He got a weird sort of messianic gleam in his eye, and the next thing I knew, I was flattened, punched (three-holed, that is) and incarcerated within this lovely, sturdy binder. It's a little tight, understandable as there are 6 of us in here, one behind each of the 6 tabbed dividers. It's a bit stuffy, needless to say, but luckily my immediate neighbor alphabetically is wearing Thierry Mugler's Angel.

and

I bought this binder for my son, because wow, does he have trouble keeping track of his women.