Marlo Stanfield: “That’s nice.”
Old Face Andre: “You like that? I had it for a long time now — got some sentimental value.”
Marlo: “What’s the real value? I ain’t much for sentiment.”
Recently, I was helping a client organize and downsize for a move, and we were discussing how many of the things that she paid good money for, and loved, will go to a new home for cheap. I often think about how when I pass on, I have so many things that I cherish, — things that have real value to me — will simply be junk to someone else.
Discussing this with a friend, we agreed that this doesn’t mean what we have is junk. It does mean it’s no light task finding the people who would value the things we have nearly as much as we value them.
Then there are things that I own that are absolutely useless in terms of monetary value, but rich in sentimental significance. I don’t hold onto everything, but the sentimental things are some of my favorite accumulations.
I’m not a sneakerhead enough to know if a sneaker is real or a knockoff, but the Yeezy Foam Runners (retail $309) someone left behind at the storage unit are fucking hideous!