What Is Junk Journaling?
My love for pets in a spread
(And No, It's Not Just Gluing Trash Into a Notebook)
Someone asked me this at a party recently, and I watched their face do a little journey while I explained it. Confusion. Then polite concern. Then — about forty seconds in — genuine interest.
So let's do this properly.
The short answer
Junk journaling is making a book out of bits.
Paper bits, mostly. Things you cut, tear, layer, and glue onto a page until it looks and feels like yours. Sometimes there's writing. Sometimes there isn't. Sometimes it's a beautiful composed spread and sometimes it's a bus ticket taped in at a slight angle because you liked the day.
That's it. That's the hobby.
The word "junk" throws people, and I get why. It sounds like I'm gluing banana peels into a notebook. I'm not. (Usually.)
Where the "junk" part comes from
Traditionally, junk journaling meant creating with things that would otherwise end up in the bin.
Receipts. Packaging. Tickets. Envelopes. Old book pages. The tissue paper from a shoebox. The tag off a bunch of flowers. Bits of your life that were already on their way out, given a second act on a page instead.
There's something genuinely lovely about that. You start seeing potential everywhere. A friend hands you a receipt and you go ooh, nice typography like an absolute lunatic. Your paper habit becomes free and slightly unhinged.
And honestly, this is still the heart of it for a lot of people — the reuse, the resourcefulness, the fact that you don't need to buy anything to start.
But I'm not a junk journaling purist
Here's where I'll lose a few people, and that's fine.
I don't think it has to be actual junk.
If it makes you want to create, it belongs in your journal. That's my whole rule.
Stickers? Absolutely.
Magazine cutouts? Yes.
Scrapbook paper? Go for it.
Something you bought specifically because it was pretty? Also fine. You're allowed to enjoy things.
There is a version of this hobby where people get precious about it, where using something new and shop-bought feels like cheating. I understand the instinct. But I've never seen anyone's creativity improve because someone told them their supplies weren't authentic enough.
The bin-destined stuff and the deliberately-lovely stuff can live on the same page. Mine do constantly.
So what actually counts as "junk"?
Genuinely, whatever's near you. But if you want a starting list:
Free stuff you already have Envelopes (especially the patterned insides), receipts, tickets, old greeting cards, packaging, tea tags, book pages, sheet music, magazine pages, brown paper bags, maps, catalogues, that stack of takeaway menus.
Stuff you might buy Scrapbook paper, sticker sheets, washi tape, decorative papers, printed ephemera packs, and — yes, I'm biased — a newspaper designed specifically to be cut up.
Stuff from outside Pressed flowers, leaves, the paper sleeve from a coffee cup you drank somewhere memorable.
You'll build a pile fast. Everyone does. The pile is part of it.
Three kinds of junk journaler (all valid)
This is the bit I really want you to hear, because it's where most people get stuck before they've started.
Some people document their lives. Where they went, what they ate, who they were with. The journal is a record.
Some people write about their feelings. The paper is a backdrop for the words. The collage is the mood, the writing is the point.
And some people just want to make a page that's pretty to look at. No memories, no processing, no deeper meaning. Just colour and texture and the small satisfaction of a layout that works.
All of those count.
I personally do all three, often in the same journal, sometimes on facing pages. Monday is a receipt from a good lunch. Tuesday is a paragraph about something that's been bothering me. Wednesday is just orange paper because I felt like orange.
There is no junk journaling police
Nobody is coming to fine you for using a sticker.
I want to be clear about this because the internet is very good at making a low-stakes creative hobby feel like something you can fail at. You'll see immaculate spreads and think yours look wrong. You'll wonder if you're using the right glue. You'll save forty tutorials and start none of them.
None of that is the hobby. The hobby is scissors, paper, and half an hour.
Make the pages you actually enjoy making. If you enjoy the process, you're doing it correctly. That's the entire assessment criteria.
How to start today (properly, in about ten minutes)
Find a notebook. Any notebook. An old paperback you don't love. A stack of paper folded in half. It does not need to be nice, arguably it's better if it isn't, because then you won't be scared of it.
Gather ten things. Go around your house and grab ten bits of paper. Don't curate. Ten minutes, maximum.
Pick two. Glue them down. Overlap them slightly. That's a layer and layering is basically the whole technique.
Add one more thing. A bit of tape, a scrap of color, a word cut out of something.
Stop. Seriously. Close the book. You made a page.
The first one always feels a bit awkward. The fifth one won't.
