Things carry the memories. I mean, I think we’ve always known this to some extent: look at haunted object movies and stories.

We imbue items with the thoughts and feelings. I know this may feel whoo-whoo but I do think there is some sort of energy-matter transference to it, and not just nostalgia. I recently bought this used dress from a woman who loved it – she said it was her favorite – and she unfortunately had to let it go as she’d had a baby and recognized that her body had changed. She had cared for it, and worn it with a lot of joy. When the dress arrived, it had minor signs of wear, but it felt so happy. Maybe it is me projecting things onto it that do not exist. Maybe it’s me fantasizing about how this is a cherished item. But I choose to believe that those happy times are woven into the fabric.