I look around my college residence full of art, clothes, and trinkets. Except this isn’t your standard college crib. I’m lucky to live in a cute cottage with my best friends which not only houses us, but offers a fun and inviting space. Upon entry, you’ll be greeted by signs with antique slogans like “welcome friends” and “slow is beautiful.” Sun beams through windows and shines upon arched entryways each morning, creating a warm, fuzzy feeling like you’re visiting your grandmother’s house. But out of all the knick knacks placed in every nook and cranny of the cottage, I wonder: which items mean the most to me? Each item has a backstory whether it was a hand selected gift from a friend, a one of a kind thrift find, or an item that’s been in my family for decades. However, the items that mean the most to me are quite mundane, their significance not always clear upon first glance — unlike my collection of anthropomorphic ceramics tucked away on window sills and shelves.
My Sambas
I’ve raced across turf fields and won countless tackles in the same pair of soccer cleats — Copa Mundials. They’ve roughed it out on the field with me, been busted at the sole, and come back to life (with the help of some Shoe Goo) in a cyclical pattern that always results in my dad finding a new pair for me on Ebay. He was the first to insist that I play in these shoes when all of the other girls had their colorfully printed Nikes. The Mundials are a staple in the game, recognized with admiration by all of my previous soccer coaches. They are the spiked cousins of the now trendy indoor soccer shoes, Adidas Sambas, which have been around since their debut at the 1950 World Cup in Brazil. Sambas are rooted in history, and have withstood the test of time. The classic ivory stripes, thick ripped tongue, and gum sole make up the reliable pair of shoes which have become my go-to slip ons. If you know me, you know I am chronically late and need a pair of kicks to reside by my door, ready to slide right on and equip me for any destination. These are my Sambas, and I can’t help but think back to my days on the field with my Copas whenever I sport this iconic sneaker. The recent resurgence of Sambas into youthful fashion trends (as of 2022-2023) is informative of their versatility and inability to cast out of relevance. To any passionate soccer player or enthusiast, Sambas have always been relevant.
My Longaberger Recipe Box
Open the lid of my hand woven basket from the heartlands of the midwest to find a collection of recipes handwritten by my grandmother, Joan Dell. My grandma Dell was originally from Huntington, Pennsylvania where she grew up going to Top’s diner and twirling a baton at her high school football games. She was the sweetest, most selfless lady to grace the world with her incredible presence. She would pride herself on making every meal entirely from scratch — a tradition I try to carry on when I’m not grasping for any sliver of free time as a student. If I’m bugging for the coziest bowl of comfort food (like a good old bowl of chicken corn soup), I know where to look. My recipe box is all the more special since my grandmother was a longtime collector of the Longaberger baskets which she felt compelled to give me a small share of. I have little trinket baskets to hold my jewelry, popcorn baskets to cling onto as I watch my favorite films, and even an Easter edition picnic basket to pack lunch for the park.
My journal
It’s hard for me to get much of anything done with a head full of problems. I enter a competition with my thoughts which race at a pace of around 100 miles per hour, or 100 beats per second according to my heart. To slow down, I write. I spill it all out onto pages bound within a Moleskine journal—these pages spell out the eccentric secrets of my life. Only my eyes may gaze over the sprawling purple ink. I have stacks of journals teeming with my thoughts. When I sit down to write, sinking into my pillows, I enter an oasis where no one can alter my mood. I don’t have to worry about the critiques or worries of others when I write in my journal. The sweet scent of poison plum incense strikes my nostrils and reminds me so. I retreat to this space when I need to. My journal serves as a physical reminder of the steps I’ve taken to rebuild and replenish as needed over the years. Blank pages do not prod, they invite. With every turn of a page, there is a new insight waiting to be discovered.
My Carpenter's Record
My aunt gifted me her vinyl of the Carpenter’s singles from 1969-1973 when I first got my Audio Technica record player. Karen’s magnetic vocals and legendary drum solos instantly pulled me in. One fateful evening, spinning records up in my room, the burgundy cover tucked in my stack of many sleeves peeked into view. My musical world was totally transformed when I decided to take a trip back to a golden era of music with this melodic and sentimental piece of history. After one listen of the incredibly talented sibling instrumentalist duo during the fall 2022 semester, I was humming along to the chipper melodies at all times. I now hum and sing along to their entire discography of melodramatic tunes that simultaneously warm my heart and make me want to cry. Their single, "Goodbye To Love," is one of my favorite songs to sing in any setting, whether that be on a late night car ride, early morning shower, or Wednesday night Karaoke at Dürty Nelly’s. Whenever Karen’s voice springs onto the radio, my love for her sweet 70's charm reanimates all over again. I share my love for The Carpenter’s with family members and friends who appreciate the impact they’ve had on the music industry and our hearts.
My bead collection
No container of beads in my collection is the same. I’m constantly sourcing from Etsy shops (all of the best beads are abroad), local craft shops, second hand stores, and sometimes, I stumble upon nice shiny things on the ground. It’s always possible that I will find a new phenomenal charm to complete my vision for a project when I’m not even searching. Or maybe I am looking through the several pages of a website that never seem to end, when suddenly, in the midst of my haze right before I quit hitting arrows to propel my search forward, I come across something good. In the moment, this creates a visceral shock, because no one informed me that they make charms of miniature cows enclosed in a perfect plastic candy wrapper (yes, intentionally). Nonetheless, my jewelry brand reflects the sporadic nature of my beading hobby — quirks.of.ella. My beading hobby began during the pandemic when a friend picked up a craft kit (specifically for beading) from Michaels that everyone bought to occupy their time. Ever since I made my first single strand necklace, I was in love with the process of making jewelry. I gradually learned how all the curves and grooves of the beads fit together on the perfect strand of Beadalon wire. This is an art I perfect more with each new finding that joins my collection.
