The Card Shop at the End of Civility

One might call it a greeting card intervention. The kind where relatives gather around, clutching tissues, saying "Your Hallmark addiction has gone too far." But these aren't your grandmother's greeting cards – unless grandmother enjoyed dropping casual F-bombs between sips of Earl Grey.
After countless hours in the plant shop, surrounded by succulents that refused to die with dignity, the idea emerged. Custom greeting cards that wholesale for $1.65 – the perfect price point for unique greeting cards that tell someone exactly what normal society prevents you from saying aloud.
Each foil-stamped card arrives in its own sealed poly bag, like a tiny, profane treasure. Gold or silver embossing lends an air of sophistication to phrases that would make a sailor reach for smelling salts. Nothing says "thoughtful correspondence" quite like opening an envelope to find only the word "FUCK" staring back in elegant metallic lettering.
The edgy card collection now features ninety-six different ways to emotionally confuse recipients. "Here's a plant. Thought you could use some excitement" – perfect for the friend whose life peaked during the Bush administration. The first Bush.
"You're now at the age where coke is something you drink" – a birthday reminder that youth has packed its bags and left no forwarding address.
And the bestselling humorous greeting card: "Remember this moment and ask yourself WTF were you thinking" – suitable for weddings, baptisms, and most political campaigns.
It's what Emily Post would have wanted, had she lived long enough to lose all hope in humanity.
Read more
Filters
Out of stock
Price
$
$
Sort by

Why let your flowers die when they can live forever?

These low-maintenance beauties can hang as wall art or add a pop of color to your tablescape, without ever needing water or sunlight. Perfect for those who want to show they care, but not enough to remember to water real flowers. They also make a perfect gift for someone who appreciates beauty without the commitment—because who has time to keep flowers alive, anyway?