The End of the Collector Mindset

[tonyb]

That young man in the doughboy uniform is my grandfather’s uncle Charlie, to whom I alluded much earlier in this thread. The infant is my grandfather himself.
Both photos came my way via my mother, who said I am the only one she is confident wouldn’t just give them away or sell them to an antiques peddler.
I see these old oval sepia photos in antique shops all the time, priced at 30 or 40 bucks, sometimes not even that much. I’m left to wonder what the buyers do with them. Reuse the frames? Use them as decor in an eatery or a bar with an early 20th century “theme”?
I’ve let my cousin Bob, who is younger and in better health than me, know that I want him to assume custody should I croak before he does. And after Bob shuffles off? The photos may as well become decor in a theme restaurant, something along the lines of the Old Spaghetti Factory, which folks out West might be familiar with.

 

[Bugguy]

Many of the Bohemians, (as in Czech) had perfect front rooms too, in Berwyn and Cicero Illinois. They mostly lived in kitchens and ba

Hey! I grew up near 31st and Pulaski. All my Czech friends houses (and mine) were like that. Kids couldn't play in the living room. Couch and chairs had plastic slip covers and the tall lamp on the table in the middle of the picture window had plastic covering the shade.

Still not as bad as the lamps with the oil (looks like water) running down the wires to look like rain.

As for living in the basement, note that no-one ever killed themselves jumping from the window.

 

[belfastboy]

Hey! I grew up near 31st and Pulaski. All my Czech friends houses (and mine) were like that. Kids couldn't play in the living room. Couch and chairs had plastic slip covers and the tall lamp on the table in the middle of the picture window had plastic covering the shade.

Still not as bad as the lamps with the oil (looks like water) running down the wires to look like rain.

As for living in the basement, note that no-one ever killed themselves jumping from the window.

My mother did not want me sitting on the 'good' couch in the living room....she said I was too heavy and would permanently squish the foam cushions. She also continually admonished me for not picking up my feet high enough and my feet were going to wear out her new shag carpet prematurely. I could go on and on with the list of …"things not to do, or how not to do them"....but it wasn't interesting then and sure as hell not now. She grew up dirt poor before the depression and it got worse during so I always cut her slack as she had to claw her way up to afford the nice things she had.

 

[tonyb]

^^^^^
Owning furniture and such that rarely got used wasn’t exactly common among my people when I was a kid, but it wasn’t all that uncommon, either.

An old girlfriend, going back about 25 years ago, lived with another gal who kept the living room drapes closed, except on special occasions, so as to prevent fading of her upholstered furniture. Wound pretty tight, she was. Not a crumb on a counter. Floors you could eat off of. Et cetera. (Gotta admit that I was amused but not particularly surprised when it was disclosed to me that she was into some pretty kinky stuff, involving whips and dog collars and the like.)

 

[Old Mariner]

I tend to fall into the category of not wanting "the stuff", but for me, it's mainly due to a laundry list of pragmatic reasons.

I live alone, and so if I were to move, the less packing, and lifting, etc. the better.

I live in an apartment and so only have "x" amount of storage space. (I also do not like clutter.)

I like to have *less* stuff to clean and not more.

I have tended to move frequently - usually spending no more than 4 years, at most, in one place. Now my current apartment - I moved into in October 2014, and I am somewhat surprised I am still here (but for the time being, it is an excellent location for me).

If I have no interest in said items, I don't see the point in keeping them. I would rather donate them so someone else can enjoy them who wants them.

Finally...I just never was a "stuff" kind of person.

 

[tonyb]

No Marie Kondo, I.

I don’t ask my possessions to somehow “spark joy” to maintain their presence in this house, although I’d argue that much of my stuff is at least kinda joyful, in its way.

It’s a safe bet I will never again open most of the hundreds of books in this place. But the collection goes back more than half a century, and its presence on my shelves reminds me of where I’ve been and what I’ve thought and what once interested me and in some cases still does. When I’m dead and gone my memories will go with me, and the books will be another thing for my survivors to deal with. I hope they get at least a few bucks for them, or donate ’em to some worthy cause.

 

[tonyb]

I’ve long been a lover of tribal arts. Over the past decade or so I’ve amassed something of a collection of Oriental rugs, mostly of the simpler, more coarsely woven tribal variety (as contrasted with the “finer” city rugs).

