Everything I own is my stuff.. right?Just stuff I own. It’s my stuff, not anyone else’s and if I choose to actually put tacky fridge magnets from the town of my parents last holiday destination on display, well, I can stick them wherever I want to! And although it’s gone way beyond a joke at this stage and I don’t even try and refuse them, they’re not like my favourite things in the world, ok? They just make up part of ‘my stuff’, stuff you’ll find in my apartment.
Like anyone else, I can confirm that I’ve lots of ‘stuff’ – you might want to refer to yours as crap. Ok, we all have loads of crap. The crap that sits in a drawer, hangs in a wardrobe, stands on a bookshelf or bathroom shelf. Chances are though, the real crap you have only ever sees the light of day when you’re convinced you’ve spare batteries somewhere, that you’re certain you have a picture of that ugly guy you once dated to compare him to your ex over a bitchy bottle of wine or when you’ve turned the whole place upside down looking for a particular lipstick you know you bought, never wore and now need. There’s also the crap you have kinda on display or at least in the top drawer in your bedroom/ bathroom, the type you know everyone else has but it’s also the type of stuff you shove further out of sight during the 5 secs you have to do a quick tidy up upon arriving home accompanied, if you get me.
It’s a little different from the ‘Me Casa, Su Casa’ situation, it’s more like a ‘My Crap, My Situation – so what? ‘ kind of thing. Put it another way, I’ve loads of books, very varied, from books on iconic magazine covers, to all of Candace Bushnells books, some Erica Jong, the complete stories of Winnie the Pooh, a few Douglas Coupland and an abundance of cat books. Many of the cat books are presents, I may add. I have hard back editions of ‘The Ultimate Cat’ and ‘Tales from the Animal Hospital’ from the BBC series years ago, for instance. Guys aren’t so taken with them, unsurprisingly and they leaf through ‘501 Must See Movies’ or my Brett Easton Ellis instead. Mind you, I’d rather the pisstake comments on my cat books rather than the time I was completely at a loss for words when a new neighbour invited me in for a welcome glass of wine a few years back – I’d never seen so much crap until that evening. Perhaps if I added that it resembled a sanctuary for chintzy china dragons and that floral plate things that were just stuck up against various walls and that this guy, yes guy had added a neon blue, neon blue, strip light around a window and odd looking Russian Doll type ornaments on every surface, you might understand why I was a little dumbfounded. Now, his place was really full of crap! I think what I was able to do was agree that he got great, ahem, bargains at the local auction house and thankfully got out of actually agreeing on how eh, lovely the place was now that he’d eh, done it up.
So.. I have stuff. Stuff.I prefer ‘stuff’. Over the last few years I’ve thrown out loads of crap. You know the kind of stuff. The kind of stuff you know that you don’t need. Really don’t need, even if you might think you might want it some.. eh.. time in the far off distant future. I’ve thrown out black bags full of clothes [relatively ok looking with jeans 100 years ago] and others just with either knickers [baggy gusset] or socks [mostly single]. I also love doing a big cull of various things that gather, like cards from certain people I now hate, buttons in dainty little envelopes from a swishy boutique when I don’t even know what item of clothing it belongs to. Take out menus! Crappy bits of paper with my horoscope from a day something great happened, cinema tickets, airline boarding cards – I collected loads of them over the last few years but they’re all gone now. Pens with glitter ink [cos they’re actually very hard to read, I’ve always resorted back to a Biro!], they’re all gone. Cat stickers. Beer mats. Hair bobbins even though I hate my hair tied up. Soaps from hotels. Receipts. Sewing kits that only now have turquoise and lemon thread cos I used the 2 inches of black thread it came with but thought I might need lemon thread one day.
So, being very truthful, there was very little I threw out when I was moving. All the crap had been thrown out during various booze fuelled culls after yet another guy had let me down. Honestly. I just have grown up stuff now. I’ve only had grown up stuff for ages now. The tiny Elmo was a present and well, he likes living on the bookshelf… and well, the red ladybird moneybox goes with my red living room… and ok, the purple handbags, especially the one with the flowers aren’t exactly the most practical for actually carrying things around in, given they’re rather small size.. but they go with the main theme of my bedroom… and em.. ah, you’ve got to give me the Elmo! Everyone needs an Elmo!