The problem with most junk journal inspiration is that it shows you a finished page and not the decisions behind it. You end up copying a layout you cannot repeat, and then staring at a blank spread the next week.
Below are twenty-five pages grouped by what they are actually for, plus the four-layer formula that almost every good spread follows. Learn the formula and you can invent your own.
The four-layer formula
Nearly every page that looks considered has these four things, in this order. Nearly every page that looks muddy has more than four.
| Layer | What it is | Rule |
|---|---|---|
| 1. Ground | A background — patterned paper, a wash, a book page | One sheet. Torn, not cut, so edges hide alignment errors. |
| 2. Anchor | The biggest element — a photo, a pocket, a large tag | One. Placed off-center, roughly a third in. |
| 3. Text | Handwriting, a typed strip, a quote | Somewhere quiet. Over vellum if the ground is busy. |
| 4. Accents | Die cuts, washi, stitching, a stamp | Two or three. Not eight. This is where pages go wrong. |
If a page is not working, count the accents. It is almost always the accents.
Pages that hold something
1. The pocket page. A folded pocket glued on three sides, holding tags or slips. The single most-used page type there is.
2. The envelope page. A real used envelope glued down, flap intact, holding whatever came in it.
3. The ticket spread. Vellum strips glued at the ends only, so stubs and receipts slide underneath.
4. The waterfall. Four small cards hinged one behind the other, each lifting to show the one beneath.
5. The tuck spot. A single strip of paper glued along the bottom edge of a page. Ten seconds to make, endlessly useful.
6. The pull-out tag. A tag on a ribbon in a pocket, with the writing hidden until you pull it.
Pages that record a day
7. The one-day spread. Everything from a single day: the coffee sleeve, the receipt, the parking stub, four lines of writing.
8. The walk page. A pressed leaf or flower, the date, and where.
9. The meal page. What you cooked, who ate it, and the label off the jar.
10. The weather page. A month of tiny colored squares, one per day. Simple, meditative, and better looking than it sounds.
11. The overheard page. Things people actually said this week, written as a list, undated.
Pages that use up what you have
12. The scrap page. A whole spread built only from pieces too small to keep. Genuinely satisfying and it clears the box.
13. The book page wash. A page from a damaged paperback, covered in a thin wash of watered-down paint, written over in pen.
14. The tea-stain page. Plain paper aged with cold tea, dried flat under a book overnight, then used as a ground.
15. The packaging page. The interesting part of a cereal box, a tea packet, a bakery bag.
16. The one-color spread. Every element in a single color family. Excellent for using up the odd pieces nobody wants.
Pages that are mostly writing
17. The list page. One list, handwritten large. What you want, what you are avoiding, what you are grateful for, books you have read.
18. The letter page. A letter to someone you will not send it to.
19. The quote page. One line, copied out, with the source. The rest of the page nearly empty.
20. The interview page. Ask a child in your house five questions and write down exactly what they say. In ten years this is the best page in the book.
Pages that are practice
21. The color test page. Every pen and paint you own, swatched. You will use this constantly.
22. The ugly page. Deliberately made badly, early in the book, so the book is no longer perfect and you can relax.
23. The copy page. Reproduce someone else’s layout exactly, as an exercise. Note it as a copy.
24. The technique page. One new fold or stitch, tried three times on the same spread.
25. The index. The back page, listing what is where. Nobody makes one and everybody wishes they had.
How to finish a page in twenty minutes
- Set a timer. Twenty minutes. The timer is what stops you adding a ninth accent.
- Choose the anchor first. Pick the one thing the page is about before you touch the background.
- Ground, anchor, text, accents. In that order. Do not go back to an earlier layer.
- Date the bottom corner. Every page. This is the part you will care about most later.
- Stop at the timer. A finished page you would change is better than an unfinished page you love.
The four mistakes
Too many accents. Three, not eight. Space is a design element and it is free.
Too much glue. Pages buckle, the book stops closing, and the buckling never comes out. Less liquid glue, and press the book under weight overnight after a wet page.
Saving the good stuff. The nice paper you are keeping for the right page will still be in the drawer in three years. Use it this week.
Starting on page one. Start in the middle. The first page carries too much expectation, and you can come back to it when the book is broken in.
What you need
A book with thick pages, a glue stick and a liquid glue, and a box of collected paper. Everything else is optional.
The three things that most change how pages look, in order: vellum, because one translucent sheet over a busy ground instantly quiets it and makes handwriting readable; pockets, because a page that holds something gets revisited; and washi, because it hides every glue line and edge you are unhappy with.
Our junk journal starter kit is a notebook, vellum pockets, die cuts and washi in one box, which is the sensible way to start. After that, junk journal supplies, die cuts and washi tape fill the gaps.
Start with the scrap page
Open the book in the middle, set a timer for twenty minutes, and make a page using only pieces too small to be worth keeping.
It costs nothing, it uses up the box, and it is the fastest way to learn the four layers — because with scraps there is no good paper to be precious about.
If the format is new, what a junk journal actually is covers the basics, and once the paper starts accumulating, paper and washi storage is the next problem you will have.