Fashion Stories & Dirty Laundry

Things are not stuff. We hear the constant platitudes of things: “They are just things, we can buy new ones after a fire. Don’t get attached to things. Or I don’t need a ring, that’s just an object, we love each other without things.” It goes on and on. But things do matter. And the more our lives tally-ho onward, the more you cherish the remaining ‘things’ from a previous generation. Now let’s be clear, if old photographs are platinum, things are a special gold.

Many of the ‘things’ that I cherish represent people, history, memories, they represent a moment in time captured like a photograph. Or at least to me. They aren’t just old objects or meaningless things.

In the featured photo, there are two spoons. They reside next to the Smith crest mug that I remember my grandparents drinking their 5:00 am coffee and their dogs licking the rest. I see these spoons daily as I make a coffee from the Keurig that probably needs to retire. These ‘silver things’ often need a polishing but I use them, and I use because they remind of so much.

I specifically remember several of these always on the kitchen table ready to be used for sugar, or adding cream. There they sat, awaiting a ritual. I remember them on a table in Long Island and then in Virginia Beach where my grandparents ultimately retired in Birdneck Point. These spoons could be over a 100 years old today.

It’s hauntingly beautiful, that after 40+ years, I can still see them in my mind, and smell my grandmother’s kitchen, all from Downtown LA which is a stark contrast to where I was raised.

From the spoons, I hear the dogs barking, see her wooden cane and her gorgeous to the end long auburn hair always in a large bun. I can see her crisp white shirt and khakis with always a fresh flower on a lapel. She loved a good camellia. She was class personified. And I see it all as I stir my half and half into my morning ritual.

These mere things fill the dark chasm between life and death a bit fuller and softer. When our memories fade and we no longer can ‘hear their voice’ in our head, we can touch their things. And it transports us back decades to perhaps a sweeter time.

Now let’s agree: we don’t need or want all ‘things’. I certainly will not want my mom’s old Tupperware nor will my son want some of my knick knacks. I think we all know what ‘things’ in reference. And I hope my son will enjoy his cherished things to hold on to, cherish, protect, repair, and ultimately pass on. All families are history and they are important.

In thinking about things, I recollected elementary school. Remember learning basic grammar and sentence structure? A noun was almost always a ‘person, place, or thing’. In simple proper form.

I got to thinking that in the end, the ‘thing’ is all of them. The things are the person, are the place, are the memories, it encompasses it all. Things are so much more than just a ‘thing’.

After using the spoon, I washed it and got out my silver polish. They needed it. My mom always notices who’s polished their silver – ask my sister. My son’s children need to use them one day.

-C. Nor