If you know me, you know my room is well-kept: a self-declared essential display and documentation of the museum that is my life. I cherish small memories so deeply and the accumulation of meaningful souvenirs helps give my brain a foothold, to keep these memories alive and accessible. I am easily able to recount the stories of each of my wonderfully bizarre trinkets; making them so much more valuable to me than the encompassment of their material wealth.
My wardrobe exists in the same, revered state and I often pull out my favorite pieces to reminisce on the times spent wearing them. I think this process is so special and helps me remember the beauty of my life on my more boring days. I thought this could be a cool project to share some of the stories of my favorite pieces with you all– an unprecedented exploration into these artifacts of my life.
Jokes aside, I also want to encourage each one of you to think of your lives in the same way. Your life is a history account– the things you have seen, done, failed at, and achieved. It is important to romanticize your own life, holding each moment as precious, knowing YOU will be the only person EVER to see the world through your eyes. I often like to imagine historians far into the future finding my remains– magazine cutouts, overgrown accumulation of pens, 4 different leave-in-conditioners, tarnished earrings– imagining what they would conclude and assume about life back in 2020. It is fascinating and hilarious to view my life under this lens– speculating at the uses of all my various lotions & potions. Possibly all the things that I view as routine items will be obsolete and unrecognizable in just a few hundred years. Memorabilia could warp beyond recognition and the references we share in our collective conscious today will shift away from familiar. History is happening now, all around you and your life is an equal part of it. These times are precious and it is important to cherish each other, our memories and our culture before it ceases to exist.
For the first installation of my bedroom museum tour I present my collection of sunglasses. For many years now I have been on a self-imposed quest to find my goldilocks of sunglasses– the ones that fit just right. These pairs are some of my most cherished and the stories around their purchasing are even more dear to me.
I got this pair in Toronto, Canada last August while during an extremely (& unexpectedly) humid week of city exploration. My mom got them for me at an Urban Outfitters outside of the Toronto Eaton Center mall. We had been walking for what felt like miles, the humidity having already soaked our clothes before we even started sweating (which we also did a lot of). After Toronto, I went camping in the Bay area with some of my friend’s family. This pair of sunglasses just reminds me of scorching hot summers and fun times in new places.
I got this pair in the same month of August as the green ones mentioned above. For my roommates birthday we went to the Melrose Trading Post, something her and I have dreamed about for years. Except we were broke and it was well over 100 degrees on the mostly-lacking-shade pavement. We still had a fabulous time shopping and exploring between our designated “cool down” periods. Due to my depleted economic status, I instructed myself to not buy too much or ideally: nothing at all. Of course, I was weakened immediately upon seeing all the vintage booths and the moment I tried on this pair I was sold. I tried other pairs in the hopes a cheaper one would yield sufficient results but none even came close so I ended up purchasing these retro beauties.
When I lived in Rome I had three things I was determined to purchase: jeans, sunglasses and a new ring. My ring dreams fell through with my early forced evacuation but I did manage to check sunglasses off my list before departing. After a Thursday of classes, my roommate and I decided to stay out in the city; exploring the bustling streets just a few blocks away from our school. We wandered into this brightly lit store that had a transparent-floored second floor. I tried on this sunglasses when we walked in and had forgotten they were on my face by the time we were ready to leave. I couldn’t part with them so I bought them and wore them home.
Every Sunday in Rome the streets outside my apartment were closed and chaotic– the littered asphalt having been transformed into a bustling marketplace. And when I say bustling I mean BUSTLING; we were squished like sardines between booths making it almost impossible to navigate and actually see the boundaries of the market. After two months there, we still had never found the end to the Porta Portese market. I purchased these sunglasses on one of our last trips there for 5 euro. I thought they were fun and I had been looking for large sunglasses to hide my then-constant under-eye circles.
This is my most recent pair of sunglasses, having picked them up last month at my all time favorite consignment shop, Buffalo Exchange. I was thrilled to learn via their website that they had reopened– months before I expected them to after closing all locations due to COVID-19. I found a couple fun new clothing pieces that I wasn’t able to try on due to new sanitization policies. I then saw these sunglasses right as I was next to check out and I threw them into my pile of purchases. I love the colored lenses and I often wear green so I thought lilac was the perfect new addition to my wardrobe.
Image sourced from: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/511510470181919179/ , Architect: Javier Senosiain, project CASA TIBURON