What We Carry · 9:30pm Oct 24th, 2015
Sentimental value is a funny thing. To an outside viewer, certain levels of attachment to inanimate objects seem childish or inane. Assigning value to a piece of cloth, leather, or plastic seems completely idiotic from a purely logical standpoint. When something wears down, you throw it away and replace it if you can't fix it. That's just the way things are meant to be. Why hold onto something that anyone else would see as useless?
But some things really are too important to be replaced. That old toy, ratty old jacket, or random utensil passed down from generation to generation hold more than just what the offer at face value. No one can put a price on your emotional connection to something. When these things stay with us for long enough, they become a repository for memories and emotions of what might be better times. Looking at that old hot wheels car with the busted wheel might bring back the happiness of being a carefree kid, when being an adult becomes too much to bear, or Sunset's old leather jacket, a symbol of the growing relationship with her new friends. Replacing things like this is a seemingly impossible task, and I feel like we all know why. We all have that one thing; that one object that we couldn't go without and would break our hearts if we actually lost it. That one thing that everyone else sees and thinks that it holds no value and would be better off replaced.
For Sunset, I thought that one thing was her jacket. Despite the implication of being a pony and wearing another animals dead skin, and the fact that she throws it around every chance she gets, I thought it was sweet that she kept it through Rainbow Rocks, despite all the horrible things she'd done in it. After the events of the first movie, I'm sure Sunset went through a lot with her new friends as she learned what it was like to actually have someone care for you, and care about them as well, and that jacket stayed with her the entire time. I can only imagine the memories it might carry with it, and how much it truly means to her.
My one thing was rather embarrassing, but I'll tell you about it anyway. It was a Slipknot wallet I'd bought from Spencers almost eight years ago now. Back in the day I was about as edgy as they came: nu metal trash on my ipod nano, band shirts and studded belts filled my closet, and I felt the staggering, nonexistent oppression of my middle-class upbringing. I'd long since abandoned these habits, but there was one relic of that time that never actually left me: that wallet.
Recently I fell into a bit of a trap of self-consciousness regarding that old thing. I had gotten it out to buy something in the company of one of my newer friends, who really hadn't ever seen it before. He didn't actually say anything to me, but out of the corner of my eye I could see the look on his face. That raised eyebrow in a mixture of confusion and amusement when he saw that red S and little studs with their logo on it. Never before this moment had I actually put much thought into it, but when I got home I actually got it out and looked it over.
This wallet was in terrible condition. The cheap pleather lining on the inside had long since worn away, revealing the black fabric underneath, the outside was scratched and stained, the red and black coloration slowly fading away with time, and the entire thing looked like it didn't have too many more years left to its life.
So I did what any other rational human being would do: I bought a plain, brown leather wallet to replace it. It wasn't anything fancy, but it didn't represent a more juvenile time in my life, so I thought it was appropriate. That is until I actually started looking through my old wallet to move the cards, money, licenses, etc. over.
When I opened up that wallet, I didn't just find torn pleather and old gift cards, I found the last eight years of my life etched into it. In the corner was a little paper swan on old girlfriend had made for me out of a quiznos napkin, in one of the pockets was an old business card from my favorite football coach from my time in high school, underneath my current license, there were two old ones with varying levels of hilarity in the hairstyle I'd chosen for that year, old giftcards that I'd long since spent were still in there, and I could remember exactly who gave them to me and what I'd done with them, one of the studs on the outside was loose, and I could remember the day me and my friends went on the adventure that caused that, and an old guitar pick from one of the first concerts I'd gone to was still lodged in another one of the pockets. This is really only naming a few of them.
As I took it all out and laid it down in front of me, all ready and waiting to move to their new home, I found that I couldn't actually do it. This other wallet was foreign, and really had no place holding all of these memories. It didn't feel right just replacing this wallet like it was some worn out tire that had just run its course and needed to be thrown away.
To this day I still use that old wallet everyday, and probably will until the day it can't actually hold anything any longer, or just turns to dust entirely. Some things really are too important to be replaced, regardless of what other people might think.
Damn, didn't think I'd have feels for someone else's wallet. But when you laid your life out on a table, and just give it a good hard look, it's nuts.
Though for some reason I imagined that like a parent, you might need to make the move, and that you are just holding your stuff in an old wallet for comfort, when your stuff really would need to be moved to a newer wallet that won't die on them. Though these aren't my memories, and I don't think your wallet is literally coming apart and going to spontaneously explode so I can't say how "necessary" it is to move things from one to another, I am looking too much into your wallet-things like they are a person in and of themselves and my brain is looking deeper into what is probably not even there.
