Saying Goodbye to Objects
My Old Chuck-Taylor Hi’s (in white)
This past weekend, I was washing my white Chuck-Taylor Hi’s after being in the dirt. They had basically blackened, requiring me to vigorously wash them; something that I go through the trouble of every few months. I’ve had these shoes since high school and they’ve remained an enjoyable staple in my wardrobe since then so it was a huge bummer after cleaning them to see that these shoes are in fact on the last leg of their journey:
I had noticed that the padding on these shoes haven’t been as comfortable as of late, not to mention how it becomes harder and harder to clean them. Not that keeping them spotless was ever a huge worry. One of the best things about Converse is how they look better with age. The special thing about this pair is how they’ve worn in over the years, how the canvas and sole have absorbed time and the forces acting on it. However, it seems that on the verge of breaking, they have taken as much time and force as they can.
So How Do I Say Goodbye?
I found myself in an odd situation as I contemplated how I’d have to part with this pair of shoes that I had loved. They had certainly served me well and helped me look and feel my best. The white hi-tops on bottom never failed to pair with anything. Out of all my shoes, they probably matched with the most outfits that I wore on a daily casual basis. Dark jeans, light jeans, olive pants, chinos, man these things worked with everything so well. Not to mention all the things that “we” have been through from long hours in studio to partying on the weekend. Although, when I put these on in the morning, I’m not thinking about all the times I’ve previously put them on. I just put them on and don’t think about it.
These thoughts got me thinking about how and where we ascribe value to the objects in our lives. For the most part, the value in these shoes was enjoying them for what they were and nothing more. I found tremendous value in putting them on and not having to question or ponder what was on my feet for the rest of the day. I didn’t have to think about them much, I could just experience them for what they were. For me, this idea certainly dictates what a well designed object is; a subtractive process that removes obstacles that allow us to purely experience the world around us.
How Often do we Reflect on Objects in our Lives?
Only now when I fleetingly considered throwing them out (which I will definitely not do) did I stop and think about the stories that I associate with these shoes. It is rare to stop and consider what role an object has played in our lives. For some reason it feels odd and unfamiliar. Yet, how is this possible? Objects enter and exit our lives every day. From a piece of clothing that you were excited to buy that stops fitting you to the container that you got for your on the go meal that you threw away. However, the entrance into our lives certainly bears more weight. We are often wrapped up in the hype to buy and receive things. With all the advertising and social media surrounding us, how can we not?
It was only in setting up this photo that I stopped to think about the items I had quickly accumulated freshman year of college. It was only through this process of manually and arduously removing everything from their place and arranging them that I was forced to ponder their existence. Otherwise, these things would continue living in drawers, closets, and their places where they call little attention to themselves. Now passivity is certainly not a bad quality of an object; it shows how we become comfortable with object fitting in our lives. My point is that we do not have the chance to contemplate these object, what makes them meaningful and why we cherish them.
What if we Celebrated the Exit as much as the Entrance?
I’m not sure exactly how the world would work if everything revolved around an object exiting our lives rather than entering it. I’m strangely grateful that I came to the realization that these dear shoes will soon bust and get shelved. Although I hate to lose these objects as an everyday item in my life, I wouldn’t have stopped to think and reflect about them. This was certainly a rare scenario for me but what if items became more celebrated as they aged and gave us the chance to reflect on them?
What Else Have I Said Bye to?
I can’t think of many noteworthy “goodbyes” with objects in my life. There certainly were times where I lost things, such as a scarf or a pair of gloves. Those moments aren’t substantial; more of an “oh shit how could I have lost this” rather than a contemplative exercise on what this thing meant and what it’s value was.
But what are other things that I cherish? What would I hate to be separated with? What if I had to say goodbye to things that I had? Those questions help reveal some of the things that, upon further thought, have granted me much enjoyment. For example, the things pictured below that I brought to my 3 month trip to Nepal. I certainly don’t use these items as much now. They mostly stay stored and unused. However, I would probably never want to part with them. Value is more than just utility, and sometimes its more than just the stories and history behind something.