I claim no expertise, but I’ve been at this long enough to be kinda conversant. (Even the experts sometimes don’t agree on a particular rug’s pedigree, considering the amount of cross-pollination of stylistic conventions and construction techniques from town to town and region to region and even country to country.)

I have about 30 of the things now, with a combined value of maybe a few thousand bucks. (Most such rugs can be had for much less scratch than is commonly believed.) Some are layered atop others. And yes, Marie, they do indeed spark joy. Every one of them. I may give some away to friends who offer favorable comments about them, but none are for sale.

 

[belfastboy]

I’ve long been a lover of tribal arts. Over the past decade or so I’ve amassed something of a collection of Oriental rugs, mostly of the simpler, more coarsely woven tribal variety (as contrasted with the “finer” city rugs).

I claim no expertise, but I’ve been at this long enough to be kinda conversant. (Even the experts sometimes don’t agree on a particular rug’s pedigree, considering the amount of cross-pollination of stylistic conventions and construction techniques from town to town and region to region and even country to country.)

I have about 30 of the things now, with a combined value of maybe a few thousand bucks. (Most such rugs can be had for much less scratch than is commonly believed.) Some are layered atop others. And yes, Marie, they do indeed spark joy. Every one of them. I may give some away to friends who offer favorable comments about them, but none are for sale.

We spent a winter in North Africa many years ago and have fond memories of the hours (and I mean hours) spent bargaining over Berber rugs.....it was exhausting but we did come home with a few that adorn my office floor.

 

[tonyb]

We spent a winter in North Africa many years ago and have fond memories of the hours (and I mean hours) spent bargaining over Berber rugs.....it was exhausting but we did come home with a few that adorn my office floor.

I’ve befriended a couple of rug peddlers. They’ve gotten money out of me on several occasions.

I’ve stepped into a few rug stores operated by people I don’t know, but thanks to those in the biz I *do* know, I know that the prices those shops put on their rugs are at least twice what a person should pay for comparable merchandise.

Assigning a price on items with little if any intrinsic value is inherently arbitrary. To repeat the well-worn observation, such a thing is worth what a person will pay for it.

When I consider the amount of effort that goes into an authentic hand-knotted Persian (or Afghani or Turkish or Caucasian or ...) rug, the prices we pay here in the West are real bargains.

 

[V.C. Brunswick]

Hey! I grew up near 31st and Pulaski. All my Czech friends houses (and mine) were like that. Kids couldn't play in the living room. Couch and chairs had plastic slip covers and the tall lamp on the table in the middle of the picture window had plastic covering the shade.

Still not as bad as the lamps with the oil (looks like water) running down the wires to look like rain.

As for living in the basement, note that no-one ever killed themselves jumping from the window.

The funny part is that even when there were visitors the front room tended to be used only to stash coats and purses while everybody gathered in the kitchen. At least that was my experience when we would visit my parents' friends.

 

[tonyb]

The funny part is that even when there were visitors the front room tended to be used only to stash coats and purses while everybody gathered in the kitchen. At least that was my experience when we would visit my parents' friends.

Do people still pile their overcoats on the master bedroom bed when they have social gatherings during the cold months?

Such was the practice among my people back in the day. The typical coat closet just couldn’t accommodate all those heavy garments.

But then, maybe those sorts of gatherings aren’t as common as they were back then. I was part of a large extended family then, with grandparents and numerous aunts and uncles and cousins all living in the same region.

 

[Bushman]

Do people still pile their overcoats on the master bedroom bed when they have social gatherings during the cold months?

Such was the practice among my people back in the day. The typical coat closet just couldn’t accommodate all those heavy garments.

But then, maybe those sorts of gatherings aren’t as common as they were back then. I was part of a large extended family then, with grandparents and numerous aunts and uncles and cousins all living in the same region.

I know we've always done it at my place. I don't have many social gatherings, but when I do, everybody knows where to put their coat.

 

[LizzieMaine]

You'd be surprised how many people even here in the Northeast don't bother to even wear coats anymore. They're used to going from heated house to heated garage to heated car and consider anything more than a North Face vest to be unnecessary. The average bed could hold a lot of those.

I make people keep their coats on when they come to my house. Fuel oil is expensive.