We specify the hook, the grid paper and the figure size. Then the picture.

Why we exist

Calendars are sold on the cover photograph and judged on whether they are still hanging in November.

The gap between those two is entirely mechanical, and it is the part of the job nobody quotes.

It hangs from one point

A bare punched hole is a stress concentration with a year of gravity on it, and it tears — usually straight through the logo.

A twin-loop coil spreads the load across the spine and carries a formed hook that is part of the binding, not a clip waiting to pop off.

Half the page is a writing surface

The top wants a finish that flatters an image; the bottom wants a surface that takes a biro. Those are opposite papers.

So the grid half is specified uncoated or matte-coated for pen and pencil, and we prove it by writing on the proof. Nobody else in this category tests the grid with a pen.

It is read from three metres

Date-figure size, weekday contrast and rule weight are functional decisions that depend on how far away people stand.

Which is why we ask where it hangs before we set the grid — and why a full-bleed photo over a postage-stamp grid gets called what it is: a poster with dates on it.

The wall is the deadline

By mid-December every wall worth having is occupied. A calendar that lands in January is a recycled calendar.

Artwork through late summer, print in early autumn, in the post through October. We will tell you when your real deadline was even when you would rather we did not.

One template, forty branches

A shared grid and design with per-branch headers, contact details and local dates turns forty artwork jobs into a data job.

The template stays on file, so next year is a date change rather than a rebuild.

What we do not make

Desk, tent, magnetic, pocket and fine-art calendars. Posters.

Each is a real craft with real specialists, and staying out of them is why the hanger and the grid on ours get specified properly.

What we will talk you out of

A heavy laminated cover on a stapled fold. A gloss grid nobody can write in. Date squares that fit three characters. A workshop calendar with office-sized figures. And a December delivery.

Each refusal costs an order occasionally and costs trust never.

How we work

Who we serve