This is a sort of follow up to the last post; how whether an object carries with it my history or someone else’s it still has an inherent sense of story and magic, so to speak. I think this is true, but should clarify that (and I guess it really goes without saying, but...) personal history and meaning always trump the rest. Below are two treasured objects that are beyond beautiful and also very near and dear to my heart.
This book was a wedding gift from my husband: a volume that chronicles our email correspondence that led up to our first date. He designed and illustrated it and then had it letterpressed and bound. It is far and away the most priceless thing I own. I imagine our great grandchildren reading it (and blushing over certain parts) long after we’re gone.
The coffee cup was (ahem) spirited away from the Café de la Paix in Paris by my best friend. Every time I look at this little piece of truly classic and timeless design I smile—thinking of Jordan slyly slipping it in to her bag and cradling it all the way across the Atlantic just to bring me a souvenir from her Parisian travels.