This looseleaf notebook was a recent eBay purchase. I bought it because it was a pocket size looseleaf from the 1950s, described as being 3×5″, and the brand name was unfamiliar. That was interesting enough to me, and the notebook wasn’t expensive, so I thought it would be nice to have it in my collection of very similar looseleaf notebooks from different brands/eras. But when I received the notebook in the mail, it was a surprise to see that it was actually quite different from any of my other refillable notebooks.

This is the smallest 6-ring pocket binder I’ve ever seen. (There are similarly sized Japanese binders like Plotter‘s Mini 5 size, but they only have 5 rings.) I thought my DaVinci binder was pretty small, but this is smaller. Though the ring spacing is standard, it’s the binder that is 3×5″ (actually more like 3 1/16 x 4 13/16″) not the paper, which is only 2 1/2 x 4 1/2″. I haven’t been able to find any listings for paper this size being sold today.

It was made by Wilson-Jones, as you can see from the brand mark inside the cover, which shows the model #310-02. Inside, there are textured black end pages, then a 1958-1959 calendar page, and blue lined paper.

Wilson-Jones made various kinds of binders and office supplies. I found a listing for a similar, larger binder on Etsy.

It looks like Wilson Jones still exists as a brand name, as part of the Acco conglomerate (which also owns Mead, Esselte, At-a-Glance, Derwent, Daytimer, Hilroy, Five-Star, Swingline and other office and craft supply brands). According to the company history on Acco’s website, Wilson-Jones was founded in 1893 and was the inventor of the three-ring binder. (This is disputed by a history of the company at the Made in Chicago Museum.)

A few pages of my notebook turned out to have been written on in pencil. The writing is a bit hard to read, but from what I can make out, the original owner of this notebook must have been a farmer, as there are references to a “John deer” seeder, grass seed, a pasture, oats, and a pig barn. Some of the notes are dated in the 1960s. Maybe there used to be more notes that were torn out before the notebook was sold, or else the farmer wasn’t very consistent about writing things down. The notebook does show signs of wear and tear from being used, but doesn’t seem as grubby and beaten up as you’d expect it to be if it had been in a farmer’s pocket all the time.

I’m glad I stumbled across this little notebook. I love vintage notebooks as an excuse to explore the history of the many independent office supply companies that are now long gone, and I’m always happy to have an unusual one in my collection.