Some people are natural born hoarders. I would be one of those people. I am not sentimental. Not obsessive. Not too too covetous. Just when I like something, I really like it. I get into it. And I somehow get a lot of it.
When I was a young girl living the Mary Tyler Moore life in my Philly apartment on Spruce Street I collected mugs. Cute mugs. Tacky mugs. Stolen mugs. Whatever. There was the bug mug from The Nature Company. The man with a mustache speedo mug that my high school boyfriend brought back from a family vacation for me. And the Denny’s mug, which is one of the few things I have stolen in my life.
And then I gave the mug collection away when I moved into the temple.
To fill the void left by the mugs, I began collecting saris. Cute saris that were bubblegum pink with a kelly green border and made me feel like a watermelon whenever I wore it. Tacky saris that were synthetic and highly meltable and always smelled like D.E. Jones (shout out if you remember shopping @ D.E. Jones in the Gateway Shopping Center in Sayreville!). I never stole a sari, which I consider a very good thing since it was my getting closer to God costume, but did land a few flanneled and worn ones from the give away bins.
Since I am kind of over saris, it’s time to move on to another empty collection to fill my shelf space and empty my pockets. I’ve done mugs. I’ve done Indian textiles. I’ve combined the two things–beverage vessel and Indian sub-continent, subtracted 13 and multiplied by 6 and ended up with my newest collection: teapots.
Only, I don’t have any yet.
But here’s some I’ve been looking at online.