I Spent 32 Cents Each on Business Cards I Hate. I Could Have Had Matches.

Custom matchbooks are having a moment and I missed it. Now I'm carrying 500 cards that are a cry for help.

Get custom matches from 5 cents to $2 each

Recently I ran out of Retail Therapy business cards and needed more. The first batch was a rush job at FedEx. It required going to pick them up in-person, and there are few places I dislike more than there. I’d rather go to the US Post Office than FedEx, where they’re always trying to get you to do their job. I’ve seen people working there who’d rather vacuum than help you.

I decided to be a good person and get them printed locally. It cost me more money and took longer than if I ordered them online and had them delivered. They look amateur, like I printed them at home. The font is so little you need a magnifying glass to see what it says. I say that as someone who doesn’t require glasses to see up close. The paper is cheap and I didn’t get the rounded corners I wanted. It’s a 32-cent regret 500 times over. All for a card that no one can read.

I wish I’d been more clever and gone with custom matchbooks. I definitely would have been on trend, which isn’t something I can typically claim. It may feel like we’re suddenly hearing about the resurgence of matchbooks, thanks to a Bloomberg report attributing it to the 29 and under Gen Z crowd. Not because they’re smoking. If anything, they’re vaping or using nicotine pouches, like ZYN. None of which requires being ignited. The rising popularity has been a slow burn.

Think about it: of course matches are appealing. If it’s a box, they’re noisy and you can shake it. Tactile, you had to touch them and turn it around to get a better look. And then there is the scent: the distinctness of sulfur.

Recently I was at a great seafood restaurant in Vancouver and I couldn’t help but pick up the box of matches on the way out and slip them into my bag. But why? I then had to wonder “can you take these on a plane?” I’m only traveling carry-on. Leaving a Buck Mason empty handed — because of course whatever items I was there to try on were sold out in all sizes. But the matches were for the taking.

Joe Dan­non has been in the custom match business for 36 years. In 2004, he went on his own and started the Match Group. Over the past three years, sales there have grown 75% every year, year-over-year.

The allure is that it’s old school. Not digital. It’s a memento and something to show on the Socials. Because how else will the world know you were there?

Maple & Ash steakhouses hand out 30,000 gold-embossed matchbooks each year across their loc­a­tions. For as little as a nickel or costing up to $2 a box — depending on complexity and quantity — it’s a nice touch to have sitting next to a candle at home. It’s like a polaroid or a ticket stub. A keepsake from a night out.

Matches actually had a practical start, back in the day. Before the mass production of disposable lighters. You might get a box with the bill at a restaurant or find them in an ashtray at the bar.

As a kid, they were taboo. You were told you could look but not touch. So when you’d come across a collection of them, all you wanted to do was play with them. My grandfather used it to light his pipe. My parents would use the sturdy stick to light the bbq, quickly flicking the match away, highlighting its danger. A practice only to be performed by an adult.

A mother and daughter duo started Oh, What a Match to highlight the appeal of col­lect­ing. They’ve turned the hobby into a business that also hosts social events for the serious.

Various city guides highlight the restaurants offering the best matchbooks. Here’s Charlotte and Indianapolis. In New Orleans, “counter service joint” Turkey and the Wolf even sells their fun matches online for $5.

It’s not just restaurants. If your house is swanky, or you want it to be, you can do custom matches for your house, too. It’s a hosting touch for everyone who visits. Assuming they don’t spill red wine on the white sofa.

The deeper I go, the more I’m kicking myself. The options are endless and affordable. I could have spent slightly more — 50 cents each vs. 32 cents for the cards — for something far superior. A price I would have happily paid to be proud of what I’m sharing. Instead, my business cards depress me. I’m embarrassed to hand them out.

Matches are a marketing tool and gimmick, all in one. I’d leave a blank spot inside each matchbook where someone could write a note. And I’ll sprinkle them about at the coffee shop, gym and women’s lounge of stores I like.

Sure it will be odd to carry lots of matches in my purse, especially when my bag dumps out somewhere. Or when I get pulled over for running a red light. I’ll never be able to find them, lodged in the bottom of my bag. Probably with the Merit Lip Blush missing since March.

Please tell me you have a worse business card story? Drop it in the comments, which are open to everyone. I need to know I'm not alone.

When life stops making sense, we shop. More soon.

Rani Monson

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