7 min read

The Conid Maximalistica is supersized, but still stripped back

The Conid Maximalistica is supersized, but still stripped back

Conid is back… worth the wait?

I bought my first Conid way back in 2018, and since then I’ve owned a couple of Kingsize, a Regular, and a Minimalistica (the orange Monarch edition for Fontoplumo). I have written plenty about this tiny Belgian brand over the years. But now I have something new to say.

That’s because they have a brand new pen model out: the Maximalistica.

For Conid experts, it might be immediately obvious what this is: a Minimalistica with a #8 nib. But if you’re new to Conid, that won’t help you.

What on earth is the Maximalistica?

The Mini- and Maximalistica is a unique design (as far as I know), where the barrel is a single piece of acrylic, stepless and gently tapering down to the nib. The cap doesn’t screw on with threads, or use magnets, or a clutch ring like the Lamy 2000, or a bayonet like the Homo Sapiens. Instead, o-rings inside the cap grip against the barrel as you push the cap on. The result is ultimately minimalist, hence the name.

I complained a lot about this design on the Minimalistica. I hated the lack of precision (how far do I need to push the cap on?) and the effort needed to twist and tug the cap off again.

But I wanted to give it another try, not because I’m a glutton for punishment, but because:

  • I expected the thicker barrel of this pen to provide a more stable grip for the o-ring.
  • Conid generally improves engineering over time, and in fact back in 2019 the Conid crew reached out to me about my experiences with the Minimalistica, extremely open to feedback.
  • There are a lot of advantages to this design, and I’m willing to compromise!

Anyway, I received my Maximalistica a few days ago. What about my no-buy 2026? Well, I was all ready to buy this pen back in October when the release was first planned — but it got delayed. So I consider this a 2025 purchase!

How does a £1,200 pen stack up against the competition?

The price including import duties was about £1,200, with a gold nib (barely a premium over the titanium nib). This is a lot of money for a pen, especially now there are compelling alternatives out there like the Gravitas Monster and the Kyuseido Kakari, coming in at half the price.

There is still a special something about Conid though, and it’s not just the FOMO factor from its extremely limited availability (this run of the Maximalistica is a numbered edition of 159, and it’s been months since any other Conids have been available at retail).

It starts with the unboxing. Conid has always used metal ammo-style boxes for their cases, with precision-cut interiors holding all the paperwork.

It’s all about the build

Then there’s the materials and engineering. The body is acrylic, beautifully clear to show off the famous Bulkfiller mechanism, which operates flawlessly. Screwing down the piston knob (for want of a better name) completely seals off the huge main ink chamber from the forward chamber: a narrow ‘throat’ is very visible through the barrel.

The clip, piston knob and other trim are in brushed titanium. The clip is much more elastic than on the old Kingsize, and extremely intricately shaped to follow the form of the cap. You can see that no expense was spared on this design.

And ah yes, the cap. It’s made from PEEK, one of the wonder-materials like Ultem that have taken the pen world by storm (see Schon, Kasama, etc). Peek is a graphite colour, noticeably grey, with a satin sheen in this finish. It’s very strong, and I expect a perfect material for this style of closure, where tension is liable to cause fatigue.

The nib is engraved with the Conid imprint, paired with an ebonite feed, and mounted in a unit equipped with o-rings to seal out ink. I immediately swapped it out for a Sailor King of Pen nib.

As you’d expect from a Conid, especially at this price, the fit and finish is excellent, and the Maximalistica feels built like a tank. All the details are well thought of: the Bulkfiller is noticeably lubricated, the ALL-CAPS engraving is neat and precise, the interlocked Conid symbol on the cap finial is perfectly aligned with the clip.

What’s it like to use?

In the hand, the Maximalistica is a chunky pen, but not as long as you might think (depending on how much you press the cap on). It’s barely longer than the Kyuseido Kakari, despite featuring a larger nib.

Uncapping and capping is a strange experience. As with the Minimalistica, a twist helps to break friction, and despite a tiny vent hole in the cap, there’s a noticeable ‘pop’ and release of tension. I haven’t noticed any ink pulled out, though.

Capping is just a case of applying pressure until you feel enough resistance: from the point that the o-ring first engages until the cap bottoms out is an epic 6-7mm of travel, but you only need about 2mm to feel secure. It’s definitely a better experience than the original Minimalistica.

For what it’s worth, Conid provides a ton of spare o-rings in the box, but I don’t expect to need them in a good long while.

With the pen uncapped, you can really enjoy the purity of the design. The barrel is smooth and flowing, and exceedingly comfortable. Although the piston knob makes it feel a little back-heavy, the whole pen is so compact that it never feels like an issue. If you want to, you can also post the cap.

The Conid-branded Bock 380 nib was pretty dry for me out of the box, and a little twisted off its feed by over-enthusiastic installation. But once I swapped in the KoP nib, this is a fantastic writer, with the Bulkfiller providing endless ink, and the squat seamless body making for an agile hold.

Keep clean and carry on

The PEEK cap also tackles one of the minor irritations I had with my old Kingsize: I now can’t see any ink droplets inside the cap. No more mess. Unfortunately, the clear acrylic in my experience tends to look filthy inside and out, gathering condensation inside the barrel and skin oils outside.

Over time, I have really grown to appreciate my Kakaris and how easy they are to clean. The Bulkfiller-inspired mechanism makes flushing easy, then I can screw off the section for a true deep clean.

Original Conids are not quite so good on the maintenance front. The Kingsize section is not removable, and obviously this Maximalistica has no section. Unless you invest in the Conid Tool to remove the Bulkfiller from the rear of the barrel, you will end up with droplets in the barrel that you can’t otherwise get to: the ‘throat’ between the twin ink chambers mean you can’t even reliably clean if you take the nib out. So, OCD folks, you have been warned. This is a demonstrator.

Yes, worth the wait

So. How does it feel to have a Conid back in my tray? Well, excellent, to be truthful. I was apprehensive about spending this much, especially after the Minimalistica, but this is a much matured design. It has perfect proportions, outstanding engineering, uncompromising materials, and the result is a comfortable and practical design that addresses all the niggles I had with both the Minimalistica and my old Kingsizes. I really, really like this pen. It’s also undoubtedly a Deliberate Object: the answer to the question what if we could make a pen that’s the absolute pinnacle of engineering?

What about the competition I mentioned earlier? The Kakari is quite possibly my favourite pen. It’s the only pen I’ve kept two of, and I’m sure I will wax lyrical about it in another post. But it is a #6 nib, and that is a limiting factor. It also lacks a clip.

The Gravitas Monster is incredible value for money, with a uniquely innovative filling mechanism, and an absurdly better price point than the Conid. Gravitas has absolutely delivered. However: unfortunately for me the section shape and texture just doesn’t work for me, particularly on the aluminium edition… so my Monster sits unused.

The funny thing is, this comparison is almost entirely theoretical. This first batch of the Maximalistica is (of course) sold out. Who knows when the next one will be? Conversely, you can buy a Monster right now. You probably should.

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PS: Apologies for the photos in this review. It is January, it is dark all the damned time, and here I am sat in a dark pub with a torch propped on the edge of a pint glass, looking like a lunatic with my Fuji X100VI and macro attachment taking photos of a pen with some unholy ISO / shutter speed combo. There is only so much I will do for a good photo in these conditions!