetous eye fell upon Parker pens and Omega watches. Such were my material desires, in those days.