In any case, thanks for sharing. This was a good blog to read, and totally not necessary but really did add some depth to your story as well. Wish I had something to share, though I can't think of anything.
No wonder you're such a excellent writer. You get to have these interesting, profound, relatable experiences and realizations with things as simple as a wallet because of your rich, colorful past. It's so much harder to write good material that touches others when your life has been dull and unstimulating, even at its highest points.
Thanks for sharing :)
I know how this short of thing feels, though not for a specific object. I love hoodies. I feel naked if I am out in public without one on. My attachment runs so deep that on Christmas I ignored my new and expensive video games to squeal like a little girl over this cheap ten dollar hoodie my parents got from Wal-Mart as an afterthought. I walked the 110 degree Arizona heat in hoodies (which is actually a really dumb thing to do and I really wouldn't recommend doing it), so, yeah, I love hoodies.
Ouch... That was so beautiful it hurt.
I have a one thing... and it's not all that different than yours. It's a bracelet. I got it when I was eight (I'm 21 now). There's nothing to fantastic about it; it's just a twelve dollar leather bracelet with a single snap closure. I don't wear it anymore, because it leaves a black ring around my wrist, but I'll never get rid of it. That bracelet's seen the start and end of several relationships, a bunch of heartbreaks, and countless other things. There's a little bloodstain on it near the snap socket where an old girlfriend nabbed it and when I was trying to get it back, my class ring gouged out her wrist. I felt horrible about that. It's got my initials on the inside of it where a friend of mine got the same kind of bracelet and we marked which one was ours. There's scratches going across the middle where I got into a fight with my then best friend over a girl and he threw me against a brick wall. We don't talk anymore...
I know what it's like to have such a sentimental object that you cherish. It feels kind of silly to admit to someone else, but it's like having a home movie tape of your life that you can go back and watch whenever you want.
I wanna hug something now.
Exactly as you described. Sentiment is a surprisingly powerful emotion, and you nailed the idea perfectly.
I will openly admit that I tend to hold on to too many things for this very reason. One of my most prized old possessions, however, is a simple dull green shoulder bag. I've had it for as long as I can remember, since I first met the person who is still my best friend 10 years later. Over the years it has carried toys and video games, packed supplies for trips, school supplies and homework... So many holes and tears had to be patched, yet I kept using it every day.
Finally, just a few weeks ago, the strap tore while I was walking home from college. I knew it was going to happen, but it still hurt when it did. Strap and lining torn, holes through each corner, and worn so thin at points it's see-through, that bag finally reached its last leg. I am currently trying to fix it again, but even if it proves to be an impossible task, I refuse to throw it out.
As you described, that bag is a part of me. It has born witness to the moments that have defined me as a person, and even helped shape me itself. That bag, to me, is a symbol of friendship, growth, and readiness, and I wouldn't trade it for the world.
3494233
As a fellow Arizonian, I used do the same thing for the same reason, except with a sweater. I would wear the same purple (and later gray) sweater all year around, even in the middle of summer. It got to the point where I was known for wearing it, and was identified by that. Strangely, after 11 years of this behavior, I suddenly stopped wearing it at all this year, and have yet to put it on once. I don't know what brought about such a sudden change in a behavior that has been rooted in me since childhood (though I have some ideas), but I have not forgotten the comfort and feelings of safety it brought me in the past.
3494684
Well, considering I lived in Arizona for only a year before moving, I doubt I could call myself an Arizonian. I'm just glad that I also wore grey and that the hoodie reflected more heat than it absorbed. If I wore the black one I have now, I'd probably have dropped dead from heat exhaustion!
3494732
Ah, my mistake. I've lived in Arizona all my life, so I suppose I'm used to the heat. But yes, that is a most fortunate color choice!
I still have my Legend of Zelda: OoT wallet when the game came out for the N64. I don't use the chain that comes with it, but it's still in good condition, with the exception that the logo imprint has almost gone flat, but can still be noticed.
I thought Sunset came with it literally attached to her
She did in the comic.
I think almost everypony seems to come with clothes when they go through the portal. 'cept Spike.
Interesting subject.
When it comes to physical stuff, I'm mostly for what's practical, especially in electronics, which is where I mainly dabble. I suppose the only timeless things to me right now are Metallica, Led Zeppelin, Arnold Schwarzenegger and maybe Rambo & Rush.
I also thought it was very sweet for Sunset to keep her jacket into the second movie (and a good move by the writers to keep her outfit to show she hadn't forgiven herself to move on).
Nostalgia is so much more than rationality when it comes to things you can't throw away. I liked the story and while I thought it stood well on its own, you laying out your thoughts on the matter is both endearing and unexpected, it helps me appreciate your rendition of this idea more thoroughly. And it's absolutely beautiful
Trooth.