Sunday, 25 January 2009

Nostalgia Value

The Crazy House at night; your humble blogger aged sixteen, back when all the cool kids (us) used vintage sunglasses as makeshift colour filters - to not-so-good effect.

While I am trying clean out my wardrobe (albeit halfheartedly), I keep coming across these pieces of clothing – pieces I haven’t worn in years, that I looked awful in, that are pilling, acrylic, faded, or just not my style any more. I pull them out of the sorting pile, stare at them for a moment, and, with a pang, realise that I can’t quite part with them yet, and put them back in my wardrobe – right at the back, that is, where I don’t have to look at them. I never want to wear these pieces of clothing again. That’s not the point.

These are the pieces of clothing that have nostalgia value. I virtually inhabited some of these pieces during some of the most fantastic moments – and even years - of my life. But these years, these moments, still exist – in my head, in photographs, in journal entries. I remember being seventeen and driving around in a sleek black car at night in my hometown – even if I don’t hold on to the red track jacket I wore at the time. I still climbed through the half-constructed parts of the Crazy House in the middle of the night, even if I throw out the green knitted hoodie I was wearing when I did it.

What are any of us afraid of losing when we part with the last tangible remains of these kinds of moments?


Eline said...

Aah this is so true. Sometimes I feel like the only one feeling this so happy to know there's others out there! ^o^
My mum always throws everything away... I don't know how she does it.

Pony said...

I was talking to my friend today on our way home from the airport, and she's an emotional hoarder too - so you're definitely not alone. And you're in good company! :D