Fenway by AnalogPaper
{Blog}
Themes, layouts and inspirations
Let’s just say this out loud.
You do not need to buy anything to start junk journaling.
Not a kit.
Not a bundle.
Not a $200 “starter haul.”
Not even those beautiful coordinated printable packs (tempting, I know).
If you’ve been pinning junk journals, watching flip-through videos, admiring all those layered, tea-stained, lace-trimmed pages and thinking, “I’d love to do that but I don’t have the supplies…”
You probably do.
In fact, if you’ve ever kept a pretty envelope “just in case,” tucked a birthday card into a drawer, or saved ribbon from a gift — you are already a junk journaler at heart.
So let’s talk about how to start junk journaling using what’s already in your house.
Junk journaling isn’t scrapbooking.
It isn’t art journaling.
It isn’t about perfection.
It’s about layering paper.
Saving memories.
Using scraps.
Creating something beautiful from everyday bits.
The word junk isn’t an insult — it’s the magic.
Old paper.
Leftover packaging.
Forgotten notes.
Book pages.
Receipts.
Paper bags.
All fair game.
And honestly? The less polished it is, the better it looks.
Before your brain starts whispering “I need chipboard,” pause.
Walk into your kitchen.
Open the recycling.
You can make a junk journal cover from:
Cut it to size. Fold it in half.
There. That’s your cover.
If you want it thicker, glue two pieces together. Done.
No special tools.
No special trip.
No drama.
This is my favourite part.
Walk around your home and look at paper differently.
Instead of asking, “Is this rubbish?” ask, “Could this live in a junk journal?”
Look for:
You will be surprised how quickly a little pile forms.
And don’t worry about matching colours yet. Junk journals thrive on variety.
Take your collected paper and fold each sheet in half.
Stack four to six folded sheets together.
That little bundle is called a signature — but don’t let the word scare you. It’s just folded paper nested together.
You can start with one signature for a small journal. Or make two if you’re feeling enthusiastic.
Slightly uneven edges? Perfect.
Different paper textures? Even better.
Before you decide you need a bookbinding kit — you don’t.
Check your sewing drawer.
You can use:
Punch three little holes along the fold with a thick needle or push pin.
Stitch through. Tie it off.
Congratulations. You just bound your first junk journal.
If stitching feels intimidating, use binder rings or tie ribbon through punched holes.
There is no junk journal police.
This is where people think they need printable ephemera.
You don’t.
Use:
Glue them down.
Layer them.
Tuck them into pockets.
The beauty of junk journaling is that nothing has to match perfectly.
Pockets are easy.
You can:
Slip in little notes, quotes, or memories.
That hidden element? That’s what makes junk journals so charming.
If your pages feel too crisp and modern, grab a mug.
Strong black tea brushed lightly across paper instantly softens it.
Cooled coffee gives deeper, richer tones.
Even lightly crumpling paper and smoothing it out adds character.
You don’t need distress inks to create a vintage feel.
Your kitchen is enough.
Let’s clear the mental clutter.
You do not need:
Junk journaling was born from using leftovers.
Start there.
When you use real-life paper — not curated packs — your journal feels different.
An old grocery list.
A recipe in someone’s handwriting.
A card from years ago.
That’s texture.
That’s story.
That’s depth.
You’re not just decorating pages.
You’re preserving pieces of life.
You don’t need better supplies.
You need to start.
Fold paper.
Stitch it.
Glue something down.
Your first journal won’t look like the ones online.
That’s fine.
Your second will be different.
Your third will feel more confident.
Junk journaling grows with you.
If you’ve been waiting until you have “the right supplies,” consider this your nudge.
Open a drawer.
Pull out paper.
Begin.
And once you do?
You’ll never look at an envelope the same way again.