Nostalgia-istas & Newbies

In my continuing series chronicling the many reasons I regret making fun of my parents, 

comes this point at which I address an item near and dear to she who birthed me: 

the charm bracelet. 

Initially little more than a metal trinket housed in my mother's "special" jewelry case,

 it has become quite the little record of my existence. 

First breath of air, first communion, first train ride, first trip to Florida, first time killing someone with a pair of scissors..

pardon the arm hair. 

kidding. 

I have no idea what that one is about. 

Truth be told, though, there are quite a few of those silver little charm bracelet charms that derive the majority of their meaning from the fact that they are, in fact, a charm on my charm bracelet, and little else. 

But, for me, that's enough. In this instance, remembering futile attempts of cutting paper with my scissors charm will always be more enjoyable than glancing down at an empty Tiffany's pendant - no matter how expensive it may be. 

In fact, the attribution of value is a pretty interesting concept. I admit - I've been known to alter my opinion instantaneously based solely upon the realization that an item was, in fact, a product of my favorite designer and not one of, say, Forever 21. (take one of any number of "high street vs. designer?" quizzes to see where your allegiances lay). 

And I can guarantee you that, try as I might, anything worn by Keira Knightley, Alexa Chung, Emma Watson or Elizabeth Olson is immediately more appealing - despite my understanding that...it's not. 

I'm not the first person to recognize that celebrities make things cool, or that designer labels are more desirable than knock-offs, 

but what shocks me the most is accepting that it has so little to do with fact and so much to do with feeling.

I don't love my Burberry trench coat because it's "higher quality" or because it was an "investment piece" -

 I love it because it combines the perfect amount of nostalgia (my mom wore it throughout her youth) and prestige (coughBurberycough).

charm: mine, my own, my precious, necklace: Vintage via Cocoon Room,  vest, pants: Urban

For me, the ideal sartorial staple includes sentiment and status - even if I wish it didn't. 

Some day that may change, but while I'm young and naive, I'll embrace my reverence for the esteemed (and the coinciding havoc it wreaks on my wallet). 

It's interesting, though, that this differs between people. Some folks place all of their stock in nostalgia, whereas others rely solely on name brands and newness.

Wonder why. 

Cheers.



photos by sheeds

Love me on Bloglovin' and make my day/week/year? eh eh?