Notes on Objectophilia

Me With Hackett, Didi and Georgie in the Kensington library 2008
My wardrobe is full of clothes and shoes. This isn’t very surprising because wardrobes, closets and drawers are meant to contain these things. In other news I turn 22 today, and my mum in a spot of some particularly good mothering and head shrinking asked how I felt about it. I’m sure she did this because like an Ostrich puts it’s head in the ground at the first sign of uncertainty, I become increasingly introspective and self critical.

My wardrobe is full of clothes and shoes. There are the £60 Jack Will sweat pants that I don’t wear that often. I got these pants 4 years ago when I was 18 and convinced that they were the coolest thing since sliced bread. Every one in my year had a pair and being the new kid on the block I didn’t want to feel left out. So I devoted a large proportion of my allowance towards their purchase. I used to wear the sweat pants with a bright yellow t-shirt that had the logo "fabulous disaster" plastered across it. A shirt my little sister has since confiscated. To be honest the t-shirt was unbearably tight, however while I had it I couldn’t stop wearing it. I just couldn't help myself. My dad had bought it when I was 15 in Australia. But as the yellow T-shirt was being phased out of my daily attire it was replaced by another. My mum got me a Salvadore Dali T-shirt with the Galatea of the Sphere painting printed across it’s breast. It took me three years to realize that it was the picture of a woman and not frog spawn. Two months ago the T-shirt suffered an unfortunate accident. It got caught in a door handle and I tugged really hard to get it out. As a result of my tugging it tore. Rather than replace it I stitched it back together very unprofessionally. I still wear that t shirt today. How could I not? When the t shirt had seen me turn 18, 19 an 20. When the very same t shirt had assured me of my coolness time and time again.

When I was 19 on a routine trip to Bicester shopping village I picked up a scarf I immediately named Rob/Hackett/Ade. This scarf has it’s very own story. A few months before it’s purchase I had become borderline obsessed with gossip girl. One of the lead characters of gossip girl Chuck Bass had a scarf which he wore with every thing. So I set out to obtain my very own fashion statement. The scarf I picked out was on sale in the children’s section. It was red and blue and fluffy. It was £35 and I loved it from the second it’s scratchy surface came in contact with my bony neck. It was rather challenging to wear at first as my neck had never been clothed so finely before. Prior to meeting Hackett afore mentioned neck had only been in contact with cottons of varying finery, so it’s only natural that it was stunned at the novelty when swathed in wool.

The last article of clothing I’ll mention are my Timberland Deck shoes (currently bed ridden). My dad got me these shoes when I was 16. At the time I fancied myself a size 9, I really really wanted to be a size 9, so you can imagine my shock when the shopping attendant declared me a size 7. From that moment I hated the shoes for they had shattered my illusions of grandeur. However the Old man was determined to make us into fast friends for every time that we weren’t together he barked at me and made me put them on. It worked because before long I would go entire summers without taking them off. They were with me at Disney Land, we went on every ride together, they joined the CCF with me and we learned to Kayak, drive and sail together. For five years I did my best to hold the shoes together, but last year the soles became unusable. We will be together again, when I get them resoled.

The point of this is the older I get the more attached I get to these seemingly inanimate things. My friends are not particularly talkative nor are they charismatic but they’re consistent. They’re my entourage. They’ve got my back.

Happy Days,

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