The little things that make me wonder…
I’ve often wondered what you can learn about someone from the things that they own and the way that they live.
I love looking through fridges, cupboards, bookshelves etc. I don’t know what I expect to find, or what I learn from it. I just find it fascinating.
As I look over at my shelves, I wonder what people would make of me. There are the books on art/design. There are the recipe/cookery books. There are the pyschological/real life books. There are the chick-lit “happily ever after” books, and there are the Harry Potter Books.
There are the DVDs that range from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, to Moulin Rouge with Ugly Betty and Harry Potter in between. There’s the alcohol, and the glasses. The pictures of friends. The empty frames where friends used to be.
The shelves are framed with pink fluffly lights. They’re organised, but not obsessively tidy.
I have the pictures of me and my family. I have the feathers from South Africa. The little things that make me smile in life.
When you enter my flat, there is no doubting I like shoes. They are everywhere. Something that used to drive my parents crazy. Why could I never just put them away in one place? Now I have them by the door, in front of the sofa, under the table, in the wardrobe, in front of the heater. Basically wherever I take them off, they stay. I like things tidy, but not obsessively so.
In my fridge there is beer, butter, cheese, spinach, soya milk, fromage frais, chorizo sausage, various condiments. Nothing too exciting, or too psychologically revealing. But, if I was looking in on someone else’s fridge, those contents would be fascinating to me. As would the fact I have tea, coffee, hot chocolate powder and green tea on my shelf.
I have a normal, non HD TV. Simply because I got given it by my parents, and I haven’t bought a new one. I have Freeview and a simple DVD player. The idea that this says something about me, is intriguing to me. I don’t know what it says, or why it has to say anything. But I’m pretty sure it does. In the same way that the fact I am a Mac and not a PC is bound to say something about me. The fact I have my trusty old iMac still packed up in it’s box, and my MacBook out and around the flat all the time. The fact I own an iPhone, and that it is in a pink case.
All this stuff seems so relatively normal and mundane, but it is what fascinates me. The “normality” of everyday life, of everyday people. The little things that make a big difference. Why would I have cheese and fromage frais, but then soya milk? Why would I have an old TV, because I don’t want to spend the money, but see no problem in buying my computer?
Everyday life fascinates me. What people eat. How they live. What they read. What they watch. I could people-watch for ages. Seeing how fast they walk, where they are going, who they talk to. It’s amazing. I’m sure that everyone likes to look at the bookshelves in someone’s house. It’s natural curiosity. But what does it make you think about that person? Can their books, DVDs, TV, what they eat/drink, change your opinion of someone? Or does it just subtlety mould the opinion you already have?
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