Sometimes I tell myself that I don’t need much “stuff” to live. I don’t need much to get by. Sometimes I wear it with a badge of pride. “Look how little I’ll need for this trip” “Look how small I got my bag this time!” It often stresses me out bringing too many things around with me. I’m curious what I’m looking for when I try to optimize the things that I pack in my bag. Am I just trying to optimize and find the most useful things? Why does it stress me out? I lived for 3 months off the things that I fit in the blue backpack above (the clothes I wore aren’t pictured in the photo). Yet when I go back and forth between home and school in Pittsburgh I’m lugging 2 suitcases and still can’t seem to fit everything.
There’s safety in having everything you’ll “need” or what you think you’ll need. I really don’t think it’s a functional need that drives our desire for safety in our hoarded items. Is it the functional questions that make you scratch your head as you decide what to pack and what not to pack or is it the emotional questions that really get me hung up?
Appreciating Things For What They Are
When I think about the things that I’ve had the longest, its almost surprising. Nothing flashy, nothing hidden, and somehow nothing very complicated. If I lost these things, I would not only think “Oh shit how can I function without this,” but also “Oh shit, I enjoyed that object so much for what it was.” I think it’s interesting that these objects are mostly materially driven. Materiality is what has allowed them to persist in my life and allowed me to grow a connection with them. My Contigo water bottle (which is actually inches from my hand as I type this) has been my reliable water bottle since trying to stay hydrated before my high school running workouts. Its’ terrific insulation pays off at night or in the morning when I’m sleepy and groggy but can get an ice cold sip.
My Tiger Tail and Foam Roller are true MVPs that also have high school roots in running. Most other hand held rollers are too flexible, making it hard to get deep in your muscles. The unyielding pliability gives me comfort that I can manage my calve stiffness and shin splints. The foam roller is versatile; good for loosening up my back, my quads, and my IT bands. It has a good stiffness and bonus points for its hollow body fitting extra things when packing. Lastly, my Leather Wallet. I don’t really know what to say about this because it has been so much a part of my routine that I’m struggling to think about what it does. Since before high school, I would put this in my pocket every day. Now 8 years later, I’m still doing the exact same thing. Nothing has changed. The other mindless things that I constantly have a relationship haven’t been with me as long (phone, shoes, black t-shirt, backpack are all newer than this wallet). This wallet has easily outlived everything else in my life thus far. Nothing comes close
Do Objects Enter our Lives or Do We Enter Their Lives?
The duration with which my wallet has been with me got me thinking about this question. In the grand scheme of things, I have basically completely changed since I first got this wallet prior to middle school. But it has stayed the same, if not have aged a little to be nicer. In a human centered world, it seems odd to reverse it and revolve humans around quality objects. But maybe this is our response to a high consumption world; one that stresses convenience and disposability. Could we retort with quality and care?
The Garden of Objects
In my favorite design class, Experimental Form, our professor Mark Baskinger shared with us a short paper by Ezio Manzini, “The Garden of Objects — Designing for a world to take care of.” In it, Manzini describes the challenges of quality and consumption. Here is one of my favorite passages:
Today we live in a world of objects of rapid consumption. Objects which perform their service requiring minimum effort and minimum attention, but also, as I already mentioned, objects which pass us by without leaving any lasting impression in our memory. A disposable world made to require no effort, but which, at the same time, produces no quality.
Imagine now a garden with some flowers and some fruit trees. Think of the attention, time and energy that are required and think of its products. those flowers and those fruits, and the person who made them grow, do not have a measurable value in banally economic terms. Certainly the garden must produce flowers and fruits, but the person dedicated to this, does it for a more general reason: he/she does it because he/she loves plants. Try now to imagine an analogous relationship with objects. Think of some objects that are as beautiful and useful as a tree in a garden: objects that would last and would have a life of their own. Objects that, as a tree, would be loved for how they are and what they do. Objects that would render a service and would require tending.
Have you ever seen a dirty fire engine or are they always spotless? Our professor also told us that the fire engine has the best life out of all common vehicles. It gets driven around super fast every so often and the rest of the time, it is meticulously tuned and cleaned by the fire fighters. It’s not just about spending huge amounts of time keeping the fire engine clean, its about nurturing the fire fighter’s essential relationship to a life saving machine. Think about all the time it takes to clean every inch of this huge vehicle and if we took the same amount of care for the other objects in our lives.
