About

We make envelopes. That's the whole business.

I'm Tommy Hunter, and Linden Paper Co. runs out of my house in Boise, Idaho.

It started with a graduation card. I'd written something I actually meant, put a few hundred dollars behind it, and then dug through a kitchen drawer for something to put it in. What I found was a bank envelope with a logo in the corner and a crease down the middle.

It bothered me more than it should have. I'd spent an hour on the words and then handed them over in something that looked like a receipt.

So I went looking for better envelopes. What I found was either cheap and thin, or beautiful and sold in boxes of 500 to wedding planners. Nothing in between. Nothing for the person who just wanted twenty-five good envelopes to have on hand.

So I made them.

Warm kraft paper, substantial enough that a name written on the front looks like it was meant to be there. Two sizes, because there are really only two things most of us are putting in envelopes: cash, or a card with something written inside it.

That's it. That's the whole catalog, and I'd rather make two things properly than thirty things adequately.

How it actually works

I make the batches. I pack the orders. I write the labels. When you email us, you're emailing me — usually the same day. There's no warehouse and no customer service department. There's a work table, a stack of kraft paper, and a real person who cares whether your envelope arrives in good shape.

Why it matters to me

Somewhere there's a shoebox with envelopes in it. A name in someone's handwriting. A birthday from years ago. Nobody planned to keep them — they just did, because the person who wrote them is gone now, or grown up, or far away.

Nobody keeps a bank envelope.

That's the whole reason this exists.

Thank you for being here.

— Tommy Hunter, Boise, Idaho